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Blood of the Merciless
Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Five

FINAL ACT: Adhu Aqua

25.

Ashe had been standing next to her horse, in front of her had been tall mountains. Not as tall as Versus. If anything these mountains had been dwarves compared to Versus. Behind her had been the town of Isern. The tall building in the middle makes certain that you would never miss it. Florian had been laying on the floor. He was breathing softly. The young boy who said that his name was Everard had also been on the floor, resting as he said. They spoke a little on the way to the mountain base. He had said that he was a healer from Meinspir, that he was in Isern to try and heal Chapman from an incurable disease. She was not certain she believed the boy but she had no reason to not trust him as well. And it seemed that he was responsible for keeping Florian alive. That was all she wished for. She was speechless when she saw the state he had been in. She wished that she had been the one that had been sent to the factory instead. She knew Alaric would have never allowed her to go. She was cut from her thoughts when she heard a horse gallop towards them. She tightened her grip on her spear. She heard Everard shuffle on the floor. Once she saw the figures on top of the horse, she smiled. Alaric rode in front and Savia had a tight hold on him. She looked terrified. The look on Savia's face made Ashe chuckle. The horse stopped in front of them. Alaric got off first and helped Savia down. Now that Savia had been back on the ground her expression went neutral. Ashe walked up to her.

"Not accustomed to riding horses?" Ashe asked.

Ashe expected Savia not to answer.

"No."

Ashe's eyes went wide when she heard her voice. She almost jumped and hugged the woman but she chose not to. She realised the woman would probably not like that. Instead, she smiled at Savia. To her surprise, the woman gave her a small smirk.

"Do not worry, I was the same way when I rode the first time."

This time Savia did not respond. Ashe did not mind it. She had made precious progress.

"My name is Ashe, I am Alaric's little sister."

Savia was silent before she spoke. "Savia."

"Nice to meet you Savia. And thank you for taking care of Alaric. I know he can be stubborn."

Savia looked at her dumbfounded. Savia mumbled something but Ashe could not hear it. She asked for Savia to repeat it but she never did. Ashe's concentration turned to Alaric who walked up to Everard.

"Stand up, boy. We have no time to rest." Alaric grabbed Florian and hoisted him over his shoulders.

"I am no boy, my name is Everard."

Alaric just glanced at him. "Whatever you say, boy." "Heal while we climb."

Everard had a sour expression.

"You know what I do?"

Alaric did not turn to face him, instead, he began to walk up the narrow pathway of the mountain. The green liquid formed from Everard's chest once again.

"Desano, a small group of casters that reside in Meinspir. The rarest type of casting available in all of Hominus. You can heal most illnesses. The amount of Desano that exists is a mere one in ten million," Alaric spoke with no emotion. The rest of the group followed behind him. She was exhausted but kept moving. Her eyes were getting progressively heavier as they climbed.

Alaric seemed to notice this. "We will rest, once we are further away from Isern."

Ashe nodded at him.

"How did you create that tidal wave?" Everard asked.

Ashe half expected Alaric not to answer him because of his attitude towards Everard earlier. So, when he responded it slightly shocked her.

"It was a simple enhance cast mixed with a barrier cast using the river as the material."

Ashe watched as the cogs in Everard’s head turned.

"But on that level, it should be impossible… I have heard of casters working in tandem to create a mixture of casts but…" "I refuse to believe that was all you did."

Alaric held a slight smirk. "Maybe we had some help from a god."

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Everard raised an eyebrow. "God? Like the ones, Ysgafyn folk believe in? How did you channel their power?"

Ashe giggled. Alaric did not answer any of the boy's questions after that.

They reached a flat section of the mountain trail and Alaric told them to rest here. Once Ashe's body relaxed, sleep took over immediately.

Ashe woke up to a low growl. A large cat-like animal stood before her. It was about to pounce on her. Ashe lifted her arms to protect herself. The animal did not reach her. It bounced off of the barrier that surrounded her. She immediately scrambled to grab her spear when a voice yelled out.

"Stand down, Yago!" It was Everard. At the sound of his voice, the cat immediately relaxed. Everard walked up to the cat and rubbed its fur. The cat seemed to be enjoying it and leaned further into Everard's touch. She looked around and noticed Alaric as well as Savia was ready to fight.

"Everybody can relax. This is my companion, Yago. He has been with me ever since I was a child." Everard explained.

"And what is keeping the ocelot from attacking us, boy?" Alaric asked.

The cat growled as Alaric spoke.

"Yago won't attack unless I tell him to."

Alaric raised an eyebrow at Everard but spoke no further. Instead, he turned to Ashe.

"Are you okay?"

"I am a bit startled but I feel good."

Everard walked up to her and was followed by the ocelot.

"I apologise for the rude awakening, Lady Ashe. Yago can be a bit protective of me sometimes."

Ashe waved him off. "It is fine, Everard. If anything Alaric is a bit protective of me too."

The boy chuckled. "I guess they are quite similar, Alaric and Yago." The ocelot growled as he said it causing her to hold back a laugh. She did notice how Everard did not add an honorific to Alaric's name when he had called both her and Savia 'Lady'.

She glanced at Alaric who was speaking to Savia. Savia had been nodding at him. Alaric picked up Florian, who had more colour to his cheeks and had been bleeding less, up from off the ground. He then turned to Ashe. "It is time to go. If the ocelot caught up to us, who knows who might be following us."

Ashe nodded as they began their trek further up the mountain.

Godric had grown more and more frustrated over the past months. He rubbed viciously at the scar over his nose. There had been no news regarding Jerial. Not of his existence or his actions. Just a stupid letter they have received from a merchant claiming that Jerial threatened him. He had called to meet this senile merchant just for him to say that Jerial had been a young man. He knew that the merchant had been spewing lies. So he had him executed for his insolence. Jerial had to be as old as he was, and he definitely would not be wasting his time in a poor village such as Nezzagwyn. He spent all his time focused on finding Jerial. It had slowed his progress at invading Ysgafyn. He did not care about the invasion, Jerial had been the bigger threat, a threat that could potentially bring ruin to his kingdom. Godric thought back to the day of the King's Rite, a day where he stood victorious over his competitors and now council of Great Lords. Part of him always felt as if his victory had been a fluke. His ascension to the throne had been built on lies. All because of one man. Jerial the Merciless. He had not taken the Rite seriously. The most powerful caster to live on Hominus since Heinzidal had given up the throne and given it to Godric. The thought infuriated him. All that he had left Godric with was this nasty scar. Then the bastard went to die alone in his castle. Godric had sent assassin's and tried to poison Jerial many times but he always evaded the attempts. Godric had long since stopped the assassination attempts and then Jerial just dropped dead. It was suspicious. Godric did not sleep for months. His greatest enemy and the strongest caster of his generation just dropped dead. A loud knock broke Godric out of his thoughts.

"Your majesty. I have come with news. May I enter?" The voice was muffled.

"You may enter Dalton," Godric said.

The iron doors opened up to reveal his loyal servant. Dalton had been at his side before he ascended to the throne when he was still a Great Lord. They have been through a lot together. He trusted this man with his life. Dalton walked until he was before the throne and knelt before Godric. Godric noticed that the doors were not closed behind Dalton as they usually are. He could see the stress on the man's face.

"Bad news, I assume?"

Dalton slowly nodded before he spoke. "We have received a letter from Betisa."

Godric raised an eyebrow. "She should be in Isern by now."

Dalton nodded. "I am afraid they were attacked, Your Majesty."

Godric leaned forward.

"They are not certain if the attack was directed at them. Chapman has been killed as well as all his men. And I am afraid Lord Everard is missing."

Godric assumed Dalton thought he was going to react badly but he just sat back.

"Tell me more about the attack."

"An unknown caster of immense skill summoned a large tidal wave and wiped out Betisa's whole squad. Betisa would like to add that it had caught them off guard."

Godric smiled and then began laughing. "This is what we are looking for. This unknown caster has to be him. He went to take out Chapman because he wanted to stop my metal factory. Everard's presence was just a bonus for him."

"What shall we do, your majesty?"

"Send word to Great Lord Ivo, he shall personally go to Isern and search for any sign that Jerial is or was there. And when Betisa returns, have her executed. The Zidal Empire has no use for weak casters such as herself."

"And what of Lord Everard?"

"We shall do nothing about Everard. It is unfortunate but he chose his death."

Dalton hesitantly nodded. As Dalton walked back to the entrance, a spear flew through the air. Piercing Dalton through the chest. His body fell limply to the ground. Godric instantly moved off the throne. He held his arms in front of him with his hands stretched out. His palms facing toward the ground. The red runes on his gauntlets shone as the metal floor twisted as if made of liquid and two blades were formed. The blades had been made entirely from metal and floated into his grip. Two blue-robed soldiers entered the room each wielding a blade of their own. They tried to charge Godric but he was faster. His armoured boots slid against the metal floor as he glided across the room. It looked as if he had been on skates. He was fast. Much faster than a normal man. The two soldiers could not react in time as their heads fell off of their bodies. Godric dropped the blood-stained blades onto the floor and the floor absorbed the blades, leaving only a blood puddle behind.

Who is foolish enough to assassinate me?