Chapter 131
To Win the Battle and Lose the War
After being assaulted by the eerie light coming from Bet-Huda’s Skill, Alrond found himself standing in a garden.
The man knew the garden well. It was one of the many gardens within the Castle, but the flowers and the gazebo that stood next to him had been gone for many years. It now only existed in his memory.
For this was the garden where she used to be.
His eyes then fell onto a figure holding a stalk of rose in her hand.
And for the first time in many years, Alrond’s heart jolted. The sight of her face was anodyne to his loneliness. The only person who treated him as a man.
“M…arie,” he spoke her name with longing.
She looked the same as when he first met her. Long beautiful hair like the ray of sunshine, with a smile as innocent and pure as that of an angel. Her pastel pink dress made her look like a character from a picture book.
“Hello. Alrond,” She called his name with such sweetness as she offered her hand.
The old man took her hand gently and kissed it before clutching it onto his forehead, trembling.
“Marie, Marie.”
But then, he felt the ground shifting beneath his feet. He looked up and saw the flowers rotting and the gazebo slowly bending from rust. His beloved Marie too was changing. Where he touched her, the skin began to fall away.
Surprised, Alrond gasped and pulled himself away.
“What do you think Alrond? Am I not beautiful?” She asked, as if unaware of what was happening around her.
Marie’s skin fell away in chunks, revealing the flesh and innards within. Her beautiful eyes now nothing more than hollow sockets as her eyeballs had fallen onto the ground.
“No! No! Nooo!!”
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Alrond jolted awake as he felt a sharp pain upon his chest.
He opened his coat and found his Protective Amulet had broken and a sharp piece had caused a wound the size of a finger on his chest. Along with that, most of his Magic Items on him were also broken. The only reason he managed to surface from that illusion, was because the attack was weakened by the protective measures he took. It prevented the illusion from taking him in too deep.
He noticed a powerful metallic smell and saw a dead Knight had fallen with his neck wrenched open.
Then he saw a scene that could only be described as created by Nakir-Sud-Mara himself.
One Knight was clawing his eyes out with his gauntleted hands, screaming and laughing. Another was eating the flesh of his friend, blood and gore dripping from his mouth. Another still was sitting and carving his own flesh, pieces of his flesh served neatly in front of him while he was cooing to invisible children before he took his own life.
“Nice meat. Nicey nicey meat. Yum yum.”
As he was stupefied by the horrifying scene, the last of the Knights that were with them ripped his mouth with his own two hands.
Blackmore was standing still in the middle of his deceased men. His eyes staring blankly into space.
Suddenly, he took out a knife from his coat and stabbed his hand, and twisted it.
“Aaagh!” the chubby man fell onto his knees and gasped for air as if he had been drowning. He spat out fresh blood onto the floor and growled angrily. “Agh…hah…hah…that was deeply unpleasant.”
“Blackmore, how did you -?!”
“I’ve been with that Demon for months. I’ve been learning the way to fight illusions since I saw what its body parts did to my men,” the man said as he drank a Potion to heal his wound. “But fortunately, my heirloom Charm had taken the brunt of the Skill.”
When he saw what happened to the Knights, he made a deep frown. “Unfortunately, they do not have the same strength of mind. Is there any survivors?”
"No," Alrond said grimly.
"We made a mistake, Alrond," the man said, but his gaze was not looking for excuses. It was merely a statement of fact.
Then he continued. “Where are they?”
“I’m afraid they have escaped.”
“Not for long. What about you?”
“You go ahead and chase after them, Blackmore. In my current state, I’m just going to slow you down,” the old man staggered as he leaned back onto the wall, exhausted. “It’s time like these I wished that fool Gregory was here. But he has other things on his plate.”
By the end of his sentence, he found that Blackmore was already gone. Alrond sighed. He was ever a man of duty.
Then he sighted the giant crumbling body that was Bet-Huda. Despite his malformed mouth, he could have sworn that there was a smile of satisfaction on it.
This incident was something out of his expectation. As Alrond gazed on the victims of the creature’s unholy Skill, the man made a disgusted face.
“What kind of ruler could inspire such devotion from his subjects, that a Demon with such attachment to his life would gladly offer his life to him?”
His grip on his cane tightened until his knuckles were white.
Nevertheless, they will pay. They will pay for sullying my memory of her.
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The surviving Assassins were currently holed up in one of the many rooms dotting the Castle. They were carefully putting a green Essence Crystal the size of two human heads into a box. The box had numerous runes written in Demon Tongue carved into its exterior.
Careful. Arryn signaled at Heskar, who was handling the box. Don’t look too long at it. Bet-Huda’s Essence Crystal retains some of his power even after his death. That’s why we need this box to put it in.
Leyn took the box into an Item Ring and threw it to Arryn.
Arryn, take the box. You are the fastest among us. Leyn gestured. We’ve suffered some losses. But the mission does not end until we reach the Gate Rune.
As he finished his gesture, he raised an arm and peeked through the gap in the door. He saw a Knight speaking to his colleague in a hurried motion before both went away together.
The Knights are alerted. We’ll have to escape faster. He gestured. Let’s go out the window.
With that, they sneaked out of the room and sneaked along the walls before making their way up to the roof. Before they proceeded any further, Heskar pointed at the mass of Knights that had started to gather at the courtyard just below them and nodded at the other side of the roof.
The four nodded their heads together and moved to the opposite side.
Just as they were about to see the edge of the Castle wall, a spear of ice pierced through the roof. Followed by another and another. The agile Assassins managed to leap out of the way.
“Cavenjaal was right. They were headed here.”
Two figures jumped onto the roof and brandished their swords.
The Hero of Calendia and the Captain of the White Lions. Shit. Heskar cursed in his mind.
The two sides stood on top of the roof, the air practically crackling with tension.
“Give up. There is nowhere for you to run,” Klein said, ice spear forming above his opened palm.
The Assassins slowly shifted their legs back, ready to dash away. But before they managed to run, Akira had unleashed Torrential Water, one of the new Skills he learned after being acknowledged by Cavenjaal. Three powerful spouts of water burst from above, blocking their path.
“Blade of Flowing Water!”
Akira pushed forward, aided by a burst of water that guided his attack. His target managed to hold his sword across his chest in time, but the force was too strong. He could not avoid being slammed into the parapet behind him.
The Assassin who was thrown back spurted blood. But he managed to leave a bomb behind.
“Akira!” Klein braced for impact, but then he saw the other three running past him. By the time he realized that they were fooled, the Assassins had already jumped over the wall.
“Akira! Take care of him and tell the Knights that I’m going after the Assassins!” he shouted as he followed after them.
Akira shouted his acknowledgment and quickly ran towards the Assassin he defeated. As he got close, he saw that the man had already killed himself. A gash upon his neck, with fresh blood still dribbling over his chest. The sword by which he did the deed laid upon his limp hand.
The black-haired Hero was still not used to how lightly they disregard life in this new world and winced regretfully. Curiosity won over his regret, however, as he took off the black mask and head covering that obscured his visage and gasped.
Dark skin, long pointy ears, and a beautiful face even on a male.
“A Dark Elf?”
Just then something fell next to him, crushing the roof shingles. Surprised, he turned towards the source and saw a man that he recognized.
“Earl Blackmore?!”
Akira had met with the man before. He was a jolly-looking man with a penchant for halted, awkward laughter. However, the man before him now looked vicious and bloodthirsty. His eyes glancing at him sternly. “Which way did the Assassins go?”
“O-over the wall,” Akira pointed in confusion.
Once receiving his answer, the man dashed off with the agility seldom seen in a man of his girth.
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While running across the roofs of the building in the Business District, the three Assassins were chugging Potions and throwing them over their shoulders.
He is still after us! He’s on a horse now!
Dammit! How do we shake him off?!
…I’ll hold him off. Leyn began to slow down, but a hand slapped over his shoulder.
No. I will. You and Arryn just get that thing to Bet-Zebek.
What?
Arryn was stunned by the man’s action, the Heskar she knew was a Dark Elf who was brash and selfish. She had disliked him ever since they first met. To offer himself to guard the rear was far from his usual self.
Arryn. You are the hope of our tribe. This is not where you’ll die.
Heskar, you…!
The man was already heading off to his imminent death before she even thought about what she wanted to say.
He’ll die. Without Skills and Magic, he can’t fight one of the strongest Knight in Calendia.
That’s why he’s staying. The longer we stay here the harder it is to finish the mission. Leyn gestured furiously with one hand. Now, let’s go!
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Klein was chasing after the Assassins over the roof for a good while before making a misstep and falling onto the hard road. Fortunately, he had a stronger constitution than most and immediately managed to land into a roll. He then spotted a horse and immediately commandeered it. Quickly reducing their distance.
Suddenly, he felt danger coming through his Passive Skill and ducked, thus managing to avoid getting hit by a poison dart.
An Assassin lunged after him from above, a short sword in hand.
Klein roared and swung the sword from his waist, deciding that a Spell would be too slow.
Metal against metal, the Assassin was thrown aside. The captain ignored the Assassin and prioritized chasing after the two. The abandoned Assassin did not take kindly to this and blew another poison dart. This time the target was the horse’s rump.
“NEIIIGHH!!”
The horse jerked and threw its rider aside before crashing into a nearby house.
Klein dusted himself off and saw the Assassin standing in the middle of the road while innocent bystanders ran off, scurrying like insects into safety. He could sense that the man before him was strong, but not up to his standards.
“You’re not going to give me anything, are you?” Klein said in frustration. “I’ll make short work of you and then I’ll go after your friends.”
“Hmh…”
Above them, Earl Blackmore was jumping from roof to roof while putting on a plain white mask to conceal his face. His family’s innate ability to track people was what made him vital to the dark business of the Calendian Royalties. He spotted the clash between Klein and an Assassin below, but he did not stop to help.
“It’s very obvious that he’s just there to stall. Where are you, you little rats?”
Fortunately for him, the night in the Business District was lit by lamps, allowing him to see even at night.
Finally, he arrived in the slums. Many eyes turned towards him. With clearly expensive clothes and demeanor exclusive to Nobles, anyone could see that he was a Noble. Thus, there was no chance for any street urchin within eyesight not to try and shake him down.
“’ey, rich man. You got something to do ‘ere? Anyone who’s anyone knows they’ve got to pay dues to -”
“Did any of you see people in black cloaks running in?” Blackmore asked while ignoring the man.
Countless eyes looked upon him with distrust.
“’Ey, listen ‘ere!”
Blackmore’s fist crashed against his skull with such force that he spun three times before landing into a pile of trash.
Just then, he saw a glimmer of light that was distinct of a Spell being invoked coming from one of the buildings about fifty paces away.
“There you are.”
He then dashed forward to the source of the light. His hand dipping into his coat, knives ready for battle.
When he noticed the crackling of the mana flowing inside the room was growing brighter, he knew that whatever they were doing must be stopped. So, he threw the knife from his hands, using his Skill as fast as he could, aiming at the window.
“Blight Knife!!”
Three streaks of scarlet broke through the damp wood.
The chubby man climbed over into the room and found a small Gate Rune with a number of large Essence Crystals that powered it.
A Gate Rune is a rune that enabled travel from one location to another. However, two of Blackmore’s knives had stabbed into parts of the painted circle. Interrupting the flow of mana of the complex rune, causing it to malfunction. He also saw a few drops of fresh blood on the ground. One of his knives had managed to hurt one of them. This did little to alleviate his anger, however.
Infuriated, the man got out of the building and grabbed the first Knight he could find, and jabbed the King’s Seal into his face.
“You! Seal the slum and call the Mages!! Wake them up with a bucket of ice if you have to!”
While the man went away almost pissing his pants, Blackmore entered the slum again. Fearful eyes gazing at the little giant as if he was a monster.
“I’ll find you. I’ll find you all even if I have to scour the whole of Calendia!”