At some point, the line blurred between the stabbing of the long-dead corpses and my sense of rationality. It was a case of misplaced anger and sorrowful desperation.

I understood this. Still, I didn’t stop until the black-blooded blade was soaked in the red crimson. The knife was embedded into the throat of the original human that had thrown it into mine.

Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth, life for a life. If I had been human, I would have died. That was more of a reason to kill them all. Plus, they had seen too much.

Honestly, it was fuzzy.

In my disheveled state, I could only stack the bodies on top of each other and sit down next to them. The moon rose high in the sky, but the streets were empty. There would be no one coming across the morbid scene.

Like I cared at this point. Let them come. Let them see.

I waited in silence, listening to Eran’s footsteps draw closer, followed by the sound of him sprinting into a run toward me.

His calls were drowned out in my own thoughts, the worries that bound my body to the ground earlier reappearing once again.

“Asta! Oh my god, Asta! What happened?” The guard froze in horror at the gruesome scene in front of him, more importantly, at the sixteen-year-old covered in red.

Glancing up, my eyes blank and unnerving, beheld his horror-stricken eyes. He didn’t have to say it for me to understand. Eran was probably thinking that I was a monster, that no human should have been capable of each brutality.

After all, I was far from human.

I waited. Out of anyone, I understood this moment all too well. Soon enough, I would be banished, kicked, and chastised. If they had the drive to, I could be killed on the spot.

Useless, once more. Better off dead.

This is the reaction that I waited for. I would just leave or live as a nomad till everything settled. Besides, it was unlikely for them to keep someone as unstable as their forces. Honestly, I couldn’t will myself to care.

To my utter surprise, worried hands started checking over my face and arms. Eran’s concerned eyes scanned over the bloodied parts of my armor. He crouched down and reached to his belt to pull out a small rag.

A gentle wipe of my face cleaned the blood spatters that covered my cheek.

“Are you okay?” he asked, frantically looking between me and the dead bodies of the corpses.

Was I okay? Of course, I was. I was.

“…Yes,” I mumbled, not knowing what to say in this situation. Eran’s expression showed his doubt, he sighed at this.

“What happened?”

Here it was, I had messed up.

I was prepared to be kicked out for this. It was my first day and I slaughtered two humans that happened to show up at a bad time. Foolish of me. But none of that mattered anymore.

Originally the goals that I had set out to achieve, the exile, and returning to Hellion, and none of that mattered in the end. Like a pitiful human, I was wasting time in this life, having no goal to achieve in the end.

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So, what happened, he asked. What happened? So much. I peered over at the bodies, the faces of the men no longer looked recognizable. Their skin peeled to show bone, their ghostly faces bled to their limit, and the contortions of pain remained sketched in the canvas of death.

The truth was that I had let my anger get the best of me. It was that cursed violence that ran through my blackened veins. Demon blood that I no longer had a claim to.

“They tried to kill me to get into the estate. I ended up killing them.” I explained the obvious scene that lay before the guard.

He sighed, still seeming concerned. Except this time, he stood up, reaching a hand to help me up. A human extending his hand to a dragon, that he had no clue about.

I stared at that hand, at the human reaching down to help me. And I grabbed it, huffing as I stood up, blood still covering my armor.

Eran threw his arm over my shoulder, pulling me in closer, “Good job, kid. The orders were to kill intruders and you were able to take down two.”

Was he not concerned about the nature of my killings? I had painted a grim scene and the subjects were mutilated, as if they were on battlefields. Although the guard did look concerned, could it be that his concern was towards me? No part of me fathomed this possibility.

“Are you not mad?” I questioned, on edge from the concern that I was not used to receiving. Even though Eran had not given a reaction, I knew that what I had done was not normal.

Most humans didn’t kill others in such brutal ways. Again, I was not human. I could only hope to pose as one.

For the most part, Eran understood what I was getting at, his face dawning something unreadable. But he wasn’t malicious.

“The orders were to kill. Who am I to question your way of doing that?” Eran stated, his tone clear and stern.

Hah.

“If you say so.” Being in no mood to continue, I found myself standing with the human beside the bodies.

He had no other attempts to question my actions toward the men. Instead, he had instructed me to drag the other body to the estate walls, near the door that we entered through. Grabbing the other, we walked in silence, limp bodies brushing along the reddened path behind us.

It was clear what we were doing, even if he never verbalized it.

We were getting rid of the bodies without a second thought about it.

Eran had set the mutilated corpses near the door, loudly knocking several times before what I assumed to be an estate guard opened it.

The man was not from our troop, and I could not recall seeing him, but Eran only pointed at the two bodies.

“There were more armed intruders tonight.” He and the other guard exchanged serious expressions.

“Carry on. I’ll get rid of the bodies.” The guard had nodded, not batting an eye at the ravaged bodies.

“Thank you,” Eran thanked him, looking back over at me.

His gaze darted at my blood-soaked armor, sighing. Stains of crimson decorated the torso of the armor and the tips of my boots left bloody trails.

None of it was mine. And he knew that.

“Patrols end soon. Go wash up early.” He instructed, pushing me towards the opened door, “You remember where the barracks are?”

I suppose my appearance wasn’t the sightliest right now. I couldn’t blame him for this decision, nor would I argue against it. I needed the time.

“…I do.”

“Good. Head straight there and wash in the showers in the corridor down. There are sponges in the chest, so scrub the blood off your armor tonight.” Eran suggested, already turning tail to finish the patrol.

Briefly, he paused.

“Oh. If you can help it, don’t let anyone see you covered in blood. It’s normal for people like us, but any civilian would faint if they saw you right now. I’ll be honest, you look scary.” He bluntly admitted. After that, he disappeared back on the patrol route.

Eran didn’t need to tell me twice.

To some degree, he was entirely right. I reeked of metallic blood; it was quite strong. A mirror wasn’t needed to gather how rough I looked. Rest assured; I would be taking every precaution to not run into anyone on my trip back.

The other guard that had come to collect the bodies exchanged glances for a second, he scoffed, taking in my appearance.

“If you’re hurt, I can take you to the mage to heal you.” He offered.

“It’s not my blood.” I shook my head, opting to walk past the man instead. His expression paled, as he basically jumped out of my path.

Fuck that. Dealing with a mage was the last thing I wanted to do. If every aspect of my life hadn’t been changed in the last thirty minutes, I didn’t need the prospects of my future to fall on the same day.

Maybe another day.

But not today.

For now, my best bet would be to carry on my time in Trane, leaching off the crown prince’s employment. Besides, all I ever knew in my life was how to be a sword. Acting as a guard was a less extreme case of this though.

Quickly, I rushed along the pathway that we had taken to the outside of the walls, opening the second door to the large meadows of the estate.

There were imperial castle guards on their own patrol, who had spotted my bloodied sixteen-year-old body. They had tensed, eyeing each other urgently, only to relax once they spotted the imperial crest on my armor. As bloodied as it was.

I don’t remember the direct path that I took to the barracks, my whole journey had been occupied by the swirling pieces that I tried to connect. Nor do I recall showering off, sitting down to scrub the crimson off my armor, or laying on the bed.

Clutching the necklace, I stared up at the stone ceiling above my cot. Strangely, I did not feel too shocked about this. Shocked. Well, in a sense… I was. How could I not be? Though, had it sunk in fully? I doubt that it would ever do so.

Time did not matter to dragons, nor to pureblood demons that lived thousands of years. In the dim outlook of my present, no matter what, I would be chained to a future.

It was out of my control. Not once in my life had I ever needed to think for myself, only really following the orders of others. The truth of my current reality lies here in the barracks of yet another monarchy.

A monarchy run by humans, who were once my enemies. Frankly, they were still my enemies. I think. Who were my enemies at this point? Perhaps, I would never be able to figure that out. Not now, maybe never.

If anyone still remembered who I was, that is.

As I lay in my cot, my eyes glued to the ceiling, and my mind raced. I was consumed by my thoughts, troubles, and worries.

Tiring.

I couldn’t remember the rest of the troop returning, as I was never conscious during their arrival. My heightened senses, conditioned by centuries of war, never alerted me to their presence.

Instead, I nodded off to rest.

For the first time since my injury, for the first time in one hundred years, I drifted off into sleep.