Arrows were starting to become Arlosse’s most hated form of weaponry. On top of the fact that he wasn’t too good at using the bow in his past life, the fact that he was constantly brushing against death even now because of incoming, lithe projectiles only served to fuel his bias against the long-range weapon.
Arlosse had managed to kill him in the end, but an especially skilled human archer had nearly got him in the eye right when he was looting equipment off the corpses.
The thought of the sharp arrowhead so close that it could graze his cornea bumped into Arlosse’s mind. He shuddered. Coincidentally, the white horse did as well.
It had been five minutes since Arlosse had begun using Reform on the ghastly injury on its chest. He was sitting beside the horse, his arm already starting to complain of numbness. Twenty-five minutes more remained till the great horse was healed, and it didn’t seem nearly as patient as Arlosse’s stiff arm.
The Hollow Demonling sighed.
‘At least I’m better protected now. By some margin,’ he thought, and he checked the brass-coloured cuirass he wore over a dusty leather jerkin. The corpses around the protrusion he, the white horse, and Castor were hiding behind had some choice pieces of equipment, even though most of them were ripped or burned by the same blows that took their lives. Unfortunately, all of these sets were heavily damaged to the extent that the Enchantments and attributes imbued within them were rendered inactive.
Skullius only managed to salvage two barely working pieces of equipment.
Around his forearms, Arlosse wore a set of steel and leather bracers that offered 8 points to his Endurance, and his legs were protected by greaves and tough boots made from the skin of some creature he could not identify. They added 5 to his Strength and 6 to his Agility.
‘I guess the killing blows the owners received didn’t damage the legs or arms, but still…’ Arlosse thought.
For now, these served well for him. It was better than the burnt tunic he had been wearing.
“So, Castor…” he said, and the young human warrior flinched. Even with his varying thoughts about Arlosse, he never forgot to be vigilant and afraid. “As you are very informed and, of course, learned, how about you tell me all you know about demons? You called me a Hybrid earlier. What does that mean?”
Castor’s face turned into something like crumpled paper.
At first, the young man had been willing to reconcile with Arlosse’s ignorance as long as it was attributed to him being some kind of demon born outside the lands he (Castor) knew. Castor had imagined that perhaps Arlosse had just arrived on the battlefield, led by some vague clue he found on the way from home. It was far-fetched, but it helped him come to terms with how a demon wasn’t privy to even the Verdance.
He was forced to doubt even that line of thinking now. After a heavy, painful sigh, he began to explain. It was no use gasping at Arlosse’s more advanced forms of ignorance.
“As far as I know, there are four kinds of demons, and all of them are identified and ranked by the purity of their blood. Royal Bloods, Dark Bloods, Hybrids, and Scatter Bloods. Royal Bloods have the purest demon blood, and Scatter Bloods have the most diluted, unclean blood.”
Arlosse squinted his eyes.
He found this explanation rather lackluster.
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If Scatter Bloods had diluted blood, why wasn’t he considered one? The word Hybrid referred to some kind of mix, after all.
Of course, the term Hybrid could have also referred to…
“Judging by your explanation, I’m assuming you omitted the part where a Hybrid is a special kind of Scatter Blood, right? A Hybrid is a mix between human and demon, isn’t it?” Arlosse said.
To his surprise, Castor didn’t rush to affirm his deduction or gape at it at the very least.
The second sigh he gave told a lot about his resignation at wondering and questioning how Arlosse had to be taught things like this. The young human warrior had seen the look in Arlosse’s eyes. It was said the eyes were windows to the soul. Castor was forced to admit. In Arlosse’s soul, he saw no deceit. He might as well have been teaching a man who had been living in a cave for all his life.
“That’s sort of true, I suppose. But it’s a lot more complicated than that,” he said and he hugged his legs while resting his back on the wall of the stone protrusion. There have been humans who have mated with demons and vice versa, and their spawn is given the name Hybrid, but the term is older and much more nuanced than simple cross-breeding between mature demons and humans.”
Arlosse frowned.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s believed that in the very beginning of all things, there was only soils – the land – and precious waters of life. The two made up the world, and it was a conscious being, full to bursting with supernatural potential. But being such a vast and simple thing, the world did not understand how to give all its potential greater, more profound form. Eventually, it settled upon turning its energy into seeds. They were buried in the soils and watered by the seas.”
“But as much as the land was bountiful and the waters from the sea plenty, there was just too much seed. Every seed of every kind of living thing that exists today was pressed against each other in those days before they matured. It’s said that the majority of Scatter Bloods were formed this way. Some were pressed against the seeds of different kinds of insects, and plants and common beasts for too long, and thus their traits bled into each other. Some demon seeds pressed against those of humans, and when they matured, they became Hybrids. Many still, the more potent seeds of demon kind, retained their purity against the odds: the Royal Bloods.”
“Is this some kind of folktale?” Arlosse said. He couldn’t take this story seriously, and he felt justified in that.
“It’s true! It makes all the sense in the world!” Castor snapped at him. Arlosse imagined it must have been a story a cherished member of his family used to tell him, given his reaction. The young man was, in fact, young.
“Is that right? Then what about humans? How come there are no different kinds of Scatter Blood humans?” asked Arlosse.
Castor scoffed.
“Because humans had the lightest seeds of all. Save for a few, we made the topmost layer of the collection. We were barely tainted. Even the Hybrids that came about because of us weren’t many at all. Human and demon blood is highly incompatible. In the present generations, no spawn of human and demon lives long. They have to be especially lucky to live.”
When he said this, Castor made it a point to emphasize with his look that he suspected Arlosse to be one such lucky kind.
Arlosse picked up on it, but he knew it was irrelevant. He didn’t come about because of some human and demon mating. Disregarding the matter, he continued to argue the validity of Castor’s story.
“Why is it that humans have the lightest seed? Is there an explanation or did the person who fabricated this story not bother with a reason?” he said.
“Of course, there’s a reason!” Castor hissed and then he smirked. “It’s because we have a natural, perfect affinity for the world and all that is in it. That’s why the Verdance, which is a part of the world accepts us and shuns you. You are susceptible to evil and have no affinity for the natural riches of the world. It’s said that the world pressed the dregs of its potential – the seeds of your kind – deeper into the soil so that it would be harder for you to mature.”
“There’s a lot of said in your explanation,” Arlosse said with a sigh. Because of his past life, he never liked it when he received second or third-hand information. There was usually a bloody end attached to taking such a message at face value. To him, it was only natural for a young man, fresh on the battlefield like Castor, to still believe folktales beginning or ending in said and told.
“What does that matter?” Castor said sharply, his brows furrowing. “Dark Bloods are all the evidence you need to prove that demons are attracted to hidden taboos in the world. Humans can handle blasphemous powers like sorcery, but only demons can thrive while using them.”
Arlosse was taken aback.
“Did you say sorcery?”