I feel their lives being purged from my world as I sit in this broken throne... it is all so vivid to me, like I found myself traveling back in time. I see the horrified faces of the millions scattered in the farthest corners of the world, I hear their cries and prays to the goddess, I smell the blood tainting their homes as my specters shower in it.
I could easily dismiss all of it as another dream of mine, soon to be awake and continue with my life like nothing happened, but I know exactly what this is. It’s a memory, one that will be erased from the depths of my mind once I open my eyes. I am changing, or perhaps already have... I’ve forgotten most of my previous lives, and even recent events have slipped my mind in multiple occasions.
As a blessing, I will no longer have to live with the truth anymore. As a curse, I will eventually be reminded of it all, but by then... I’d have no need to forget.
If only she can draw her spectral gear’s full power... then maybe there’s still a place for me in this world. I owe you so much after what I did; I will pay you back for everything one day, but for now... you are the only hope I have. Regardless of the outcome, I would have redeemed myself once this is over. Not in the eyes of the world... maybe not even hers, but at least my own.
Northen Region of the Deadlands, Abandoned Cerberus Outpost: 936, April 9th, Monday, 3:00 PM.
The assassin’s back hit the scorched earth with great magnitude, but her opponent’s assault did not stop once she hit the ground. Heildin’s eldest princess—Eutychia, grabbed Bianca by the arm and lifted her in the air—letting go of her arm and catapulting the assassin away with a spinning kick to the abdomen.
Both fighters faced each other under the crimson sky of the Deadlands, with the scorched earth at their feet and the red fog traveling across the region through the air—an intense temperature heating up the area.
The black armored princess observed her adversary crash back down to the earth, cutting the distance between them with a large jump—landing on top of Bianca. “You are strong for a human, but stand no chance against me.” she said. “I suggest you drop your weapons... and fast.”
Sensing an approaching threat from behind her, Eutychia turned around in a quick motion to intercept Maulik—Ninigi’s fourth disciple, who’s fist collided with the plate on her chest before she could even react to his presence.
“Agh!” the impact forced Eutychia to stumble a few steps back—Bianca rolled out of the way, and backed into safety.
Giving the princess no time to react, Maulik delivered a powerful punch to the gut and successfully staggered his opponent. Concluding his three-piece assault combination, the disciple jumped vertically in the air and placed his legs at the front—surprising Eutychia with a violent barrage of bicycle kicks to the face.
The black knight was forced to retreat continuously as the hybrid’s rapid sequence of kicks pushed her further back, plummeting to the ground on her back with the last blow. She laid on the dirt for a second, watching Maulik approach furrowed brows—and angry, but curious stare.
“What is the princess of Heildin doing in the Deadlands?” he asked. “Did King send you here?”
“King? You mean my father?” the armor-clad princess picked herself back up—her glare fixed on the hybrid knight. “No, but I don’t need to explain anything to you.” placing her hand on the grip of her sword—safeguarded on its scabbard in her lower back, Eutychia unsheathed her weapon and prepared to engage her opponent. “I only need you out of my way.”
Northern Region of the Deadlands, Desolated Plains: 936, April 9th, Monday, 3:00 PM.
“We are lost...” Scott lamented—dropping his shoulders.
“Impossible, we were given the exact coordinates of her location.” Eric crossed his arms with a frown.
Tori’s lips where curved with a smile, but her eyes remained filled with concern. “Maybe... we should check with the boss again?” she suggested.
Gaspard shook his head with the expected composure of a butler from the Albury’s. “I am afraid that’s not possible, miss Endel.” he replied. “We lost contact with Mr. Rhys exactly half an hour ago.”
“Hmm...” Scott hummed while rubbing his chin. “Eric, do you still have that deck from Cards O’s we bought during our vacation?”
Eric raised an eyebrow, “I do, why?”
“Give it to me,” Scott said with a confident smile. “I have an idea.”
Reluctantly, Eric took his deck of cards—kept safely inside a leather pouch attached to his belt, and handed it to Scott. “You better not do anything to them...”
“Trust me,” Scott reassured him. “Now, let’s see...” he took one card from the pouch and placed it on the floor—laying the card in a vertical position in between a small fissure on the ground.
Naturally, the heat of the Deadlands ignited the small piece of cartoon into a quick flame that dissipated just as fast as it ignited—calcinating the card into a tiny pile of ashes.
“...”
“...”
“...”
Gaspard kept warm smile.
Bloodhound observed in silence, their eyes trailing the gray pile of dust being carried away by the wind across the red fog.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
“Have you made peace with the goddess yet?” Eric placed one hand on his sword—sheathed inside the scabbard on his hip.
“Wait! We should follow the wind!” he claimed, pumping his fist.
“Have you made peace with the goddess yet?” the noble approached slowly.
“Bring it on then,” Scott took the rifle from his back and squared up—ready for a fight.
Tori rushed in between them—separating the pair at arm’s-length, an unusual angry expression enveloping her face. “Guys, stop fighting! The lieutenant is in danger, we have to find her fast!”
Keeping his senses sharp, Gaspard’s ears caught the clashing sounds of a blade somewhere not too far from their position, turning his gaze to inspect the noise raging within the fog. Unable to spot anything nearby, the butler simply stared at the distance while waiting for further signs to follow.
“Did you see something, Gaspard?” Eric asked.
“I believe I’ve heard fighting somewhere in this direction, young master.” the butler pointed with his eyes.
The group glanced at each other before nodding in agreement, determined to follow any lead that would guide them towards the lieutenant. Bloodhound continued their trek across the region, following Gaspard’s instincts through the thick red fog of the Deadlands.
Northern Region of the Deadlands, Abandoned Cerberus Outpost: 936, April 9th, Monday, 3:00 PM.
Inside a small room of the outpost, Claire squirmed about in a desperate attempt to free herself from her restrains. Taking no chances, Maulik hogtied the lieutenant with her arms and legs together behind her back—laying her on the floor in a dark corner before leaving to assist Bianca against Eutychia.
The room was a total mess, with rubble, papers and broken pieces of wood laying all around. In front of her was a window, looking into the outside with the red fog and the crimson sky of the Deadlands.
Her mouth sealed with tape, the lieutenant kept squirming on the concrete floor with all her strength—needless to say, her efforts yielded little to no results in furthering her goal. Noticing the rotten wooden door creak open with a slow push, Claire raised her eyebrows as she looked at the masked figure striding through the portal—scrunching them back down with a furious glare, accompanied by a low growl.
‘Stay put,’ the masked assassin wrote in her tiny white board. ‘I will relocate you somewhere else.’
Claire’s glare grew angrier, shooting daggers at Bianca from her eyes. As the assassin stepped in front to pick her up, looking in between her legs, through the window of the wall in front of her. The lieutenant spotted a blinking white light in the distance—like the reflection of the sun in a mirror.
A sudden burst in the wall in front of Bianca caused her to recoil backwards, and Claire to shut her eyes at the pieces of debris falling on her face. The assassin inspected the cause of the phenomenon, fixing her eyes on the small projectile stuck in the concrete.
“Ugh... what the hell...” a masculine voice groaned from behind.
Hastily turning towards the sound, the assassin came face to face with a blonde man placing a single foot on the edge of the window—attempting, but failing to make his way inside.
“...!” Claire’s eyebrows shut upwards at the presence of one of her companions, Eric Albury—wondering how he was able to find her location, and how he could’ve messed up the rescue so badly.
Realizing his cover was blown in an instant, the noble pulled back from the window and began a full sprint back into the depths of the Deadlands. In pursuit of the witness, Bianca leaped through the open window and landed outside on her feet—trailing Eric’s steps through the thick fog.
“Lieutenant!” a feminine voice surprised Claire.
Through the wooden door, Tori and Gaspard rushed their way inside the room—having worked a distraction to avoid confronting the assassin. Tori kneeled in front of the lieutenant with worried eyes, while Gaspard inspected the window to secure their escape route.
“Lieutenant, we found you!” she beamed with an open smile.
Claire nodded on the floor with a quick hum, sighing in relief through her nose.
“I’m so happy to see you safe! What should we do next?” the young medic asked.
Claire’s eyes opened wide desperately, squirming her body around on the floor.
“Oh right, I’m sorry...” Tori cut her restrains with a knife—freeing the lieutenant at last.
Standing back on her feet, Claire ripped the tape from her mouth and exhaled from her from release some stress. “Thank you, Tori, Gaspard.” she smiled.
“Don’t mention it!” Tori replied, handing Claire her earpiece.
The butler bowed with smile, “we were all worried about your well-being, young miss.”
Claire scanned the room for her spectral gear, aided by Tori and Gaspard. To her misfortune however, their whereabouts remained unknown to her as Maulik had hidden her pistols away. “What’s the situation outside?” she asked.
Tori and Gaspard explained the battle taking place just outside of the destroyed outpost, with Maulik facing off Eutychia in a clash that could be heard from their position. Devising a plan of escape, the trio left the room through the window in the direction of the flashing light within the fog—which Tori mentioned were Scott’s glasses lightning up in the distance.
“Of course they are...” Claire said—pinching the bridge of her nose.
Further away, in a desperate race to save his own life. Eric broke into a sprint in a straight line through the Deadlands, the assassin—who chased closely behind, kept her daggers to her side as she cut the distance between them.
“Tch!” the noble clicked his tongue as he ran out of breath. “No choice...” he planted his feet on the ground and turned to face the assassin while unsheathing his sword—taking a fighting position with the blade pointing forward.
Unintimidated by the noble’s stance, Bianca continued her rush towards him—stopping mere moments before Eric slashed at her with his sword.
“Stay away,” the noble ordered with a swing of his blade.
The assassin jumped back to avoid the cut, but proceeded to approach once again at the small opening. Anticipating her charge however, Eric already had his hand on the dagger in his leg—hurling the blade in a quick throw. Bianca deflected his attack with a swing of one of her daggers, responding with a frontal kick towards the noble’s face.
Eric ducked under the attack and stumbled to the side, taking a favorable position for his next move. “Hyaa!” he shouted—reeling his arm back, and slashing at Bianca in a horizontal swing.
Not fazed by his attack, the assassin responded with an inward spinning kick against Eric’s blade—which sprung his arm back in a violent clash. Using the inertia of her movement, Bianca continued her spin and planted her foot on the ground—turning her back against the noble. Thrusting her leg backwards, she delivered a powerful kick with the sole of her foot against Eric’s abdomen—forcefully knocking the air out of the noble’s lungs.
“Agh... kh...” the noble hit the dirt with his back—trying to breath once more.
Bianca approached him with both daggers ready to end the fight, but her stride was put to a sudden halt by the impact of a bullet—a powerful collision that broke the ground near her feet. Turning her head in a hurry, the assassin spotted the flashing light of Scott’s glasses in the distance—a second warning shot landing just in between her legs.
“Get ready for round two...” Eric stood back on his feet—having recovered his breath. He sliced the air with his sword and took his fighting stance, pointing the blade at Bianca. “You face Eric Albury, the eldest son and heir of house Albury.”
Bianca spun both daggers in her hands and took a fighting stance of her own, prepare to face the brave member of Bloodhound.
END OF CHAPTER