???, ???: 936, March 16th, Friday, 12:30 AM.
Sovereign stood in the middle of his room—the silver rays of the moonlight illuminated its interior through the windows. He kept the place well organized, with a single bed in the corner and a wooden desk beside it—like his mother’s bedroom, his too was decorated with flower pots everywhere. On top of the bed lied an open thick book filled with pictures and documents—the open pages displayed photos of most members of Bloodhound, Yeon, Jacob and Sebastian—with quick descriptions below them.
A batch of loose pages were spread all over the bed; some of them containing detailed information on the order of knights, Atalanta, Loki and their leader... King. The majority of the pages however, went on about describing two knights in specific. One of them was Ninigi, who’s documents were mostly marked in red with small warnings filling the pages—the word ‘The champion’ was written among the warnings. The second knight had no name registered, and was addressed in the papers with many different titles— ‘the exile’ and ‘champion’ among them.
All the records kept a consistent handwriting style, having being manually written by Sovereign himself over the course of years. His body trembled as he struggled to maintain his balance, groaning in pain at the hefty pressure he felt by simply standing on his feet.
He carried a broken sword in his left hand—the blade glowing faintly with an azure light. His black glove melted at contact with the grip of the sword, revealing his demonic hand underneath—the crimson veins running through his fissured exoskeleton flashed like a warning alarm.
“Gladean knights...” he managed to groan between breathes. “Atalanta, Loki, King, Ninigi...” he began to pronounce every name in his documents and read their descriptions by memory.
“Ugh...!” a piercing pain running through his body threatened to drop him to his knees, but he was able to resist and remain on his feet. “Sebastian, Jacob, Lucy, Claire...” the crimson veins in his hand began to fade slowly—his breath became heavier and quivered with more intensity.
“Just a bit longer...” he groaned in pain, his rough and distorted voice almost unrecognizable. “Remember... remember...” were his last words before lifting the broken sword in the air—placing it mere inches away from his heart.
Deadlands, Miles away from Heildin’s Capital: 936, March 16th, Friday, 12:30 AM.
Atalanta crushed the specters’ offensive charge with her glaive, blocking Sebastian’s attacks while fending off the aggressive horde of demons. The army of gladean knights deployed to assist her, faltered under the pressure as their numbers slowly died down—forced to fall back and surrender ground to the specters.
Deflecting the major’s giant sword with a swing of her weapon, Atalanta slashed at Sebastian’s right leg with her blade—bringing him down on one knee—and continued her assault with a powerful spinning kick to the face—launching the major a great distance away.
Spinning her glaive in one hand, Atalanta transformed her weapon into an electrified spinning wheel—cutting down the incoming specters like a knife through butter. The Golden Lightning broke into a sprint towards Sebastian—who was held back by a pair of gladean knights after recovering from her attack.
The major faced off the knights on his own, the pair flanking him from both sides. They coordinated their attack to slash at Sebastian with their blades at the same time, but the major stopped their assault with a spin attack of his giant sword—staggering both knights who recoiled backwards at the impact.
Unholstering his shotgun, Sebastian brought down one of his opponents with a well-placed shot to the chest—the crimson slug piercing its target and ending his life. The second knight used the opportunity to slash at Sebastian’s neck from behind, but the major was able to turn just in time to block the attack with his sword—burying the blade on the ground in a vertical position. Sticking his arm out, Sebastian pulled the trigger on his shotgun—piercing the knight’s chest and putting an end to the fight.
With a trail of azure lightning chasing behind her, Atalanta sprinted towards the distracted Sebastian with her spinning glaive in hand. The major finished off his last opponent and turned to face The Golden Lightning, who sprinted at him with inhuman speed—Pulling his sword from the ground and resting its blade on his shoulder.
Nearing her target, Atalanta leaped forward and swung her glaive vertically against the major—who blocked the attack with his sword. Both combatants remained in a lock while pushing against each other, going back and forth as neither ceased their offensive.
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“Ha-ha...” Sebastian chuckled, putting pressure on his blade with his arm—fighting Atalanta’s glaive against his sword. “Sorry for this,” he apologized with a smile.
The major stuck his arm out with his shotgun aimed at The Golden Lightning’s mask, discharging a powerful burst of crimson shells at point blank distance—the earsplitting sounds of the firearm thundered across the region. Lowering his arm to check on his opponent, the major’s eyes opened wide in shock at the sight of the knight before him.
Atalanta held her hand balled into a fist in front of her face, opening her palm to reveal the shattered crimson shells as gravity forced them to the ground—having caught the projectiles with her hand before they caused her any damage.
“Oh...” the major reacted in awe—his jaw slightly open. “Well, I didn’t expect that...”
Responding with a strong frontal kick against Sebastian’s chest—hurling him away—Atalanta chased after her opponent with immeasurable speed, catching up with the flying major and passing by him like a speeding vehicle on the road. Planting her feet on the ground to stop her advance, Atalanta thrusted her glaive forward—piercing Sebastian’s shoulder from behind, and finishing off her assault by slamming his back against the ground—leaving a small crater under him.
“Give up,” The Golden Lightning demanded with a calm voice, her expression concealed behind the mask. “You don’t stand a chance against me or the order.”
“Why not kill me?” Sebastian asked—a smile filled with physical pain plastered in his face. “Aren’t you a gladean knight?”
“Humans are not to be harmed, but protected.” she placed her blade on the major’s neck—just barely scratching his skin. “I’m giving you a chance to leave... I won’t be taking your life unless your transformation is complete.” she slowly pulled back her weapon, taking a relaxed stance and backing away from the major. “But if I see you threatening the safety of the people again... I will not be so generous.”
Blood spewed from Sebastian’s mouth as he coughed lightly—baring his teeth with a colorful smile. “Thanks...” he said with a chuckle. “I might just take that offer...”
A powerful earthquake suddenly shook the entire region, putting an unexpected halt to the battle as the specters froze in place—like statues that decorated the unsettling atmosphere of the Deadlands. To Atalanta’s shock, the gladean knights stopped their offensive as well—dropping their weapons with an unnerving emptiness in their eyes, as if something had suddenly taken over them.
“What’s happening!” she looked around for any sort of answer.
As the knight remained distracted, Sebastian took the opportunity to retreat further into the Deadlands—disappearing within the thick red fog. All specters collapsed to the ground, their crimson energy veins shutting off instantly. The army of gladean knights quickly followed—dropping to their knees and dissipating into crimson embers like the rest of the demons.
A massive wall of similar appearance to the specters rose from the depths of the region—large glowing crimson veins running through it. The colossal structure separated the Deadlands from the outside world, concluding its expansion as the tremor seized.
Atalanta attempted to reach one of her fallen comrades, unable to explain the bizarre events that just unfolded in front of her. “Why would they vanish like this?” she asked to herself—watching on her knees as the knight joined the eerie fog. Both armies of specters and gladean knights crumbled in the blink of an eye in front of her—their embers flew across the red fog, guided by a mysterious force towards the center of the Deadlands.
???, ???: 936, March 16th, Friday, 1:00 AM.
Sovereign’s body lied flat on the floor, the broken sword with a glowing azure blade was buried deep in his chest. His arms spread; he kept his gaze on the ceiling as images of a strange memory flashed right before his eyes.
He was brimming with questions at the sight before him, confident that he had never visited such a place before—yet there he was, running with an incredible speed through the dirt path of a dense forest. He followed the distant screams of a girl, accompanied by a group of specters after the same target.
Her screams became louder and louder, and a feeling of excitement filled his chest with every cry of the girl. His vision suddenly dropped to the floor however, and he was forced to turn towards the sky—a tall man with a strong body covered the moon in the sky above, his glowing crimson eyes looking down on him.
The vision ended with his head being crushed under the man’s boot. It all felt like a dream, but instead of waking up, he found himself in a different perspective—in the same forest, hearing the same cries of the same girl. Using his large claws, he climbed into the tall trees and hopped from one to the other—spotting the fleeing child down below. Dropping from above to face his victim, he snapped his head towards the girl as she attempted to cover herself in leaves and broken branches—her back lying against a tree.
Tears rolled down her perturbed muddy face, weeping unconsolably at his presence. He took a single step towards her, and then another, slowly approaching the crying girl—taking his time as to not end his fun too soon.
Sovereign suddenly snapped out of the strange vision, returning to his room. “Specter... Specter...” he began to repeat to himself, grasping for air at every word. “I am...” he stopped suddenly as his mind entered into a state of nothingness.
His body began to fade into embers, like a specter whose core has just been shattered into pieces. Sovereign’s breath slowed down with every passing second—his empty gaze fixed on the ceiling as he patiently waited to be vanished from existence. Unable to keep himself awake any longer, he gently closed his eyes and allowed his consciousness to fade alongside his physical body.
“A god...”
END OF CHAPTER