Chapter 52:

“You’re right,” Cort said plainly.

Rine was shocked by the sudden confession and was now unsure of how to proceed.

“But you’re also wrong at the same time. You see partner,” Cort said as he pushed his bangs out of his eyes, “I would have finished the job and killed him.”

Rine’s heart dropped to his stomach.

“I mean, what’s the point of keeping him alive? All you’d be doing is burdening his parents with another useless sack of flesh. Realistically speaking, his existence is now nothing more than a nuisance. What if he wanted to take revenge, have you ever thought of that? In the first place, your whole execution was horrible, if you wanted to kill him, why not do it more stealthily? Hell, don’t kill him; enslave him. Make up some bullshit about you knowing how to cure his sister, then slowly and systematically make him more and more dependent on you; fragile minds are easier to break after all.”

Rine’s mind shook at the words coming out of Cort’s mouth and he inadvertently took a step backward.

Seeing this, Cort retorted by taking a step forward; soon, one step turned to three and three to six. All of a sudden he was in front of Rine, his hands bracing the boy’s head.

“Speaking of the sister,” He continued, only now his voice was more akin to a whisper, “Might as well use her too. Hold her hostage? Would be easy to do, but from what I dug up, the parents don’t seem to have a lot of money. So then what? Wouldn’t it be easier to kill her? No actually, you could sell her. I’m unsure of how popular the market for human organs is in this continent but I’m relatively certain you’d find someone interested. Aside from that, you could just pawn her off as a slave; I’m even more certain that there are people who would derive pleasure from her. If that image is anything to go by, then we can be reasonably sure that she is good-looking. Sure she’s in a coma and thus “defective” to some extent, but still…”

Rine was stunned silly at this point, his stomach was churning and his mind was reeling, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. His eyes were glued to Cort’s, making him realize something. He had once said that the man in front of him had eyes as deep as the ocean; now he realized his mistake. They weren’t anything as kind as the ocean, his eyes were an abyss. One so infinitely deep, he could not fathom its darkness. Rine couldn’t help but ask himself how a human could be so void of a soul. Just what was his past? Just how much blood was on his hands; what vile deeds had he done? And, most importantly, why?

Those eyes were not the eyes of a beast, no, a beast had a reason for its madness; instinct. Those were the eyes of a man who had been stripped of his very soul.

“Alright, I’ll stop with the theatrics. My point is actually very simple. Human lives are not toys for you to play around with, nor are they mere points for you to collect, partner. A little bit of viciousness is appreciated, but you must know the consequences of it. You are not me; nor, I reckon, do you ever want to become anything even remotely resembling me. So think about it. Think long and hard. What type of person do you want to become?” Cort asked the final question quietly before letting Rine go.

He did not know when, but Rine had become dependent on Cort’s hold and thus the sudden release threw him off balance and he fell down; landing on his ass.

But the red-haired boy did not care; his face was one of dazed contemplation.

Minutes later, he looked up, only to find Cort missing.

He stood to his feet as he patted the dust away from his bottom. He moved to leave but he stopped when he caught something in the corner of his eyes.

A locket. He stared at it for a solid minute before picking it up.

He did not dare to open it, opting to stuff it into his pocket instead before silently making his way back to the sleeping quarters.

Just as he neared the room, a certain sight stopped him in his tracks. A young man with a frail physique sat outside, beneath the window. Rine recognized him to be Roe, his teammate. The young man was seated with his back against the wall while he rubbed what seemed to be ointment on burnt patches of his skin. Every now and then Roe would stop to look around as if searching for someone.

‘Is he looking for me?’ Rine asked himself as a feeling of guilt washed over him. Roe was the least damaged member of his party, if even he was applying ointment, then what of the others?

With Cort’s words still ringing in his ears, Rine made his way over.

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“Rine is still apologizing?” Amelia asked as she walked through the training field with her brother.

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Calvin nodded as he studied the hard-working figures of guild-members nearby.

Days have passed since the exhibition matches ended and now everyone mostly understood that the higher their badge numbers were, the better they’d look to both palaces. As a result, nearly everyone began taking training seriously. This effect was enhanced by the fact that the time for battle was approaching. Fire Palace scouts were being discovered more frequently along the borders of Sirocco and they seemed to be mobilizing their army.

The final battle was the ultimate opportunity to draw attention; a fact that served to further motivate everyone.

Speaking of badge points, guild-members realized that they could boost their numbers by having mock battles against each other; Calvin and his team knew this better than everyone else as their team had been constantly challenged over these past few days.

This was because Rine’s performance during the first exhibition match really drew people’s attention, making them the center of attention. Oddly enough though, Rine did not seem to enjoy this. Even his performance during the following mock matches was lackluster. Calvin was troubled by this; these days, quite often, Rine could be seen with a dazed look on his face, and every time he tried talking to him, Rine would only apologize for hurting him.

If that was it, Calvin wouldn’t be too worried, but the problem was that he wasn’t taking training seriously either. He actually spent most of his time in the infirmary looking after the people he injured during the first exhibition match.

“He feels guilty,” Calvin said mildly.

“Yeah…” Amelia replied while dropping her head slightly.

“Well, whatever; when the time for war comes, I’m sure he’ll wake up from this funk,”

Amelia did not say anything, opting instead to look toward her brother silently.

“What?” He asked.

“Nothing. Just, don’t risk it ok?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, just be careful out there. Come back alive, both of you.”

“We’ll be fine; I’m more worried about you and Cort, your team is rather low-ranked right?”

“I have a feeling we’ll be fine; we are the defense unit after all, there won’t be much danger.”

“Let’s hope so,” Calvin said as he stared at a particular figure in the training field. Cort stood there, stock-still, holding a sword. He began garnering odd looks for his actions, but he did not seem to mind.

…………………………………………

‘Was I too harsh that night?’ Cort asked himself as he focused his eyes, slowing the world’s movements. The people around him came to a halt and he could see everything in great detail.

‘Perhaps I was, but it was necessary,’ He justified his actions to himself as he took out an Origin stone and crushed it. Cort had seen far too many children walk down the path Rine was heading toward; thus he knew how the young man would end up. Alone and covered in blood that wasn’t his own, tears in his eyes and guilt in his heart.

Empathy was the basis of human interaction. Losing it would mean sealing yourself to a fate worse than death.

Ratson’s ring began glowing in a faint light and soon Cort’s eyes shone with that same light. His vision expanded and he could now see with greater detail. Already familiar with the sensation, Cort was unmoved, and instead, he focused his attention on something else. A distance away, he could see a magician gathering Origin. Cort glued his eyes to the sight and focused the entirety of his mind on it. He studied how the energy gathered, how it moved.

He had done this many times before; especially after he had reached a dead-end in terms of practicing and refining his skills.

In fact, in terms of overall strength, he was far and above superior to his prime on earth. Thanks, in large part, to the breakthrough he experienced with Ratson. But now he was faced with an unassailable wall, and the only way through it was with Aura.

Unfortunately for him, there were no Aura users nearby and if there were, they sure as hell liked to keep to themselves, not even deeming it worthy to practice like the others. So Cort had to make do with watching magicians.

‘He’s still in the infirmary…’ Speaking of people not practicing, Cort couldn't help but notice the fact that Rine was nowhere to be seen.

Sighing, he started to worry. Had his social skills gone rusty; was he truly too harsh? Admittedly it had been a while since he last coaxed a child so it made sense for him to mess up but still…

‘For now, let’s wait to see how things play out.’

…………………………………………

Two weeks have passed since the guild members first stepped foot in Sirocco. Most have grown accustomed to life in it while some still clung to hopes of returning home soon. On this particular day, the weather was clear and the sun hung high. But what should have been a perfect day for a picnic was instead a day filled with tension and fraught nerves.

The earth shook as the entirety of Sirocco’s forces moved in unison, the solemness of their procession highlighted by the ripping winds that surrounded it. Over a thousand warriors and magicians were being led by a comparatively trivial amount of soldiers. The adventures were of all sizes and shapes, dressed in all manner of clothing while the soldiers were uniformed in armor and even in appearances.

Their arrangement was also peculiar. While yes magicians stood at the back while warriors readied themselves at the fore-front; rather than bunching each occupation together, everyone was split into teams consisting of both warriors and magicians, furthermore the teams were arranged in order of badge points, with the higher numbers being placed at the front.

The army was further divided into two segments: Vanguard and Defence.

And above this mess of an army, Clint Rhodes sat in his flying carriage, the horridly sharp currents of wind gently ruffled his perfectly quaffed hair. Surrounding him was a small unit of elite Wind palace soldiers consisting of both magicians and warriors.

“We have arrived,” The closest soldier to Clint spoke to him in a polite manner.

“Oh,” Clint exclaimed mildly before standing up and exiting his carriage.

He looked down toward the large number of men and women under him and smiled. “Everyone, stop.”

His calm voice, though seemingly quiet, reached everyone and instantly the army halted their march.

Tranquility returned to the open field as no one spoke a word. Were it not for the winds that spun viciously around the army, the field would be so silent that a pin dropping could be heard.

That was until the drums kicked in.

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