[What? Then why us?]

[You mean, why Kaisellin?]

[That's the same thing.]

"Am I entitled to hear such an important matter?"

"If I deem it so, then you are."

[She's so hard to read, seriously..]

[Who are we to fathom the Lord's intentions? Just leave it be.]

"A few years ago, a missing relic of the Seraphims had revealed an abundant trace of soren in the mortal lands. Hence, I and the Lord of Kaelum immediately sent scouts to retrieve it. The problem lies here. If we, being so far away and barely in contact, had been aware of it, what does this suggest?"

"It means the Draconem who had been venturing around the earthly kingdoms had been aware of it first."

"Precisely. Fortunately or unfortunately, we have yet to find it. It was only until a few months ago that its trace had manifested clearly, and the scouts were able to accurately locate the traces of soren. It turns out it's in Vendalius."

[Vendalius? It's that kingdom.]

[The one with knights, I've read about it.]

[Wait. Didn't Kaisellin ended up there? Is this a coincidence?]

[No matter, isn't this a chance? We can prod clues about Kaisellin's past in exchange for the order.]

"The northern kingdom? Then…" I pondered for a moment before continuing.

"Did something happen to the Abyssal scouts?"

"They were annihilated." Her low voice resounded like a soft growl.

"Both the Seraphs and Abyssal scouts. Their heads were returned to our borders as if taunting us to not meddle in their affairs. Those arrogant scaly snouts." She snorted. "They're already on guard against our forces. They're everywhere. I cannot send someone recklessly and incur unnecessary losses."

[…Does that make any sense? We're weaker than even half-blooded Sorenians right now. We can't even channel our own soren…]

[She's abusing us just because we can't die.]

'Shut up for a second, please.'

"I understand. You mean to imply that I am to head there and retrieve it before Olethros finds it."

She nodded. My senses subtly landed on her gilded crown of thorns and spikes.

"Is it perhaps a fragment? One of the Primordial's bestowed relics to the Sovereigns."

Her gaze turned cold.

"You're as sharp as usual. That relic—"

"—it must never end up in their hands."

[It's time, ask her now. Quickly.]

'How do I say it?'

[Just ask her normally, we might not have another chance like this again.]

'…'

[Just repeat after me, geez. 'I will heed your order…']

I bowed in response. "I will heed your order. In return, I dare to ask the Lord a question. May you hear this humble one's pleas?"

Jingle.

The gilded threads and ornaments coiled around her horns chimed as her head turned.

"Hm. You've suddenly become eloquent—no, nevermind. Speak."

[I am vaguely aware that Kaisellin has ties to Vendalius. I assumed you had prior knowledge to this.]

"I am vaguely aware that Kaisellin has ties to Vendalius. I assumed you had prior knowledge to this."

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[How…]

"How did Kaisellin end up crippled?"

She stared at me for quite a while with an emotionless expression on her face.

"Are you speaking on behalf of the psyche fragments?"

"I dare say I am."

"Then I'm not entitled to tell you such things."

"I believe I'm not following…"

"The fact that you still can't access his own Requiem proves it."

It's as if cold water had doused our minds, leaving the fragments unable to refute. Kaisellin's Requiem rejects our psyche every time we try to open it. Perhaps it does not recognize a broken psyche who barely agrees with each other's pieces. It had been 8 years, yet we still hadn't shown considerable improvement.

"I made a mistake. I won't happen again."

"Don't be too stiff. You'll probably find the answers you seek if you return to that place."

"When must I depart?"

"Make haste, little one. Leave as soon as today."

We didn't answer further, bowed for the last time, and turned around. Vontravis followed suit as if waiting.

"…Nightling." I stopped my tracks, but I didn't turn to face her again.

"Cover your face better when you see me next time. I'd prefer not to look at it for too long."

Exactly. You find it hideous the most, so why bother meeting me now?

[Maybe she did it to say that to our face.]

[You know, the impact isn't very strong if you say it over letters, right? Maybe she had to make sure it delivers.]

"I understand."

As soon as the abysmal doors closed with a loud thud, Vontravis whispered.

"First, we need to fetch the necessary supplies we need in Erebus. The only warp gate that allows us to directly reach the capital is located in the outskirts of the Continent's borders. Since the Lord advises that we rush, we have no choice but to directly leave the southern barrier and force our way to cross the Aranis Sea."

I halted my tracks again and faced him.

"Do you not have the slightest doubt about the Lord's intentions?"

I can feel his serious gaze bore onto me as I said it. He sighed intently as if finding my question bothersome.

"Aster, in all my years serving her as a Head of one of the Seven Sins, there are two things I've always kept in mind. One, never question the Lord's orders."

"Two, fulfill it with diligence no matter what."

My lips tightly pressed against each other, not sharing another word.

'This is insane.'

♦️♦️♦️

The waves surged in the turbulent waters. The wind howled, and the acrid scent of salty mist wafted in the air. Noran stood at the edge of the ship with a serious expression, his twenty subordinates tensely on guard behind him. On the left chest of their scarlet uniforms are embroidered symbols of black stars, representing Kuanos Genesis.

The Aranis Sea's waters were darker and deeper than the usual seas. It hides strange creatures lurking in its depths, making it notoriously known for its perilousness.

"Sergeant, the waves are strangely more turbulent than usual." Noran didn't answer, and instead continued observing the expanse of inky black mist extending beyond their sights and the horizon. The endless black mist made them look insignificant in comparison.

The mist swirled as if alive.

"The mana fluctuations are strangely wild and denser than the usual, Sir. Could this be a sign of Abyss's movement?"

"I doubt that. They're moving now of all times? When they've stayed quiet the whole while? That can't be." He shook his head and sighed, but he couldn't shake off the feeling of unease welled inside his heart.

'It's certainly strange.' But now that they'd done their jobs, this matter was something for the higher ups to handle.

"Rotate the ship. We'll return to the mainland."

"Understood."

Just then, two black figures shot out of the dense mist in terrifying speed, barely noticeable.

"Sergeant! Something came out!" Noran remained calm and immediately turned back to the direction where his subordinate was pointing. Several had already drawn their swords and prepared for what's to come. Although rare, there were occasional reports of corrupted beasts escaping from the Sovereign realms' borders.

To prevent them from even setting foot on the Continent's outskirts, elite naval sentries were sent to patrol around the areas to eliminate potential threats in advance. Now, they thought it was simply one of those days.

However, as he watched the two figures fly towards their direction with astonishing speed, he couldn't help but feel something was amiss.

"Load the canons." One of the sentries immediately responded to the order as they steered the ship sideways, the canons facing the approaching threats.

They didn't dare venture too close to the barrier, fearing that the mist would corrupt their psyches and turn them no better than the monsters they were ordered to look out for and eliminate. Hence, there was a considerable distance between their lone ship and Abyss's southern barrier. However, these supposed creatures were approaching them at astonishing speed that surprised their expectations.

As their figures continued to grow larger in Noran's field of vision, he was roughly able to discern their features. One in the form of a huge raven, the other humanoid.

'Wait, humanoid?' His grip loosened momentarily in shock. Has there ever been sightings of humanoid creatures escaping before? He has no memory of it.

"Fire!" The cannon balls hurled towards the figures with astonishing firepower. Already anticipating it, the figures rotated and flew from side to side, dodging all of them by a hair's breadth. Although none of canon's shot managed to reach them, Noran remained composed as they naturally went into formation.

The humanoid figure, noticeably donned in oversized black cloak with rough woven textures, landed gracefully on the edge of the wooden bowsprit, as if its weight was nonexistent. The raven followed suit, landing on the enigmatic humanoid's shoulder. Slowly, its right hand reached for a thin sword scabbard and slowly drew it. Its footsteps were faint and steady as it casually descended to the ship's main deck.

Their expression hardened. 'A sentient sword user? Is its intelligence unusually high? Or...'

Noran didn't have to give a signal. The strikers led by Noran rushed forward and swung their swords towards the figure. Simultaneously, as soon as the nested raven flew upwards again, the hooded figure's form blurred and shot past the attacking sentries, completely ignoring them.

Before the strikers at the front could turn around to reassess the situation, something round flew in the air and warm blood sprayed at their faces.

They were heads. In an instant, three were beheaded, and one had his throat sliced. Two were priests and two were tankers, who reflexively defended the center but was cut in the process. Noran slowly turned his head with widened eyes and newfound terror.

"What are you doing?! Protect the remaining healer!" He spatted in panic. Before the remaining tankers could form a new defensive line, the figure already lowered its body and pivoted its foot, drawing a crescent arc that smoothly sliced the feet of the attackers. Before their bodies could fall at the wooden deck, the enemy's sword drew multiple black afterimages with mist akin to the ones swirling at the borders.

'Shit!'

The enemy seized the gap in their front formation and immediately targeted the most vulnerable sentries in a frightening momentum.

Rotating like a graceful dancer, its sword immediately twisted onto the heart of one sentry, diagonally cut another in half, and pierced the eye of the striker who tried to attack from behind.

There was no longer any formation to preserve as everyone attacked at once.

The figure appeared at the edge of the main deck and disappeared again, not giving them room to retaliate. Noran gritted his teeth and brandished his sword again.

"You dirty bastard!"

'It's unbelievably fast and precise.'

Even though they carried out their missions with profound seriousness and diligence, they believed they were luckier than the others who had to circle around Olethros's incomparably dangerous borders. Compared to that suicide unit, they barely report any casualties.

Not until they encountered this anomaly.

There was no hesitation in its blade. No... it's not an 'it'.

The figure's hood rolled back, revealing his long silver locks and jaggedly cut horns. In those horns were subtly faded etched marks of what were undoubtedly a runic alphabet. Noran momentarily froze in realization, to which the assailant did not spare a chance.

'This creature...'

Corpses fell. Every time he swung his sword, the sound of flesh being sliced to the bones reached his ears. One of his cherished men turned his back, his throat letting out a raspy scream as he was cut from behind.

Noran couldn't do anything about that scream.

'It's not a corrupted beast.'

Finally moving towards him, Noran swung his sword forward to block the anticipated strike—or at least he tried to. He lost sense of his right arm as soon as he swung it.

Momentarily confused, a loud thud at his side made him turn toward the floor deck, where he saw his severed arm in a pool of blood, still tightly gripping his sword.

'He fights like how a seasoned swordsman would!'

The white-haired figure moved behind him and sliced his tendons, making him fall alongside his comrades' corpses now starting to cool.

Were they weak? In the face of such an enemy, perhaps they were. They had no choice but to admit it. But they were elites. They wouldn't be sent here to sail if they weren't qualified.

So how was it that they were being so one-sidedly massacred?

'We must...We must report this...!'

His remaining hand pitifully stretched forward, trembling as he crawled in desperation.

'That a Sorenian had left the Abyssal borders...!'

Ssok!

His worries were left unsaid as the long-haired man's sword mercilessly lodged onto his throat. The waves have slowly calmed as if responding to his will.

The humid sea air was now replaced with the overlapping stench of iron.