“I’m joining the order,” with harsh words, Atalanta stomped her way out of the small wooden cabin—stepping into the grassy fields showered by the gentle rays of the sun.
Ninigi chased after her with clumsy steps, holding himself steady with an improvised walking cane made of wood. Half of the man’s face was disfigured with cuts and burns, with one of his azure eyes covered in a bandage. He didn’t utter a single word, and simply walked behind her before coming to a stop at the entrance.
His unsteady steps were heard by the blonde knight, who’s ardent eyes scrunched with anger. “Don’t follow me,” she quickly turned to face him. Atalanta carried a wooden pole in her hand—a quarterstaff she used to train under the wounded knight. “This... this is all your fault, I shouldn’t have listened to you.” she looked at her weapon, before tossing it on the ground in front of her mentor.
Guiding his only working eye towards the green pasture, Ninigi took a quick glance at the staff before lifting his head once again—a hard to read expression due to the terrible condition of his face. He simply looked at the knight in complete silence, even after her protesting words against him.
“Nothing then...?” disappointment enveloped the blonde knight’s expression. “This is all you are,” the frustration inside of her grew with every word she uttered. “All those legends, books, stories we were told as kids...” she shook her head in disbelief, holding her forehead with one hand. “And the great champion turns out to be just... some guy that doesn’t even want to fight?”
Atalanta rambled about her life in the order, how every gladean knight is born with the purpose of becoming the order’s next champion—hearing stories about the hero who could defeat Specter himself, and save the word. An inspiration that moved her generation to strive for greater heights, to become humanities indestructible shield against the specters. Although his name was forgotten by history, Ninigi’s tale survived under the alias of ‘the champion,’ a figure created by the order to tell the story of humanity’s savior.
“You are no champion,” Atalanta said. “You are just a fraud and a coward, Ninigi...” she pointed at the quarterstaff laid on the ground in front of them. “A staff? I hung my sword for this wooden stick because I had faith in your teachings... what a letdown you turned out to be.” she shook her head while staring daggers at the wounded knight. “I should’ve listened to Loki when I had the chance... goodbye.” she turned her back towards her former mentor, and never looked back.
Southern Region of the Deadlands, Heildin’s Border: 936, April 9th, Monday, 4:30 PM.
“Maybe I deserve it...” the thought came to her mind—having being wounded to near death by the horned specter and the daemons. Atalanta’s vision was clouded in a complete shadow, her senses shut off one by one as life abandoned her body. “I turned a blind eye to everything... the innocents in Paradise... Loki’s destructive actions... and most of all... King and Theo.” a strange, but welcome sense of peace filled her mind as she drifted further into the afterlife. “I just wanted things... to be like they used to... to be me again... but that doesn’t matter now...”
“Wake up, Atalanta.” a familiar voice called out to her from within the dark void.
“Ninigi?” her mind wondered. “Am I... remembering things?”
“Atalanta,” his calm voice called once again.
The Golden Lightning’s azure eyes shot open with a loud gasp, gazing at the crimson sky above. She huffed heavily with quivering breaths, lying on her back at the bottom of the massive crater she created with her desperate attack.
Before her stood the same knight who saved her life so many years ago, when the order of knights fell at the hands of the horned specter. With his back turned towards her, she could only see his messy light brown hair tied into a high ponytail swaying with the wind—he wore his usual sleeveless blue flowing vest on top of a short sleeved white shirt. “Sorry for being late,” he looked back over his shoulder—offering a bright smile to his former student. “I’m glad to see you safe, Atalanta.”
Words failed her at that moment in time, staring in shock at the mentor she hadn’t seen in so many years. Just like before, Ninigi had transferred some of his energy into her divine pathway—supplying her body with enough power to keep itself alive, even after all the punishment she received during the battle.
“The border is close,” Ninigi said. “Leave the Deadlands and rest for now, alright?” he nodded with a warm smile. “I’ll take care of things here.”
“Ninigi, I’m—!” she was interrupted immediately, not noticing the open cut in her throat had been healed completely.
“I know, don’t worry about it.” he turned his gaze back at the horned specter—who’s severed body had recovered thanks to the Deadlands. “I was never mad at you or Loki... I know you well, and only wish the best for both of you.”
With a quick huff and a thankful nod, Atalanta scurried away from the battlefield with trudging steps—holding her abdomen with one hand while the other dangled on her side. She glanced back to take one last look at the knight, before making her exit from the area.
The horned specter kept its glowing crimson eyes fixed on the gladean knight, roaring at the crimson sky above with an intimidating scream that echoed throughout the region. The beast cracked its neck with a confident attitude, ready to engage the knight in combat. Clenching its hands into tight fists, the demon began its assault against Ninigi with a frontal assault.
“Let’s move out from this place,” the unconcerned knight said.
Thrusting its fist towards Ninigi’s face, the horned specter’s fist barely scratched his opponent’s cheek as he lazily stepped to the side. With a flashing movement of his hand, Ninigi took a hold of the demon’s arm and buried his fingers on its armor—shattering parts of the sturdy exoskeleton.
“We’ll fight up there,” the gladean knight tossed the beast away in a single motion, launching its strong body out of the crater—back to surface level.
As the monster flew in the air above ground, Ninigi leaped out of the crater like a torpedo launching against the specter—catching up to the soaring demon. The specter growled in surprise at the presence of the knight flying above it, thrusting its arm towards its foe in an attempted to catch him off guard.
Ninigi slapped the specter’s fist away with his palm, and responded with a strike of his own—burying his fist in the demon’s face—cracking some of its armor. The specter was brought back down to earth with a powerful impact that sunk its back on the ground, the gladean knight in the other, landed gracefully in the distance—bending his knees at collision with the ground, and springing back up on his feet.
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As the creature struggled to pick itself from the ground, a massive tremor suddenly struck the region—its large magnitude lifting the small rocks off the dirt. From the depths of the Deadlands, a black tower of spectral appearance rose into the crimson sky—the energy veins running through its body radiated fiercely with crimson energy.
“A belfry?” Ninigi wondered—gazing at the horde of specters rushing from inside the tower.
The trembling did not stop however, as a second belfry surfaced in the distance on the other side of the battlefield. Turning to face the second tower, Ninigi spotted the duo of colossal beasts stomping in his direction—two Wendigo’s had risen by the power of the belfries, their hungry crimson eyes glowing intensely inside their skulled head.
“...” Ninigi closed his eyes while slowly inhaling through his nose—keeping his shoulders and arms relaxed to his sides. Without letting go of the air inhaled, the gladean knight took a fighting position with open palms and curled fingers, one hand half extended in front of him, and the other close to his side near his ribs—his knees were slightly bent, and his eyes remained shut.
“Stop attacking yourself, Ninigi.” A concerned feminine voice resonated in his ears. As he held his breath with the approaching army of specters nearing by the second, the memory of a long-forgotten past suddenly filled his thoughts. “You are different...” the smile of the woman flashed through his focused mind. “You all are, every gladean knight is special to me, and that includes you too.”
“But I hate it, Gladea... I don’t want to fight.” he protested, as the revolting thought of violence upset him greatly. “I know I can’t be the one hiding behind the shield but...” his head dropped—keeping his gaze on the floor. “I’m not a violent person either... I don’t want to be violent.”
A faint sound of footsteps in front of him snapped Ninigi back into the Deadlands, and while his eyes remained closed, the sounds of the battlefield were enough for him to avoid the thrusting punch of the horned specter—tilting his head just enough to avoid the attack by an inch. He responded in kind with a strike of his own quickly after, shattering more of the specter’s sturdy face with a thrust of his curled fingers.
Continuing his assault, Ninigi struck at the horned specter’s face and torso with multiple rapid attacks of his hands—every impact breaking the armored body of the creature, like a needle concentrating in tiny vulnerable areas. The demon stumbled back with a twitching body after the knight seized in his relentless offensive—the broken parts of its exoskeleton crumbling down to the floor.
“You may not be a fighter,” the voice of the goddess echoed in his mind once again. “But is that love you have for every living creature in this world that makes you special,” she said. “The love that drags you back to the battlefield every time someone is in need.”
Ducking under the slicing claws of a specter, Ninigi responded with three lightning-fast attacks using the knuckles of his fingers against the creature’s face—striking at its nose, chin and eyes. As the specter stumbled backwards in a shock, the gladean knight finished off his opponent by gently placing his index and middle finger on the demon’s chest—stretched mere inches away from its core.
“Away with you.” he softly spoke, curling his two fingers into a fist, and thrusting against the specter’s core—turning its source of energy into dust, and propelling the creature away as it disappeared into embers in mid-flight.
The smile of the goddess flashed through his mind once again, like an encouraging mother, she looked at him with both pride and concern. “Allow your mind some rest, Ninigi.” her voice resonated in his mind. “You’ve been fighting yourself for too long, close your eyes and clear your thoughts for just a moment... breath deep and tell me... what do you see?”
One after the other, the specters vanished at the hands of Ninigi. Even with all their supernatural strength and speed, the gladean knight’s superior ability overshadowed any attempt of the demons to bring him down. A Wendigo leaped at him from the distance, forming a massive shadow over the knight—as its gigantic body covered the sky.
The Wendigo’s colossal body crashed against the scorched earth, or so it seemed at first. With a raised arm and two fingers against the creature’s chest, Ninigi balanced the specter in the air on top of his fingers. The shocked Wendigo pressed its hands and knees on the dirt in an attempt to stand back on its feet—unfortunately for the specter, its arms gave out in an instant as they vanished into embers—its life coming to an abrupt and unceremonious end.
“Go away... you can’t beat me.” Ninigi calmly warned the demons—his arm lifted in the air with an open palm, glowing with the azure light that took the Wendigo’s life.
“I promise you once this is all over, you won’t have to fight ever again.” The goddess’ told him with a smile, more memories running through his mind. “You are the gentlest knight I’ve ever met, Ninigi.” she giggled, covering her mouth while raising both eyebrows right after. “Oh, you don’t mind me saying that, right? Come on, give Gladea hug.”
“Gladea, I’m not a kid.” he accepted the embrace regardless.
The second Wendigo hit the ground hard after being struck down by the gladean knight, its broken skull’s shattered fragments peeling off its face as they crumbled into the ground. The colossal creature’s body dissipated into embers while twitching slightly, desperately trying to resist its own death—a helpless attempt that ended in its own demise.
The two belfries in the area collapsed simultaneously as what once was a crowded battlefield filled with demons, became a deserted wasteland of crimson ashes. While the horned specter remained standing, its body was severed beyond recognition—its arms dangling to its sides, and the horns on its head broken in half.
Ninigi stood in front of it with his eyes closed still, he kept firm while relaxing his posture—slowly exhaling the air he breathed before the battle began. Finally opening his eyes, the knight prepared to face the only remaining opponent in the field—unscathed and unconcerned about the outcome of the fight, as he already knew how things would end.
“I was the first gladean knight created by her hands,” his mind began to wonder. “Someone to fight back against the specters... I was a weapon, a tool to destroy the opposition... or so I believed.” his thoughts continued. “I never wanted to fight, so I didn’t... but the fact was, we all wanted the same thing... peace. They all fought and died because they hated fighting as much as I did, but I hid behind their corpses as I waited for peace to come... while they died protecting it.” he lamented. “I don’t want to fight... so I will.”
The horned specter charged Ninigi in a hopeless attempt to fight back against its opponent—ending with its ribs shattered, as the knight’s fingers broke through its armor like a hammer crashing through glass.
The specter recoiled in pain and growled softly while tumbling to its knees, its inert arms were dropped to its sides, with its dropped head motionless. Placing two fingers in-between the demon’s eyes, Ninigi lifted the creature’s head to look into its eyes before taking its life.
Cerberus HQ, Medical Room: 936, April 9th, Monday, 5:00 PM.
Sovereign lied in a hospital bed with his lower half covered by a blanket, he breathed through an oxygen mask and had multiple cables placed on his chest—all connected to a vital sign monitor next to the bed.
Arwen sat on a chair beside the slumbering CEO, talking through his phone. “Yes, he is stable at the moment.”
“Thank you, Jacob.” Yeon sighed with relief through the speaker. “What worsened his condition this time?”
“Well, where do I start...?” doubt enveloped Arwen’s eyes. “His health was already decaying, considerably faster than before too.” he began to report. “King sacrificed some of his knights and turned them into daemons, which put greater stress on his body, and then Ninigi showed up...”
“You should call all units for evacuation of the Deadlands, the region will be crowded with specters while Sovereign remains in that state.” Yeon suggested. “Was he harmed by Ninigi in any way?”
“I’m not sure... he fell unconscious right after informing me about it.” Jacob rubbed his forehead with his hand, exhaling loudly through his mouth. “I’ll inform Sebastian about the situation; Heretic should allow for a swift evacuation of the remaining units.”
“Call me if something happens to Sovereign, got it?”
“Of course, let’s just hope he wakes up soon...”
END OF CHAPTER