“Don’t move,” Zini muttered to Euness and Poly as the pale woman wrenched her body free of the Ghost Face fighter’s chest. “Don’t say anything…”
The third eye open on the woman’s forehead glistened with delight seeing Zini and others as if she were happy to see them, but her apparent malicious nature spoke of her true intentions. She crawled on all fours like an animal, her bare feet and hands slapping against the wood. As steam emanated from her body, she let out a blood-curdling shriek and hurled herself towards the distant wall, sensing a holy presence that burned her.
Both Euness and Poly flinched but a raised hand from Zini, still lying smoldering on the ground, caused them to remain still.
The pale woman's screeching voice pierced the air, her high-pitched wails now directed at the shrines of the gods. Her third eye fixated on the divine symbols, her head of white hair moving back and forth erratically. "Disgusting, decrepit, foolish Eronian gods!" she spat, her words accompanied by splatters of spittle. "Their holy presence still burns, even after all this time! King Lighteater should have annihilated you, terrible gods! He should have devoured your flesh when he had the chance!"
Zini and the others watched in helpless silence as the deranged woman clung to the wall like a spider, cursing and spitting at the sacred altar. Zini tried to come up with a plan but couldn’t think of anything, his health diminishing too rapidly and dulling his mind, making his thoughts unclear.
Poly could see Zini’s pale form withering away, his strength slowly draining with each passing moment, while Euness, consumed by fear and desperation, clung tightly to the shrine of the goddess of the four winds. His trembling lips muttered prayers in rapid succession, a desperate plea for another miracle. Poly gripped her tiny hands as she resolved herself to use her Siren’s Call, determining that it was her turn to save others.
“What on Eronia are you lot doing back there?” came an annoyed voice, unmistakably belonging to the carriage driver. Zini desperately wished he could silence the driver, but his words spilled out once more, “If any of you dare damage the priestess' carriage—”
Suddenly, an elongated tongue, the length of rope, burst forth from the pale woman's mouth, piercing through multiple walls and impaling the driver's head, instantly killing him. Zini and the others couldn’t breathe seeing such an abnormal sight as the pale woman retracted her long tongue back into her mouth, smacking her lips as she tasted the driver’s blood.
“Humans still taste the same,” she commented casually, as if eating a dish she frequently ordered at an inn. Her third eye shifted its gaze back to Zini and the others, while her long tongue slithered out to lick her lips. “I’m now so hungry…”
Suddenly, they were forcefully thrown against one side of the carriage, the impact seeming as if the vehicle had collided against something.
In the absence of the driver, the carriage careened uncontrollably and crashed into a nearby building. Unlike other cities, Soalde's architecture incorporated sage symbols as a safeguard for instances when the drivers of sage symbol carriages lost control. Harnessing the immense power of a beast with a magic core to pull a carriage of such colossal size posed risks, leading the city's builders to implement precautionary measures. Sage symbol barriers were strategically placed around buildings, activating automatically upon a sage symbol carriage driving too closely, shielding the structures from potential damage.
Pulling Vilda's carriage was the Grand Canary, a magnificent wingless bird with robust legs, yet a brain scarcely larger than a seed. Without the guiding hand of the driver, the feathered creature ran aimlessly, paying no heed to the world around it. Inside the carriage, its passengers were jolted and tossed around as the vehicle bounced off buildings crackling with protective magic. Startled patrons walking the street, reveling in the lively atmosphere of the Red Fox district, hastily scattered, narrowly avoiding the out-of-control carriage as it threatened to run them over.
Stabbed through, Joker fell to her knees, clutching her bleeding abdomen, her body crumpling like a withered flower deprived of sunlight.
“Joker!” Jack shouted, feeling as if his whole being caught fire with rage as he unloaded golden arrows upon the knight.
The knight’s body flickered in and out of view like a phantasm, effortlessly sidestepping every missile that approached him. Two colossal, metal-studded clubs slammed onto the cobbled street with a booming impact, unleashing seismic waves that rippled through the area, dislodging cobblestones. Caught in the violent surge, the knight in white armor was propelled skyward, giving the nearby marksman of the Royal Suit a clear shot.
Jack's bow and arrows illuminated with a radiant glow, as intricate sage symbols appeared around them, revealing their true nature as powerful sage symbol tools. In an instant, his weapons underwent a dramatic transformation, changing from gold into sleek obsidian, while the arrow he deftly nocked grew to the size of a colossal ballista bolt. His power caused the air around him to become warped as if a dream had become a reality.
“Spades are used for grave digging,” he rasped harshly as he unleashed the blackened arrow. The missile tore through the air, leaving behind warped space.
The knight, his face hidden behind a sleek white helmet, floating on Ace’s seismic wave, stared without concern at the oncoming attack. When the black arrow landed, a sound like screeching metal rang through the air as a streak of black light dashed across the scene. When the black light dispersed, the knight stood before them, his armor bearing only blackened scuff marks, as if brushed by a black boot. There was no other apparent damage.
Jack's expression turned solemn as he realized the gravity of the situation. The technique that had earned him his fame was known as "Grave Digger," the Royal Suit's most potent single-target attack. It involved his arrow transforming into a colossal ballista bolt, with its arrowhead taking the shape of a spade, which had earned him the moniker of "Jack of Spades." However, to his dismay, this formidable attack had proven useless against the knight.
“Ace clobbers you!” Ace's roar filled the air as he charged towards the knight, his clubs swinging with tremendous force. The knight swiftly pivoted, meeting Ace's onslaught with expert swordplay, parrying each club with single-handed strokes. As the clash intensified, a radiant blue glow enveloped Ace, illuminating their surroundings with light. With each surge of mana imbuement, Ace's muscles swelled, his strength magnifying. The knight, sensing the escalating power, focused on deflecting the colossal man's thunderous strikes, adopting a more alert stance, causing the ground to tremble beneath their feet with each impact.
Jack's dismay deepened as he observed the stranger's ability to withstand Ace's indomitable strength. Ace, although appearing human, was actually a beastman, an apeman afflicted by a disease causing hairlessness that allowed him to blend in with humans. They were originally sent on a quest to eliminate him in a jungle, but Marian's compassion had spared his life. Unbeknownst to them, they had gained a formidable and invaluable ally that day.
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To contend with an apeman in terms of strength was no small accomplishment for the knight, which did not bode well for their chances of survival.
As he thought of his allies, Jack's attention turned to their injured comrade, Joker, lying in the street bleeding. With a swift motion, he leapt to her side and lifted her in his arms. Just as he did, the knight materialized behind him, the touch of death seemingly brushing the back of his neck. However, before any strike could land, one of Ace’s clubs swung down, batting the knight away.
With distance made between them and their adversary, Jack used that time to speak. “Do we know you, friend?” Jack asked the knight, lacing his tone with charm. “If you are here for late library books, I can assure you. I will return them in due time.”
The knight chuckled, his voice sounding hollow within his metal armor, “They told me you were funny, Jack of Spades.” His white helmet turned up to the towering beastman. “Ace of Clubs, you are as strong as the rumors say.” His helmet positioned straightforward at Joker’s bleeding form in Jack’s arms. “And let’s not forget Joker the Blind Witch. Ever joking and ever laughing. It’s a shame she changed her gimmick to murdering.”
“Is this about the killings?”
“Killings, damage of property, illegal vigilantism, on and on the list of crimes go. The only due course is execution on sight. You both would do well to distance yourself from that killer, Jack.”
“You’re with the City Lord?!” Jack sputtered, unable to recognize who the man before them was. He hadn’t known Soalde to hold someone of such caliber. Suddenly, he remembered. “Alabaster Champion…?”
“If you know what I am, you know you can’t defeat me,” the knight, the Alabaster Champion, stated. “I am one of Soalde’s champions, the law embodied into a person, the champion of the people, etcetera, and etcetera.” He waved an armored hand dismissively. “I’m sure you’ve seen the posters, so there’s no need to rehash the slogans.”
Jack felt as if he were at Joker’s execution, waiting for her to stand upon stage with her head on a block, positioned underneath an executioner’s blade. And he could do nothing about it. Jack knew Alabaster Champions were of legend. Not all powerful heroes joined the Hunter’s Guild. Some took occupation working for nobility, enjoying status and prestige not unlike those of highly ranked Hunters.
Alabaster Champions were proven living legends, having slain dragons, rescued kidnapped emissaries who were captured during the Loderan-Hynul war or some other grand feat that set them apart from the norm. They were even a part of Soalde before the Hunter’s Guild arrived here.
“Just leave the blind killer and be off with you,” the Alabaster Champion offered. “Though your guild will most likely be outlawed, the Royal Suit can still survive. You can always recruit more members in other places. There’s no need for such a famous Hunter group to be destroyed here.”
From afar, next to Rose’s luxurious carriage, the showman and the others watched on as the Royal Suit were battered.
“Alabaster Champion,” Glick commented, seeing the white knight, prompting gasps to appear around him from the others. “Armed with golem armor, they are impossible to kill for anyone under the rank of Master Hunter like the Guild Master of the Hunter’s Guild.”
The champion's armor, crafted by ancient dwarves, bore the unmistakable signature of dwarven craftsmanship. However, it was unique in its kind, as only the Alabaster Champions possessed the rare and exceptional golem armor. Throughout history, no other dwarf had managed to replicate the intricate art of forging living armor like the golem armor.
“I know this one,” Rose said warily, watching the knight fight. “His name is Alistair Fore, nephew to the king.”
An undercurrent of anxious murmurs grew from the dwarves, their hushed voices revealing their growing concern.
Glick hiccupped nervously, “That would only worsen the situation for those Hunters. The Fore family is known throughout Eronia. They are an ancient lineage of humans, revered and respected by all races. Even in the dark days of the second age, there were whispers of even demons bowing before their name.”
Van stood in silence, his arms crossed, as he leaned against the carriage. His keen eyes observed the Alabaster Champion's swordsmanship, recognizing the undeniable skill in every cut. Even if they were matched in power, which they weren’t, he couldn't be certain if his own Feather Talon sword style would prevail when comparing to what the champion used. He had heard tales of the Fore family from his father, tales of their formidable sword techniques that rivaled even their own renowned family style.
"There’s only one champion of the world..." the showman grumbled, feeling envious of the Alabaster Champion who was receiving so much attention. It pained him to think that some man hiding in armor might have had more fans than he did.
"Should we lend a hand to the Royal Suit?" Dwindle suggested, stinging with guilt as he witnessed the decimation of legends of the Hunter’s Guild he had once been a part of.
No one answered him, their silence evident of what their answer was. Even if they wanted to help, fighting an Alabaster Champion was a fool’s errand and would only lead to their deaths.
Watching the battle continue, Rose's eyes widened as she saw Jack turn to start running towards them. Without shame, Jack of Spades appeared to want to involve them.
“What is that fool of a human think he’s doing?” one of Dwindle’s cousin’s blanched.
“He’s headed this way!” sputtered another cousin, Lorbrite.
“It’s too late,” Nasset stated, her face tattoo glowing. “They’re here.”
With his speed, Jack knew he wasn’t capable of escaping the champion. Instead, he swiftly made his way to Rose's carriage, seizing an opportunity to corner her and the others before they could react and flee. In the meantime, Ace kept the Alabaster Champion busy, slowing his pursuit. Ace's immense strength was complemented by his robust physique, granting him an equally formidable defense, but it was clear victory was beyond his reach.
“Don’t mind me,” Jack smiled, appearing before them, “I’m just out for a nice run.”
“Have you no shame?” Rose asked with immense indignation, unable to fathom Jack’s actions.
“The champion is coming!” one of the dwarves shouted as Ace and the knight battled it out on their way to them.
“All I ask is that you take Joker and heal her,” Jack pleaded, dropping to his knees and offering up the dying Joker with his hands for Rose to take.
Rose stepped back, unwilling to shoulder such a burden, particularly with a member of the Fore family about to arrive. “Your comrade nearly got us killed and shattered my dreams, Jack. How can I find it within me to show mercy when none was shown to me in my circumstances by her?”
“Can’t you forgive her this once?” Jack continued to beg, his voice growing more desperate. “Allow me to apologize on her behest. I can go further, if you wish. I am willing to become a slave to the Verdinant family. Please, just allow me this one kindness and show mercy to a woman I consider a little sister.”
His words held no sway with Rose. She was still reeling from her dreams being utterly ruined and her future now set in stone, unable to escape from her fate. And it was all because of Joker.
However, before she could deny Jack once again, her gaze landed on the showman who was observing. She bit her lip as the memory of her and Red in the carriage replayed in her mind.
“What is a hero?” he had asked her.
“Those that do the right thing.” She had answered him with.
With her eyes set upon the showman’s, she grimaced, “Damn you, Red.”
In turn, the showman became confused. What did he do? Why was she upset with him?
“Laira! Heidal!” Rose suddenly called out and two servants dressed in white materialized from the carriage, bowing at the waist. Rose turned to them and ordered, “Take Miss Joker in and heal her. Find where Mister Polopp is hiding and ask him for his potions.”
As Joker was taken from him, Jack tried to thank her, “Words cannot express—”
“Save it, Mister Jack,” Rose denied and looked beyond him toward the two figures approaching rapidly, locked in combat. “You have much more pressing issues barreling down besides being in debt to me.” She addressed those with her, “Everyone, get aboard the carriage and allow the two members of the Royal Suit to have their last glorious day in battle.”
“You make it seem like I will lose,” Jack smiled, but his charm couldn’t hide his anxiety. He, as well as everyone else knew he was walking to the executioner’s block trying to contend with an Alabaster Champion. However, as he turned around, a surprising figure glowing gold light stood in his path, boldly pointing a finger towards the approaching champion, issuing a challenge that demanded attention.
“What a big phony!” the showman bellowed, his voice rumbling. “To think chickenfeed like you would go around calling yourself champion? Ha!” He began to flex and posed, his golden glow intensifying as air distorted around him in crackling pops. “Red Rumble has been hearing the voices of the people, oh yea! They’ve become sick and tired of you, the big pretender, that’s right. They want a real champion, the people’s champion, and that’s me!”