“LIA!”
A desperate scream fills the air as sixteen men swiftly surround a young lady. One of them knocks her unconscious with a strike to the back of her neck with the pommel of their blade. The senior guard clenches his jaw as he watches the squad of assailants disappear into the night with Lia’s unconscious body.
“DAMMIT!”
Clutching the cut on his side, the senior guard steps back against the gate beside his brother. Ignoring the gash on his thigh, the junior guard steadies his stance and braces for another wave of attacks. With heavy breaths, they readjust their grips on their blades, glaring intently at the two Half-Moons as the sound of clashing blades ring in the distance.
“Brother…” The junior guard says as he lifts his heels. “Your erotic novels… It was me.”
“As if I didn’t know.” The senior guard mirrors his brother’s actions. "Shut up and focus..."
“Your present that year… I used the money from selling them to buy it.”
They each slide one foot forwards, touching backs as they mirror each other.
“...It’s fine. I stole them from Father.”
“The girls’ presents as well…”
A dense layer of aura coats their blades as they lift it above their heads, pointing the tip of the blade at a slight angle towards the ground.
“...”
Listening to the sound of skirmishes unfolding across the Academy grounds, the two Half-Moons begin to feel uneasy. They focus their eyes at the two guards and the peculiar stance that had been giving them trouble since the start of the conflict.
“Something's off...” One of the Half-Moons whispers as he tightens his grip on his blades. “There’s too much commotion for mere guards...”
The other figure in black nods before lifting his black blades to form a cross before him. Just as he does, a crimson aura descends upon the Academy grounds. The aura expands rapidly before stopping just beyond the Academy walls.
“Wrap it up.” The other Half-Moon says as he watches the aura coalesce into a thick layer of blood, separating the Academy from the rest of New Hope City. “She’s here.”
The Half-Moons lift their heels in unison before blurring, blending into the shadows. Their figures silently wisps forwards like smoke, blades crossed and ready to draw blood. Upon entering striking range, their blades tear through the air, aiming for the gap between the guards’ blades.
Stifled by the sudden bloodthirsty aura, both guards struggle as they bend their knees, leaning backwards to avoid the attack. As the four black blades pierce through empty air, the guards lift their hindfoot and kick off against one another, sending both men gliding in a crescent towards the sides of the two Half-Moons. Borrowing the momentum from their evasive maneuver, one guard lifts his blade while the other lowers it. In unison, they strike in opposite directions at the two assailants.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Shit!
The impairment from the crippling aura causes them to strike empty air. Sensing a second attack, both guards try to regain their footing to block the strike. Moving slower than usual, their eyes widen as four steel tips tear through the air towards their necks.
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Within a dark chamber barely lit by two dim lanterns, a pair of sharp eyes snap open upon hearing the commotion above.
“It seems the brat was right.” The owner of the blade-like eyes rises to his feet. “Mo.”
“Patience, old friend.” Headmaster Mo calmly gestures for the man to stay seated. “The tiger does not bare its fangs at the rat.”
“Tiger? Old man, you’ve really gone senile. I think what you meant to say was ‘dragon’.”
“It doesn’t have the same ring.” Headmaster Mo chuckles as he rolls up his sleeves. “Besides, you lost that title when he came into the picture.”
“Bah!”
The man reluctantly sits back down, leaning against the wall behind him. He turns towards one of the lanterns, staring at the fire flickering within as he strokes his patchy beard with one hand while tapping his thigh rhythmically with the other. As the sound of clashing steel rings in his ear, he grows increasingly annoyed at the fact that he must sit aside and do nothing.
“You sure they’ll be fine?” He asks, his tone suddenly aggravated.
“Since when do you stress the minor details?” Headmaster Mo tries to ease his friend’s temper. “The guards on duty are more than capable of holding out until reinforcement arrives.”
“If Yi ends up hogging all the fun, I’m holding you accountable.” The man grumbles before closing his eyes to calm the rage in his heart.
“Everything is playing out how he predicted, so have some faith.” Headmaster Mo sighs, knowing it must be difficult for his old friend to sit idly by whilst the subject of his rage runs rampant above. “Your turn will come.”
As if on cue, a stifling aura sweeps across Academy grounds, causing the man’s eyes to snap open once more. A smile creeps across his face as he rises to his feet, making his way across the chamber. He pushes the stone gates open with ease.
“Mo.” Upon stepping past the gate, he turns back to Headmaster Mo.
“Go quell your rage. Leave it to me.” Headmaster Mo replies as he places both palms onto the stone pillar before him. “I owe you one, old friend. But please, mind the facilities if you can.”
“No promises, but let's call it even for the last favor.”
With that, he pushes the gates close and disappears into the night.
“The storm is, indeed, upon us...” Headmaster Mo sighs as he infuses aura into the stone pillar. “Welcome back to this tumultuous world, old friend.”
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Above ground, the massive crimson dome draws the attention of residents all across the southern districts of Lake Unity. As the commotion grows, more and more people step to the streets to witness the never before seen spectacle. Their voices fill the air, chatting casually as if they were witnessing some sort of special event. Amongst the sea of spectators, not a single one entertained the thought of the Academy being under attack.
Within the commotion, a young man steps past the crowd. His dark hair, parting in the middle, sweeps behind his ears before meeting above the back of his head. A golden band holds the hair together in a bun, allowing the rest of his hair to rest straight down his back. A fan adorned with the symbols of the four great nations of the grand continent covers the lower half of his face, drawing attention to his sharp eyes.
Two men step through the crowd behind him, bowing slightly to avoid drawing unwanted attention.
“Chancellor, the plants have succeeded in steering the conversations.”
“Good.” The Chancellor’s eyes curve into a slight crescent, his smile hidden behind the fan. “Is everyone in place?”
“On your command, Chancellor.”
The fan suddenly folds inwards, collapsing into a thin line at the center of the Chancellor’s sharp gaze. With all eyes distracted by the crimson dome, he tucks the fan into his sash as he steps forwards.
“The rats have entered the tiger’s den.” His eyes suddenly glow as he extends his palms onto the Academy walls just beyond the crimson dome. “Fire the flares.”