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All The Dead Sinners
And in their hands, the daggers - 10.1 (2)

And in their hands, the daggers - 10.1 (2)

The teachers managed to calm the other students down in the end. After making such a fuss, it was surprising that their nervous breakdowns had not been interrupted by a surprise attack from the darkness.

The enemies were here, no doubt, and they had stolen the weapons.

But they hadn't yet attacked.

He should be relieved that they were finally done with it. But the way they had managed to calm the students was not to his liking.

They were on their way again.

To the basement, now.

Jack, who had the key to the basement, unlocked it. Desmond passed inside like the other students, clenching his fists. And he told himself that he would let it go, that the time would come, that, if this became a serious emergency, then there would be nothing and no one who could stop him, who could keep him here, but... but he couldn't hold back, he couldn't.

So he turned around. And he spoke.

"This is a big mistake."

"That may be, but it doesn't matter," Jack said. "You're a soldier, boy. And you'll obey the chain of command."

"That's not what I'm... Sir. I'm not asking you to let these kids fight. Not even my team. But you should at least let me out. Sir, I'm strong. I destroyed one of the Empire's spiders on my own."

There was disbelief on his face. Of course, as expected.

"You can ask my teachers. They were all there that day. They all saw it... saw me."

Jack, hesitating, looked back. Isabella took a step forward.

"He's right. It's hard for me to say, putting a great weight on a child's shoulders if it's not necessary. But he's right. Without him, chances are we all would have died that day."

Jack thought about it.

"No. We'll see how the situation develops, but no, not at the moment. Let's not put children in danger unnecessarily."

We're already in danger, you piece of shit, he thought.

Jack put a hand on the door.

With his fingers, as if he had paint on the tips, he traced a blue circle on the door. That must be his affinity, it wasn't comprehensible at first glance.

But he gave the explanation soon after.

"This ought to take just about anything," he said. "Don't worry. We'll take care of this."

And he closed the fucking door.

Desmond, clenching his fists, backed away from the door, put his back against a wall. Christina and Amy went after him.

"Desmond, you wanted to go alone earlier. I hope you know we weren't going to leave you," Christina said.

"Well, I..."

Desmond was going to say that that wasn't his intention.

That he hadn't demanded much to make it more likely that Jack would agree to what he was asking. But, while there was a logic to it, it wasn't the truth, he realized.

The truth was that he didn't even want to risk losing them.

On the day of the attack on the academy, he hadn't had anything to lose, which was why he had been able to face everything, even his own death, in such a carefree manner.

But since then he had gained so many new things... which he had never believed were for him....

And now he refused to let go of them with everything he had.

But who did he think he was? What kind of life did he think they would lead? They were soldiers.

He couldn't always keep them out of harm's way, away from the battlefield. He couldn't and had no right to even try, for that matter.

This was the life they had chosen....

And they were good at it. They had survived many battles together. Today was no different.

"Sure," he said at last. "But it was worth a try. Changing his mind, I mean."

"We don't need his permission to do anything," Amy said. "If things go wrong, we can get out of here. Surely Christina would be able to break down the door even with that protection."

Christina shrugged.

"I won't know until I try. But yes. Probably."

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She looked at the door, at the engraved symbol shining above it like the reflection of the moon on the surface of the waters of a lake.

"We'll see," she slowly said, "If things go wrong... or if trouble comes knocking at our door."

They had left one of the teachers posted in front of the basement door. Just in case.

Isabella's magic was connected to nature. In other words, inside a building she was practically defenseless. Having to fall back on basic spells, which didn't rely on affinity.

So perhaps she should have been the one to stand watch.

Instead of advancing forward, in search of the enemy.

Perhaps, putting her pride aside for a moment, that was where she could best contribute from.

But...

But she had not been the one chosen and no one, not even the other teachers of The Four Seasons, who were aware of her... problem had said anything about it.

And Isabella didn't want to humiliate herself that way, stepping forward, admitting her weakness in front of everyone.

It wasn't a purely selfish decision, though.

She could handle herself; she had done it during the attack at the academy, during countless other situations, in the war, and now would be no different.

Besides, if she was weak, then it could also be said that she was the least suitable person to protect the children.

That someone... "better" had to be in that position, even if it meant lowering the collective strength of the group that was on the hunt for the enemy.

In any case, it was too late to change the decision.

They were about two dozen teachers.

She wished all of her comrades could have gone with them, she had brushed with death alongside them more times than she could count and she absolutely trusted every one of those men and women.

Unfortunately, the exercise hadn't been set up that way.

It would have to be enough.

They were searching, but so far they hadn't found even the slightest trace of the enemy.

Well, nothing leaving aside the blackout and the ransacked armory. They could be anywhere. With their firearms, they could be dead before they realized there were enemies present.

Many who were inexperienced believed that the sound of gunfire could warn you, enough to dodge in any case.

It was not.

Death could come for any of them without them even being able to register that they were going to die.

A terrifying thought.

They split in two, so they could search the dining room, kitchen and assembly hall at the same time.

They found nothing, but rather were found.

Isabella heard a muffled scream.

She shook off the shiver that came over her, the paralysis of fear, and made a run for the source of the sound.

Isabella wasn't the first to arrive.

The first to see what was left. A man lying on the ground, his neck slashed open from side to side. A carpet of blood stretched out beneath him.

Beneath Alfred.

It wasn't one of her own. He wasn't, but it's not like she wouldn't mourn his loss. Her heart wasn't cold enough for that.

In fact, her heart mourned every loss. And she couldn't forget them.

How many losses would there be by the time the night was over?

She shook off the shiver that came over her, the paralysis of fear, and made a run for the source of the sound.

Isabella wasn't the first to arrive.

The first to see what was left. A man lying on the ground, his neck slashed open from side to side. A carpet of blood stretched out beneath him.

Beneath Alfred.

It wasn't one of her own. He wasn't, but it's not like she wouldn't mourn his loss. Her heart wasn't cold enough for that.

In fact, her heart mourned every loss. And she couldn't forget them.

How many losses would there be by the time the night was over?

6

Desmond was still waiting in the darkness and silence of the basement, as was everyone else. The only thing illuminating the darkness was the bluish glow of the symbol engraved by Jack. This was a windowless basement.

No light, no noise, even if it wasn't voices. Nothing at all.

Time was stretching into eternity.

He had the feeling that not even a full minute had passed since the teachers had left, after closing the door.

It couldn't have been, but Desmond had the feeling, anyway.

But things changed.

Suddenly, without warning. A darkness crept under the door. It was like shadows controlled by Christina. It seemed to have mass, moved like a living thing. So unreasonably the first thing Desmond did was to look at the girl.

As if expecting to find a simple explanation there.

But in reality Christina was as surprised as he himself, as everyone else.

No, this wasn't Christina's doing.

Of course it wasn't.

The mass of darkness passed to the other side. And, little by little, it took on a humanoid shape. Two arms, two legs, a torso and a head. But that was as far as her

resemblance to a normal human being. It had nothing else. It was like a living shadow. It was like something out of a nightmare.

Except for what it carried in its hand. A dagger that glowed under the light of the symbol of protection that Jack had engraved, and that this thing had passed under without a problem.

That dagger was very real. Concrete.

It made it impossible to say that this couldn't be true, that he had fallen asleep, perhaps, or things like that.

Just because he hadn't heard of such a thing didn't mean it didn't exist. But to do something like this... It had to be the work of a magician.

It didn't seem like something possible through current technology.

Who knows what the current level of technology was, of course they weren't going to share their secrets with the enemy, but if they had technology capable of dissolving the human body and rebuilding it like nothing else, then it would see wider use.... in warfare. Weapons and devices. Everywhere, really. It could be useful in too many ways.

It wouldn't be something that would suddenly appear one night, in a random attack, without anyone having suspected that something like that existed.

What it meant...

Without a doubt, it meant that this time's adversary was a mage who had betrayed his homeland.

All the people who lived in it and his human heart, above all else, at that.

Like Laura.

Another inhuman being like her.

Desmond clenched his fists. But he was just an assassin, and he'd walked into a place filled with dozens of soldiers, even if they were still training.

It had no chance of actually getting out of here. Even without a sword, Desmond would tear him apart before he could get anything....

Unfortunately, his optimistic thoughts collided head-on with harsh reality.

He didn't realize what had happened.

The first thing he perceived was blood flying.

He felt warmth and surprise, but no pain. That was because the blood spilled hadn't been his own. Someone else's blood had splashed on his cheek.

He followed the blood and saw the person, and the first thing he felt was relief.

Seeing a girl her age lying on the ground, hands around her neck, drowning in her own blood, the first thing he felt was relief that it hadn't happened to anyone he cared about.

Not Christina, not Amy.

The shadow danced in the bluish darkness of the basement. Next to his blood-stained dagger.

Someone recovered enough to attack the living shadow.

To try to cut it with a wind blade.

And, for a few delirious seconds, Desmond thought they had succeeded. But he was wrong. The shadow was indeed split in two. But it had not been split in two, it had split its body into two halves voluntarily, a macabre way of dodging an attack.

It reunited the halves when the attack passed.

And in less than the blink of an eye it was on the move again, in their midst, just like the screams and blood, everywhere. Sowing chaos. Sowing death.

Desmond exploded and leapt into action.