CHAPTER 88: REUNION

Cassia walked dejectedly back to the grand dungeon hall. Her shoulders carrying the weight of both sorrow and confusion.

Noctharn was still there, awaiting her. The silent shadow giant decided to ask:

“They took the young fellow?”

Cassia looked up in surprise. “Yes… How did you know?”

“Just a hunch.”

She stayed silent for a bit, trying to figure out what to say next.

“I decided to check the rest of the rooms we use… They didn’t take anything else. Not that there would be much to take anyway.”

Star Fate Guild was a bit more well off compared to other shadow guilds in the city, so they could afford to have a few Spatial Bracelets to carry most valuables with them. Of course, nothing could be more valuable than their guild members themselves…

And now, one of them was missing.

She sighed. “What should we do now? Do we chase after them? They are still Silver Moon Knights, Celestine will not take our side if we decide to fight them again.”

Noctharn’s voice echoed in her soul:

“That is not entirely true, young one.”

She tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

“Remember who the intruders were. Two of the ones we saw were most definitely a part from the Silver Valkyrie’s cohort, but the other one—the vine manipulator… Did he look like someone from the Silver Moon church?”

His question rang in her mind as she remembered the fight from earlier. Indeed, the magi that manipulated the plants was highly suspicious. Holy Phantasms of the Silver Moon Church do not possess such abilities. And if he was a Vagrant instead, that would also be improbable since the church views their existence as heretical.

So then, why were they fighting together? And why would they kidnap Soren of all people?

None of this made sense.

She glanced over at Noctharn who was moving back to his smithing station—not much of it was left after Cassia unleashed her Scorched Earth magecraft spell.

“Are you saying that these knights were acting on their own? Did they desert the Knights of the Silver Moon? Why would they do that?”

“Nay,” his voice echoed once more. “I do not believe they are working alone. They are most definitely working for someone.”

Just when she was about to ask again, faint footsteps echoed out from a distant corridor—the same one that the enemies escaped from. Cassia’s muscles tensed as she prepared for another assault. This time, she began preparing her spellforms in advance too.

Soon, the footsteps reached closer to the net of vines the enemy had left behind. She watched as they broke away as if they were all cleanly sliced into tiny pieces or simply passed through a shredder. Out from the corridor’s mouth stepped two gentlemen, one much taller than the other.

The moment Cassia saw who it was, her guard was instantly dropped.

“Tyrel!”

The short young man was wearing his usual dark tunics and light armor underneath. A sword was sheathed to his back that blurred slightly every time a vine fell close to him. His face, which was half covered by a veil, looked fairly annoyed.

To the left of him, another man stood—someone unfamiliar to Cassia. He was a fairly handsome elf wearing a similar garb to Tyrel that hid him in the shadows. His hair was green like seaweed and covered his eyes partially. In his hands were two sinister daggers radiating in a cold, lethal, aura.

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“Tyrel,” Noctharn’s voice echoed. The young man glanced up at the shadow giant and lowered his head again in a respectful bow.

“Master… I have returned.”

Noctharn stayed silent for a bit then asked:

“I am assuming you know who is behind this?”

Tyrel nodded and turned to the elf standing next to him. “I believe it is an individual or a group of individuals called the Whispering Dream. Not much is known about them, but they are most likely the ones behind the incidents that happened in the Feylith Forest and Yadria… And now, they are most likely the culprits behind this attack as well.”

The man standing next to him bowed toward Noctharn and Cassia. “Greetings, I am known as Virion, Captain of the Court of Nightshade. After the incidents that happened in Yadria, I trailed some of the clues left behind there and on the orders of the holy Saintess of Dreams, I was tasked to infiltrate Celestine and find evidence of their existence here.”

Cassia frowned. “I don’t get it. Don’t get me wrong, I have heard about those incidents from my companions who visited your nation, but what does this have to do with Soren? The members who attacked us kidnapped him. And better yet, why are they involved with the Silver Moon Church?”

It was Tyrel this time, that answered:

“It is because he has something that they want. A connection to the Subterranean Shunning Grounds.”

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The world was cold and unfeeling. His mind was both conscious and unconscious. And his body was on the verge of breaking apart.

Another day had passed since Soren made the foolish decision to challenge the Crimson Eye. A truly foolish decision indeed. His mind which had been begging for mercy was now giving up on such a salvation as well. His thoughts which were much more pronounced just a day ago were now nothing more than a puzzle for him to assemble through long forgotten letters and syllables.

And yet, he persisted. He could tell that he was still moving to some unknown location. His muscles were slowly dragging him across what felt like broken glass—the sand beneath him must have been painted red from the ichor leaking every second.

Even in this half-lucid state, the screams of eternally damned souls continued to linger, just a breath away from his ears, as if begging for his attention.

Sh…shut… up….

It was unknown to him how long he had traveled. Did he make it to the castle? Or did he simply fall into a ditch and has been trying to climb up this entire time? Maybe he was already dead. Maybe he was now just another soul inside the Crimson Iris, clinging to its walls, trying his best to escape an eternal torment.

He didn’t know. His eyes had long given up. Thankfully, his Astral Anima had also run out, leaving [Eyes of the Fairy] disabled as well. And yet, the screams were still lingering, as if the very memory of their existence was tainted.

The wind brushed against his skin as his arm stretched once more to drag him further into the unknown. But there was something different this time, a voice unlike the wailing screams of despair. A voice that called out to him.

“Another fool enters the land of the damned. How exciting.”

What… It was hard to distinguish the words from the screams he was hearing.

“What brings you here, creature?”

Soren didn’t answer. His throat had long given up.

“Ah, what a pitiful existence.”

That was the last thing he heard before his mind fell into sleep.

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A cold feeling brushed against Soren, one that sent his muscles to spazz and shiver. His eyes fluttered to life once again.

Where… Am I?

It felt as if his body had awoken from a long nightmare. A nightmare of him going through a long journey alone in the wild reaches of the Beyond, before stumbling upon an existence he had no right to know… An existence that almost erased his mind.

“Ah, you are awake, creature.” The voice echoed from everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

Who?...

Even now, his eyes had still not fully recovered. His vision was blurry and his body itself couldn’t move.

The voice echoed once more, “It seems you haven’t fully recovered yet… Still, I must praise your tenaciousness, Foolish One. Remaining sane after witnessing the glory of a million sins is not a feat any insect can accomplish. You have my respect.”

This time, Soren’s throat croaked, trying its best to speak.

“Who… are… you…” It ended with him coughing up blood.

“Me?” He asked. “What an interesting question. I assumed you’d ask something else first.”

Soren’s mind raced to interpret the harsh words. “It is a question that could answer most questions.”

The cold being laughed hysterically. “Ah, how foolish! But I do find such insolence amusing.”

Soren awaited his body to return to its usual state while the disembodied voice entered his mind once more.

“Very well. You may call me Hurion, Eternal Knight of the Slumbering Wolf.”