“It is unwise to let a man who isn't king sit on a throne for too long.” - Costanza Casati (Clytemnestra)
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Hours later, with the first rays of dawn already visible over the horizon, Walden tried to stifle a pained groan. Pain. Pain. Pain. That is all that he could feel throughout his entire body.
For years, he had assumed that the stories and rumours about the Death Reaper were just that. Mere rumours. He was solely corrected on that front when he underwent her tender mercies.
He can understand now where she’d earned her moniker. Her reputation amongst the underground is well-earned.
There were light footsteps just then; with boots crunching leaves even as the owner walked towards Walden. The hunter opened his eyes as best as he could; and from his upside-down position where the Death Reaper had left him strung up from a tree, he could just vaguely make out a dark figure approaching him—his or her face concealed by the dark hood drawn over the head.
“H-Help me please…” Walden croaked.
The figure only gave a light chuckle, quickly identifying him as a male. “I don’t think so,” he said coolly, almost slouching and with his hands in his coat pockets. “I was originally here for you, anyway. But it seems like Sera and Aegis got to you first.”
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Slowly, the guy walked closer to Walden, with the clouds covering the moon moving away at the same time, thus allowing moonlight to fall on him, even as he removed the hood covering his head.
It might have been years, but Walden recognised him.
“Y-You…!”
Despite his reputation, Walden can’t help feeling terrified at the sight of this boy—this young man in front of him. If he had survived the genocide on Blade all those years back, then none of the hunters are going to be safe. If one thought that Sera Kroix was ruthless, then they have to find another different meaning for that word when it comes to this young man.
Zexter—Zest, might be the second-in-command, but it is this young man in front of him that is the Left Hand, and every single hunter knows it.
“Me.” The young man responded coolly. “It’s been quite a while, Walden.” A cold smirk tugged at the ends of his lips.
“Why are you still alive? How are you still alive?” Walden wanted to know. He remembered shooting this young man. How did he survive something like that?
“I’m bad at dying. Just like Sera, I made it a habit to not do what I’m expected to do.” The young man shrugged. “Besides, do you seriously think we’ll let what you did go?” He questioned, narrowing his eyes. “I know Sera. She won’t let it go. And neither will the others. Though I guess that she targeted you this time for a different reason, though it’s not like I can blame her. You crossed the line this time when you targeted children!” His voice echoed around the woods that surrounded Walden’s house. “Let’s see if I can get anything of importance from you before I send you to meet the Goddess.” Walden’s eyes widened with fear when he saw the young man remove a gleaming silver blade out of the holster by his side. He moved closer towards Walden, with the moonlight falling onto the side of his neck where there was a visible tattoo of a blade. “We got all night.”