Chapter 110

Bloodbound Oath

Azariel thought plenty of things in a short span of time about a man for whose murders he was temporarily framed.

When the man stepped out of the woods, only a sword in hand, and faced them all on his own, Azariel found him charmingly inspiring. Shortly after, though, when he made an offer that they left the forest and would be spared, he found him oddly naive. Right after, however, as he sliced Noor Bin's entire arm off without Azariel ever seeing how, he felt deep terror cruise into his bones. It went back to 'oddly naive' as he made his offer once again, though it morphed and changed as the offer itself did.

It peaked when he ordered all other Maeu to kill Noor Bin together, and swear a rather strict oath. And there was the ordeal of the man offering him a chance at life--courtesy that his own people didn't give him.

"What's your name?" the man asked as the two followed the wolf through the forest. Azariel thought that the man was joking, but it seemed more and more that he indeed needed the animal to guide them to wherever they were going.

"Azariel, my Lord."

"Stop."

"Stop what?"

"Your entire face screams 'desperate kiss-ass'," the man said. "Don't try it. I hate it. Been dealing with it my whole life."

"Khm."

"My name is Leo, Azariel," the man said, his voice rather deep. "I hope you don't have any designs for vengeance."

"Oh, hardly my--I mean, hardly, Leo."

"Why were you on that platform, anyway?" Leo asked.

"I, uhm," Azariel felt a bit awkward, though decided to tell the truth. He always prided himself on the ability to read other people, and it was more than evident that the man in front of him appreciated truth more so than anything else. "I was accused of killing those, uh, the, you know, the ones--"

"--you were framed for my murders?"

"Yes."

"Ouch."

"Hm."

"They must not have liked you much."

"Not at all. Well, I thought they did. Some of them, at least; but Noor Bai--our leader--hasn't liked me much for a long while. It was only a matter of time before my neck was on the line. If it weren't for, you know--"

"--my murders?"

"Yes. If it weren't for those, it would have been something else."

"Even as they were leaving, none of them checked up on you."

"No," Azariel felt the sting in his heart, lowering his head. It was shameful, even for him--none of his own people, his own kin, the very same souls that he was entombed with for thousands of years... none of them so much as raised their voice for him.

"Or asked me to spare you."

"... no."

"Or even acknowledged your existence." Azariel looked up and saw the faintly fading smile on the man's face; he seemed to be have been having fun, though, in truth, it looked like he was very much trying to hold back. At least, Azariel mused, he had that level of courtesy.

"I was not supposed to be there with them, truthfully," Azariel said. "But my Mother insisted, in a way."

"Speaking of being there," there it was, the beginning of the questions. Azariel knew that he would have to either tell the complete truth, or weave enough of it in his lies to make it sound believable. However, he didn't know how the world changed in the days past, and more importantly, who this man was... and why and how he was so close to the Spirits. Azariel felt that, if he made even the slightest of moves, the wolf would immediately jump between them--not because the beast had the ability to main or harm (let alone kill), but simply because it would rather die than let something happen to Leo. That was the level of bond that even Daemoniums never managed to achieve. "How many of others like you are there?"

"Hm?"

"That leader of yours mentioned it, that others were out there as well," Leo said. "If that is the case, I need you to tell me how many, and if you know where they are. I can't have what happened to Howly happen to anyone else."

"Ah, that," Azariel mumbled softly. "Uhm, while there are quite a few of us, I wouldn't necessarily worry."

"What do you mean?"

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"What triggered our revival, you could call it, was presence of Origin Qi. Or, uhm, I suppose it's more appropriate to call it Primordial Qi? Right, you seem to call it that. But, in truth, it was a mistake--we realized it as soon as we woke up. The amount of Primordial Qi is, well, there's barely any. Just faintly fading traces. We woke up too early. If others did, too, they will have likely returned to their slumber. However, as our Clan was the poorest of all at the time, we had no means of integrating such a possibility into our Time Tomb. So, once we woke up... we were woken up. There was no going back."

"You're not lying?"

"O-of course not! I swear an Oath upon my Soul--"

"--alright, alright. Good to see some things haven't changed in however many years you've been gone," he sighed in a strange expression of exasperation, one that Azariel did not understand, but didn't push to understand either. "How much time do you reckon has passed?"

"Unsure," Azariel replied honestly. "Our Paragon predicted that it would be at least ten thousand years before Primordial Qi returned. But it hasn't been that long, I don't think. While we weren't conscious in the Tomb, we still had a somewhat relative sense of the passage of time. A few thousand years, at most, I would wager."

**

Leo mulled over many things, but chiefly that he'd gotten himself tangled up into yet another thing. The forest was far from 'uninhabited', it seemed, and it was only the matter of either time or perspective. He glanced back at the shifty-eyed Azariel, a name that certainly did not fit the naming culture he'd come across so far.

It wasn't entirely out of place either, however; after all, Leo had largely met people from the same culture, and though their appearances naturally varied, the nuances of race did not--they were all the same. He didn't have a proper classification in mind, either; they were a mix, of sorts, and didn't entirely fit in any of the racial structures Leo was aware of. Azariel, however, was different. Besides the flamboyant hair and the shorter, narrower structure of the body, the man also had a much wider neck, shoulders, and somewhat shorter legs.

While the difference wasn't anything like in the fantasy races, it was definitely in line with the differences among the early human species, for instance.

As such, coming across names that did not fit the pattern was unsurprising, and would likely happen far more in the future. Especially if he continued to meet people from thousands of years ago. He was still desperately trying to wrap his head around it, though not well enough. If that were true (and he honestly had his doubts), then there was a good chance that Azariel was at least a descendant of the people Leo saw in the ghostly visions--and possibly those Lu Yang mentioned brokered a deal with the Spirits to 'break free' from the First Demons.

The history of it all was murky, and Leo was hardly willing to assign roles of blame to anyone. As with all histories, they were often distorted, misaligned, or simply made up entirely. While the strange man might offer an insight into what actually transpired, it was also entirely possible he was just... lying. Lying to curate mysticism around him, making it seem as though he was worth alive more than dead.

Then again, there was the matter of Immortals--Yu Minge, for example, who at most looked to be in his fifties, was actually almost 200 years old. It was entirely possible that there was a cult of Immortals for whom a few thousand years truly was nothing. After all, passage of time was entirely relative--the more one lived, it seemed, the shorter the days, the months, and the years became. It was simply that the experiences that would ordinarily matter become numbly routine.

If Leo experienced it before living even four decades, he imagined those living for ten times that and onward felt it far more.

"How did you trap Howly?" that was the one question Leo absolutely needed an answer to, however. He'd come to realize that all his animal friends were... odd, to say the least, and, even if reluctantly, had accepted that they were likely far stronger than him. Chilly, especially, but the feathered thing seemed to be an even great exception. Based on what Leo saw and experienced, there was no way in hell they should have been able to trap him--after all, it wasn't as though Leo was some sort of paragon of cultivation. He was a complete beginner who'd never truly fought, and yet he trounced them with ease.

"Ah, uhm, it's... it's complicated," the man's shifty eyes shifted further--ordinarily, Leo would see this as a sign of lying, but it felt... different. It was more that this was who Azariel was--doubtful, neurotic, and, yes, still shifty-eyed.

"Uncomplicate it for me, then," Leo said.

"How... how much do you know about the Arbiter--I mean, about Howly?"

"--well, didn't know much. I now suspect he's some sort of God."

"God? Ah, no, no, nothing quite like that. I said Arbiter, but, well, it's an arbitrary name. Ha ha. Khm, yes, I agree, it is not that funny. In all honesty, I do not know the full story either--there was the Clansmen history that all children were taught. Long ago, humanity was on the verge of extinction because of the First Demons. The Spirits saw our suffering and offered a concord, and we accepted. Because of the guilt felt by the Spirits, in that they stood by and watched us suffer, they swore a collective Oath to never harm us--thus, if they are of the bloodline, even if they were not the ones who swore the Oath, they physically cannot attack us or do any act that could lead to our harm."

"..."

"I mean, I know--it's... it's just a story," Azariel chuckled rather strangely. "Though I never learned the full truth, I learned enough to know that we simply tricked the Spirits and used them to kill the First Demons and claim their lands as our own. All I know is that they cannot attack us, not unless we liberate them of that Oath." Leo fell silent, examining the man's shifting eyes.

As far as he could tell, it was all the truth--well, the man himself believed it all to be the truth.

Leo sighed, looking away and to the front where Howly was sauntering gracefully between the trees. Just an hour ago, it felt, he was lying in his own blood, distraught and disheveled, shorn of all grace he held, and now...

He'd already made a choice to take Azariel to the stele palace, as he called it, in hopes that the man knew to read the other languages. But that was a thing for another day.

They returned just at the nick of dawn, the trees parting to reveal a singular home and some forty animals spaced around it. All turned their heads and faced them, their expressions distorting ever so slightly as their eyes landed on Azariel. Even Leo could see it, certain dejection with those eyes, a passing loathing even.

However, none moved from their spots, looking away entirely.

"They don't like you," Leo said.

"... can I blame them?"

"Considering that if you do, I will beat you up until you don't... yes, probably don't blame them."

"I know that you don't trust me," Azariel said.

"Good observation."

"And they trust me even less. So," the man took a deep breath, abruptly fell to his knees, poured Qi into his throat and projected his voice into the world until it was booming. "I, Azariel Tian, of clear mind, heart, and soul, descendant of the First Men... release you all from your Oaths, for now and forevermore."