"Sin is both man and the gods’ downfall. Whether that be envy at what another individual can do, or a pride so tall they believe themselves a god in a mortal frame. Sin is often frowned upon, but without sin, there cannot exist good in this world."
-Extract from a Defaced Tome, By ???
Cynthia Alexis was born an illegitimate child to the Alexis family, an outcast who was eventually exiled to poverty, living off the stolen scraps of food of unfortunate travellers. That was when she unlocked her Arts; the Spirit Arts. However, it was awakened when a gang of cutthroats in the area caught wind of her activity and decided to take it into their own hands by 'dealing' with her. Cynthia was attacked and her first Art awoke, Spirit Art: Flame's Fury. An offensive Art, that incinerated her attackers on the spot, a new and powerful offensive Art, which was later documented in the Spirit Arts grimoire at the Guild Archives. That Art alone was enough to earn her not only a position of power in Middle Alandriel, but a respectable rank too if she enlisted in the Guild. And soon after that, she awakened another Art, which had never been recorded in the Spirit Arts grimoire before just like the previous Art she had awoken; Spirit Art: Soul Synthesis. Previously, Spirit Arts when used for healing used their spirit's attribute to heal their target in a certain way, which led to specific spirit attributes being used for specific operations and procedures. This was due to the fact that certain types could actually hinder or harm a patient if used on the wrong type of injury. Yet this ignored that irrefutable fact. Cynthia's spirit type was of fire, as per her offensive Art. Despite this, with this new Art she could copy the shape of her own spirit and bestow it to the target's spirit, creating a replica spirit shape that the damaged spirit would take on; essentially, it meant that any injury of any kind no matter how severe could be healed. And, as a result of this, Cynthia's position as an illegitimate child was revoked, and when her father died, she would inherit the family. So, when that time came, she became the head of the Alexis family, before she, in retribution, liquefied all of the family's assets and ran the family into the ground. As pay-back, she always insisted.
Cynthia shortly after that enlisted in the Guild and was put into Class 1-A, along with many others, and three people who she would come to call friends. David Raigeki, who Cynthia regarded as her brother before his passing, Ellis Hang, who Cynthia adored messing around and playing with before he became him, and last but by no means least, Lucan Duskwalker; the man she fell in love with. The man who could not return her feelings. The man who she lost. The man who came back to her, as another man. On the other hand, Lucan always thought of Cynthia as his sister, in the same way she had thought of David. Lucan now, after two decades, would come back to her and beg for help.
"-How are you?" Cynthia blurted out after a long, unbroken silence. When she heard that the Rogue himself was requesting her assistance, she couldn't deny how happy she felt. Cynthia immediately rushed over thinking that her Lucan was back... but no. It was that Lucan. After a few hours of working on the boy, she had finally got him into a stable state, where the patient only needed to be checked up on every hour or so. And after that; silence. Endless sitting and waiting. Lucan looked like he hadn't aged a day, and Igo? Well, Igo would always be Igo. The man who she had always considered her father, rather than that living pig carcass of her real father, Ivan Alexis. Thank Elase he's dead. Once Igo had gone about half an hour ago to call off the search for this boy, it was just herself and Lucan. Herself, sitting on the boy's bed, and that man wearing Lucan's skin, standing by the wall opposite them.
"I'm good." Lucan muttered. That voice. That voice! How much she had longed to hear it once more, even for a fraction of a second. Cynthia couldn't help herself when a grin formed on her face, "You, Cindy?"
"It was lonely. That's the least I can say. When you went missing the entire Guild was in disarray; the disappearance of one of their platinums is no simple matter. Me and David sort of accepted it after a while, since you never really came back after that time, did you?"
"..."
"Nothing to say as always," Cynthia laughed, cynically, "Ellis was the one who took it the hardest. He no longer had to even contemplate someone taking over his number one spot, since no one could ever reach him but you. He stopped going out on missions. He... how could I say this? He regressed. Regressed into the horrible human being he is now, capturing and torturing someone to death at the slightest possibility they knew where you were. If you didn't believe that then, this boy's a testament to that... thing and what he does."
"I always knew what he was doing," Lucan interjected, with Cynthia surprised that this Lucan had changed from their usual mannerisms. Changed in a way that gave her a slither of hope that the old Lucan could come back, "I was simply a coward. Too afraid to forsake my own new life for the sake of others like I had. That realisation ruined me. So I became a teacher. I tried to make up for that by bestowing my values and experience upon others so they wouldn't fall victim to people like him.
"Oh, how foolish was I to even think that," Lucan laughed. A sinister, chilling laugh that felt awkward coming from that man. A laugh that should have belonged to the old Lucan, was coming out of the new one. But it was forced, as if the man in front of Cynthia was trying his hardest to be another person, who he knew he could never be. "Why did I ever believe that in the-"
"He's awake" Cynthia said coolly, causing Lucan to pull his head up from where it was slowly sinking downwards, and glare towards the half-dead boy on the bead forcing his eyes open.
"Igo! Someone get Igo!" Lucan shouted, trying to look around in hope that he's already here.
"I'll go look for him. Let the other nurses deal with the boy." Cynthia responded curtly, ordering her assistants who were standing by to get to work, before rushing off and out of the infirmary. At first the boy who had just woken up was calm. His eyes darted around the room in a frenzy, confused about where he was. At the moment he saw Lucan, however, his entire eye went black with the dilating of his pupil. The boy's jaw began to slowly drip downwards, and his tongue began to move and wiggle as if the words he was trying to spit out were lost before he could even begin to pronounce them. First, Daniel's tongue tried to push against an imaginary set of teeth, since his two sets of teeth were sitting on his jaws which were hanging apart. Then, his tongue just hung in the middle of his mouth, un-moving. It was at that moment, Lucan realised that this wasn't the random movements of a delirious boy but he was actually trying to say something. He thought that, the first letter could have been an 'f' or 's' and the second probably a 'u' since the shape of his mouth wasn't circular at the time of pronouncing, instead ovular. At last, the tongue curled and pressed against the roof of his mouth, as Daniel himself lurched forward slightly as if trying to force the sound out of it. An 'n' sound perhaps? Was the boy trying to say 'fun'? What on Alium does that mean?! Or maybe-
"-Why..." a meek voice screeched, coming from Daniel,
"Why- Sun!"
Sun. Of course. It all made sense. How stupid could I be? Thinking that people nowadays have the even slightest of common decency not to betray their friends. But what was I expecting from Ellis' son of all people? Mercy? Integrity? A speck of respect? Daniel made friends with Sun, so it was only natural he found out his link with Igo and therefore, me. Never mind. Ellis waged war on me so it would only be natural that there would be casualties. Both me and Ellis know how war works. Especially with me. He dared touch someone I cared about. And so I will kill someone he cares about. Me? As Lanyon? Fuck off. This time he had gone too far, not me. And it's time he faces the consequences for all the shit he has pulled. Lucan, so absorbed in himself and his loathing of others, did not even notice that Daniel had begun to convulse and shake and scream for help, for he had used everything in his being to say those words. Everything that had been healed. Lucan, overcome by rage, didn't even bother trying to see what was in front of him. He had only one true goal set in his mind at that moment. To kill.
A blur or two tried to stop him. He was running out of the infirmary with such a gaze of intimidation that even the other patients were beginning to choke up and get frightened by it. Someone was shouting. It didn't matter to Lucan. When he wanted to kill someone, no one could stop him. Not even Ellis tried to hamper him when he tried it in the past. Who would dare get in his way when even the great Inquisitor didn't!?
"Lucan!" Igo exclaimed, shaking Lucan vigorously. After being told about Daniel's awakening by Cynthia, he had rushed over immediately and since he was already on his way back, it didn't take long to get to the infirmary. However, when Igo arrived, he saw Daniel convulsing and shaking on his bed and Lucan walking away, with a cold stare. That same stare he wore when he was about to kill someone. That couldn't mean anything good.
"Igo." Lucan stated, in a dead, emotionless voice, "Sun caused this. Ellis caused this. I'm going to make them pay. You cannot stop me now. You know that better than anyone."
"You can't do that, Lucan!" Igo reprimanded him, almost looking like a father punishing his son, and he now knew exactly what the boy was about to try. "You've exposed yourself this much already, and getting yourself involved with Sun will spell death for you! You have nothing, literally nothing to fall back on if you do this! I won't even be able to support you if you do! Just calm down and be rational for once!"
"I am perfectly rational, father. This isn't the place for you to get involved." and the worst part to Igo was that he did sound rational. To any sane person it was so obviously stupid you would wonder if this person is the Rogue, but to Lucan, this was rational. That was just how his mind worked. And Igo could see that, meaning nothing at this point could change his mind. "Now let me do my work."
"Lucan please," begged Igo, grabbing Lucan's shoulder as he barged through him. If being rational couldn't save him now, hopefully the pleading of his father would. "You don't have to do this.
"No," Lucan repented, a slight sentimental grin forming on his face, "I'm sorry Igo, but this time I do have to do this. If not for Daniel, for my own conscience. And David."
It was ironic. If this was the old Lucan, he still would have done exactly this as he is doing now, except his old friend from his past life wouldn't have been an afterthought. It would have been his entire reason for doing it, rather than clearing his conscience. That sad reminder could only make Igo weep. Weep in hope for the old Lucan to return. And weep in hope that what he was about to do wouldn't claim his life.
* * *
Kirk Donaldson always had the appearance and stupor of a drunken idiot, spending all his nights lounging in bars and the like, everyone believing that he wanted to experience the last years of his life as an old man the best he could. That was a lie of course. A hard to keep up facade which he had to deal with every day in order to stay covert. That could include actually going to bars and inns and getting drunk and rowdy or just using that as an excuse, but in the end it was all controlled. Every action and word to every person he ever spoke to. Controlled. Kirk woke up at the same time every single day to the second; went out to work at the exact same time to the second as well; worked in the Academy to the exact same time to the second every time and eventually went home or got drunk at a bar or inn at the same time every day. He even ensured that he always got to sleep at the same time every day no matter what situation he was in. In order to keep control and order, he had to. An extremely scarce number of people knew the truth behind his actions, including his best friend, the Guild Master himself. And all who knew wouldn't dare disturb his routine; not even the Guild Master.
"Who are you?" said Kirk, noticing a man emitting such blood-lust that anyone inexperienced enough would simply drop to the floor, unconscious. This man who dared to enter a sacred building such as the Academy, and a man who dared disturb his slumber, would surely face his questioning if that man's answer didn't please Kirk.
"Just a man passing through. None of your business" that man replied rudely, making Kirk open his eyes. The man's face looked familiar but the rest of his appearance certainly did not. A cloak made from shadow itself, two daggers holstered at his waist, a war-torn tunic and a thirst for blood. Not only that, but he disturbed his rest.
"Answer me" Kirk raised his voice, vehemence dripping from every syllable he spoke. A primeval fear began to well-up inside of Lucan. He, in search of Sun, had gone to the Academy, the place he should be around midday but was instead stopped by the receptionist, who both didn't recognise him, but seemed different to how he usually acted when Lanyon always saw him. And just as Lucan was about to contest Kirk, he realised something. He was... scared of someone? Had he ever felt scared of someone before? Even when facing an opponent stronger than him, he never felt scared. Lucan simply had a will to survive and so ran or fought accordingly in the face of that opponent. But he had never felt scared. At least when he had felt scared he only felt it when he was a child. Yet, this didn't feel like his own fright at all either. It was almost as if the very soul inside of him was scared of this being. It then hit him. Igo had always told him of a real man more akin to the bogeyman than anyone in the entire world, even over Obelisk: "Gods, much like ourselves and Alandriel, Lucan, were tiered into three sections. First, there were the lesser gods, whose souls almost all of humanity holds in our hearts. Then, there were the upper and royal gods. These gods' souls lay only among a certain few of humanity’s patrons such as those in the platinum ranks of the Guild. The royal gods of this section also held control over the primal elements of the world, such as light and dark, order and chaos, life and death. But even above that was the elder gods. There were two gods, Galem and Gaia, who both died in the cataclysm, who occupied this tier. And these gods held sway over space and time itself, respectively. Yet another god was born, a god who was and not a god all at the same time. A god born out of the greatest fears and evils of all the royal and elder gods. This thing who could hardly be referred to as a god was simply called Warlock, and held power of the-
"Sinful Arts: Humility" Kirk needn't speak loud to confirm Lucan's suspicions. Kirk was the wielder of the Arts of the god of sin, Warlock. When the bogeyman supposedly got angry, not a single mortal, not even a god in fact could harm him because of a simple reason. All living, conscious beings are scared of something. All of them have wants and needs. All of them will sin and do evil once in their life to obtain those wants and needs. And so, in front of all their evil deeds, the greatest men will crumble. Lucan, in face of all of his pride, fell to his knees and could only look at the impossibly powerful man in front of him in awe. "Now that you have lost a bit of your pride, let's continue. Who are you and why are you here?"
"I... am- Lu- ...can dus... dus-" the words were being wrenched from Lucan's mind, chattering and shivering out of his mouth, while he attempted futilely to resist this man's control. Tears began to well up in the corner of his eyes, bloodshot from the strain that the man in front of him was subjecting himself to.
"Never mind that. I've grasped who you are." at the uttering of that sentence, the un-moving grip on Lucan ceased to exist, and he collapsed to the floor, struggling to find a scrap of breath for his spasming body begging for help after attempting to refuse that man's subjugation, or rather, violation, of Lucan's feeble mind and strength, "You want to kill that boy. I'll accept it, however, only once. And bring harm to any of the others, you shall feel my wrath." Kirk finished, leaving Lucan to ponder how what he had just experienced wasn't even his full anger.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
"Another thing." Kirk began to add, just as Lucan began to relax again, before tensing up once more, "Soon you will face a man so lacking in any sin or earthly desire at all, that even your immovable pride wouldn't be able to comprehend that a thing like that exists. It will learn from the sins of this world, and laugh in the face of them, allowing itself to be forged into the antithesis of sin itself. Even I wouldn't even be able to touch it. You must teach it everything you know, so that it would be able to realise how flawed your way of thinking truly is. Then, it will learn to be diligent and act properly from the definition of sloth, after forcing even a man of that indolence to act in the face of evil. And after all that, he will come to know a man overcome by his own anger, and subject him to the ultimate humiliation; by learning to pity him. What I am trying to say is that, please, do not change. Just not yet, anyways. Goodbye, Lucan. I'm sorry for what is about to come."
Lucan was left on his knees in the reception, while the receptionist calmly sat back down at his desk, lay his head down, and fell asleep immediately. Despite his confusion on what Kirk was going on about, Lucan had a job to do and even though he had met an obstacle so overwhelmingly powerful he was stopped in his tracks, nothing could stop him now, after that obstacle allowed him to proceed. Sluggish, Lucan dragged himself through the empty corridors of the Academy, through the empty gardens that littered the middle of the complex, past each classroom with some lecturers and porcelains noticing him, until he reached the back of the Academy, a sign engraved in an opaque wooden door reading 'Class 1-A'. Lucan didn't care if he made a mess anymore, either. He was out on a hunt for blood. While coalescing his strength after the confrontation with Kirk, Lucan swiftly barged through the doors, opening up to a large lecture hall, almost identical to the lecture hall of Class 1-B except obviously more well-kept and fancy. It seemed the lecturer was in the middle of a demonstration, and by the scribbles on the wall, Lucan deduced that it was likely to do with Forceful Art Elicitation, or FAE for short. A student was in the middle of chanting an Art while concentrating on the lecturer, also a tell-tale sign of FAE being taught. The students in their seats suddenly turned from looking at the demonstration to the suspicious and ragged man who just walked in, confused at who he was and what he intended to do. The student who was trying to attempt FAE stopped as his eyes turned into daggers pointing directly at the man who walked in. The lecturer, noticing both the sound of someone walking in and the fact their student's attention shifted so quickly, whipped around and was met with the culprit.
"Who are you?" Victor, the lecturer, demanded, who, faster than the normal eye could see, drew a gun and aimed it directly at the man's head who had just walked in. All the lecturers in the Academy knew each other, and only other lecturers visited other classes, therefore not only was it strange that a man Victor didn't recognise walked in, but concerning that he had not been questioned while walking to his destination. Only one thing could explain that. This man was dangerous.
"You don't need to know. I just need to borrow someone in your class, Victor," a chilling voice broke the room's tension, even frightening Victor as well as the rest of the porcelains, especially a certain porcelain in the back of the class who was told many a time not only about a certain man's appearance, but their voice as well.
"I won't be letting you take one of my porcelains if you do not identify yourself now!" Had Victor not recognised Lucan? The usual voice, attitude and appearance might be different but to not recognise a good friend's face? Did Lucan really look that different when he was Lanyon compared to now? If that's true, what on Alium do I look like?! thought Lucan, with a tone that could be almost called concerned. "Answer now, or face the consequences!"
"Don't worry, it's not like they're gonna be hurt that ba-"
A gunshot and a slice. Two sounds occurred almost simultaneously, only mere milliseconds apart. A face of shock spread across the poor lecturer's voice, as the strange man in front of him was now in a crouched combat position, his arm that wielded a large decorated dagger, erect in the air while slicing through it. Then, the sound of two metal objects falling echoed around the hall, as the entire room's attention was focused on the floor, where a red-hot metal bullet lay, cut cleanly in half, the pieces at least a metre away from each other. Screams and shouts began to erupt from the porcelains, as realisation spread across each and every one of their expressions. This man was the Rogue. And Lucan thought Victor now realised that as well.
"I thought you would have better judgement than that, Victor. Let me be, please."
"Stop what you're doing! And how do you know my name?!" Victor screamed, his voice beginning to sound panicked.
"A shame, you could have just let me take my porcelain and go," the Rogue tutted, sending shivers down the porcelains' spines, especially the one who knew he was the one to be taken. "I-"
"Hunter Art: Prey Paralysis!" an unfortunate porcelain shouted, taking action from the crowd. The porcelain was an older girl compared to her comrades, and seemed to be somewhat of a leader among the group, taking charge even over the lecturer at that. It seemed to be an effect-based Art that needed a visible target to be seen, hence her concentration at Lucan so intense that you'd think she hated him. That Art was a part of the Hunter Node, quite a rare set of Arts to have, usually based around eliminating a target with ease or simply surviving in harsh conditions. Very remarkable indeed. Lucan also found himself to be completely frozen, with the exception of his head; paralysed, to be exact.
"Thank you, Alice. Now, lets-"
"Huh. You really didn't think this through much, did you?" the Rogue interrupted, completely still.
"What?" It was strange, not just to Victor but Alice too. Someone in this position would usually panic and try to escape with all their might, but this person was calm, even critiquing his opponents move as if he was the one winning!
"You were just learning about it too, you fool! You let your opponent know too much about your arsenal." Lucan grinned. Alice at that moment didn't understand what the strange man was talking about, but Victor immediately caught on. They were all in danger.
"Everyone! Run-"
"Too late, Victor. Hunter Art: Prey Paralysis." Forceful Art elicitation, or FAE as it is commonly referred to, is exactly as it sounds; a way to incite the Art of someone forcefully. However, forceful Art elicitation was a violent process. But first, there were prerequisites to using it: a piece of personal information to connect you to the subject such as a name, the Art in question's intricacies, and the god who used to hold sway over that set of Arts. When FAE occurs, you actually try to influence the God's dead soul inside of someone, hence the need for that person's personal information and a god's name, and then try to path into that Art through the pseudo-awakening of that god's soul, triggering an Art. For when one uses an Art, the gods' dead soul is roused and a certain part of it is used, and to help localise that part you use the Pathing technique. This also explains that Pathing isn't always needed, however, due to the fact that familiarity with the Node, the gods' dead soul, you can easily identify and only rouse certain parts of it. This is also the reason that Platinum ranked Guild Members use and are given code names, to make it improbable that an enemy on the battlefield would be able to use FAE on them through the use of a name by comrades. Yet, when FAE occurs, it is often described as a part of your soul being wrenched and violated before being returned to your body, making it incredibly painful for the victim. So, almost on queue, a scream erupted in the lecture hall.
Alice, the unfortunate girl, began to convulse and shout and plead for help from her friends, grasping and reaching at her body almost like trying to go inside of it and rip out whatever was causing the agony inside of her, until it all of a sudden she stopped, and she fell to the floor unconscious. Shame and guilt welled up inside of Victor, as the whole reason FAE was able to be used on the poor girl was because he called out her name, even when she was so brave. Everyone in the class except for a certain boy and Victor were confused that someone had just chanted an Art that seemingly didn't belong to him, and the one it did belong to, was now on the floor showing no sign of getting back up. In retaliation, the porcelains try to move. Quite a remarkable reaction. A regular person would scream or panic, but these porcelains rose to retaliate almost instantly. Well trained, indeed. Though, their quick thinking was useless now in this situation. Instead of moving, they were met with an indescribable resistance. They, just like the man who had come in beforehand, were now paralysed.
In addition to the normal effects of FAE, when used on an individual who uses chants, the power of that art is considerably heightened. This can be explained because instead of limiting the actual power of a part of a Node to specify an Art using Pathing, the whole god’s soul is used but only certain parts are activated. This means that the power of the art isn't limited to that area of the soul, but can draw upon the strength of other parts of the soul too, which also explains why chantless Arts are not only so much more powerful but don't change strength when used through FAE.
"Don't try to move, class, you might hurt yourself in the process. You're all stuck in place, and he's free to do whatever he wants to. The only useful thing we can do now is to scream."
"Now, don't say that, Victor, not all of the class is paralysed. Plus, I don't recommend screaming, if I were you." Lucan said in a stone cold voice, pointing up to a shaking white-haired boy in the back, while smiling at Victor with intense malice. The class at that moment, realised that the Rogue was now free of the paralysis too. The boy in the back of the class could hardly move from where he stood, hoping to get in at least one scream for help before he was killed. "Isn't that right, S-u-n?"
Everyone could only watch still in horror, as the Rogue strolled calmly up to Sun, hung his arm over his shoulders, and coerced him over to the entrance to the lecture hall. Victor tried to plead with the man to let the boy go, attempting to appeal to a sense of empathy that was non-existent in the man he was dealing with. It was all Victor could do. Under no circumstances could he let a porcelain of his be harmed by a man who he had all right to believe was the Rogue himself.
"Rogue! Listen to me, for Elase's sake! Don't you dare try anything more! You god damned fool! Just listen to me! Why are you doing this? If you dare harm him, I swear I'll... Just, WHY?!" The position Victor was in could be called humorous. His entire body was paralysed and in a position ready to run towards the crowd of porcelains, but his head was thrashing around savagely, his eyes a wild frenzy of colours as they darted around in anger. If you didn't know any better, you would think the man was mad, mistakenly thinking that they could see bubbles frothing at his mouth like a wild dog, barking and thrashing at everything that moved. And his ramblings that the Rogue had begun to ignore long ago, started to devolve into complete insanity. "I'll kill you, Rogue! I'll swear, I will kill you! For the betterment of the world, I will kill you! Even if no one will, I'll do it! On my family name, I will kill you! For Alium! For Alandriel! For Good and everything righteous in this world, I-"
"Will you just stop going on and screaming nonsense like that! God, you're annoying..." It was incredibly strange not just for his class, but his good friend Lanyon, that a usually calm and collected man like Victor was more akin to a wild beast at this moment rather than a real human being. His shaking head had settled, allowing for his face to be seen more easily. Victor's eyes had become bloodshot, tears and sweat and spit covered his face, his face and mouth in a beastly snarl, muscles twitching and convulsing as they were barely being controlled. "Anyways, you guys are all frozen in place until that girl over there wakes up. So enjoy your stay!"
The Rogue went through the hall door, slamming it behind him, as another crazed scream erupted behind him before being muffled by the closing of the door. Sun could be said to be in shock. Sun couldn't truly process what was happening and what situation he truly was in. Simply an instinct deeply engraved in his body begging to be free of the man beside him and run. Just run. A voice so powerful inside of his head yelling for him to run drowned out anything else. Run.
A voice so loud and immense that it made Sun not even notice the fact that he had just been thrown through the wall of the Academy and into one the gardens in the middle of the complex. A few seconds later, pain came in like a flood and his sight caught up. He wanted to throw up, as the boy coated in a thick layer of brick-orange and grey dust grabbed at his stomach and lurched, and a large amount of yellow sick exploded from his mouth. Sun began to scream for help. For anyone to help him. There was a small crowd coming to help him from the corridor who were on break. Of course, it was about time now. Hopefully-
"Don't even think about screaming to anyone," death whispered into his ear. Obviously, he was still here. So why did Sun even contemplate both survival and a chance of someone helping him? It was so futile, anyone with a brain would realise that. Then why did he continue to beg? Beg just like the people his father tortured, the people he was forced to watch while he did so. Daniel wasn't even that stupid, so why did he beg? Why did Sun beg? His vision fell behind once again, but this time for a longer time, as the Rogue kicked up Sun's head, flipping him into the air, followed by a single kick to the stomach once more by his tormentor as he was catapulted across the garden once more.
What happened to the crowd who were going to help him then? Although Sun didn't hear it, the Rogue apparently threatened them into waiting by, even if they didn't stay quiet. The bigger the crowd, the more dangerous it would become for him to continue this one-sided fight, right? But contrary to reason, that was exactly what Lucan wanted. A crowd. A crowd to hear all the horrific deeds this boy and his father had done. It didn't matter who believed him. This was justice. Justice for Daniel. Justice for justice's sake.
And exactly as Lucan wanted, a crowd began to amass. People rushed to help their screaming fellows, curious porcelains wanting to know what was happening, or concerned lecturers or brave kids wanting to stop what was happening. Everyone in the Academy was there at that moment. It wasn't an especially large building, and an ear-splitting scream like the ones at the site of the beating travelled quickly in a building like the Academy.
"You killed him, didn't you? Tortured him until he begged to be killed, tortured to an inch of his life and brought back again to continue that same cruel cycle for over three weeks. Right? RIGHT?!" the Rogue shouted in Sun's face, broken and bleeding, tears and streams of red running down his face.
"Y-yes I... I- I did. Pleas-e... ju-" the usually prideful and beautiful Sun had been reduced to a sobbing and bloodied mess on the floor, his pretty face ruined and desecrated, and the rest of his body in no shape fit for living.
"Who did you do that to!? Who did you dare do that to! Tell us! Tell us all who you did those horrid things to, Sun!"
"D-daniel... -Rai... -ge, geki!" bawled Sun, tears streaming down his face like waterfalls and faster than ever. Not many people recognised the first name of Daniel, with the exception of those in the boy's class, who were already gasping, a poor little girl among them who was crying her eyes and feebly trying to catch them with the backs of her hands. Raigeki, on the other hand, was a surname not easily forgotten. The whole Academy knew the surname Raigeki if not from David Raigeki, but most definitely from where it was mentioned in the first bout of combat practice, where he defeated and humiliated Esther, who was among the rest of Class 1-A, hunched up and paralysed in their lecture hall.
"What did you do then, what did you do!?" The onslaught had no end to it in sight. Question after question, pained answer after answer, brutal beating after beating; some even tried to step in at some point, but were stopped either by a lecturer who knew they had no chance against their opponents or by the Rogue himself, defeating them during his one-sided massacre or intimidating enough to stand down.
"W-e tor-tortured him! We to...ok off limb by limb, nail- by... nail, eye by eye un-til..." Sun moaned, his porcelain white hair now a deep crimson red, "-we h..ad to- get... -rid of... him!"
"How disgusting." the Rogue stated, a distinct speck of empathy lining his voice. But it was clear for whom the empathy was for. And it was certainly not for the boy in front of him. The dagger the rogue had been holstering for the larger part of this fight now lay in the man's hand, ready to slice the boy in front of him to bits, if this savage beating wasn't enough already. In spite of the anticipation at the beating getting worse, the stabbings and slashes weren't overly dramatic. They hit no vital points on the boy's body and better yet, seemed insignificant compared to what he was already doing. The attack's dagger only added to the massive pile of pain resting on his back, ready to break the boy's spine. A macabre curiosity filled everyone watching. A desperate curiosity wondering when the boy would finally break and either die or suffer a worse fate.
That curiosity however was stopped short when the crowd suddenly realised nothing had happened in a while now. Just the rogue looming over a dead-still Sun, twitching in agony.
"Truly disgusting. Pathetic even." it was as clear as the sun blaring over the garden. Sincere remorse coated his voice, some for the boy in front of him and another for the other victim of this ordeal. At long last, it seemed the Rogue had stopped, and the situation was dire. The boy in front of him was on the floor almost motionless, leaking massive amounts of blood although at a slow pace. The pool mainly originated from a gash at his tail-bone which went deeper than the rest of the shallow cuts inflicted by the Rogue. If Sun didn't get aid or help quickly after this, he may suffer permanent consequences, and possibly even death.
"Sun, I hope you send my regards to your father," At this point the boy could no longer respond or even give a grunt, leaving the Rogue awkwardly staring down upon the mess he has caused, as if surprised he went that far in the first place. "Goodbye."
Everyone was stuck staring at Sun, collapsed and face down in the centre of the garden opening, as the perpetrator simply walked away, neither alarmed nor slow, as if it was a regular day.