《Mordred&#x27;s Rebirth》


 01 I Died

    "Well. That was a bloody disaster."

    I muttered these words.

    The metallic smell of blood mixed with earth permeated into my nasal cavities as I lay on the crimson ground with a spear driven through my torso.

    So this is how the animals I cooked in my travels felt when I rammed a stick into their bodies over the fire.

    "Sorry little guys.", I muttered as the vengeful spirits of rabbits and small deer glared at me from the animal afterlife.

    Wow. Didn''t know that being close to death can make one see strange stuff.

    Oh, wait! I haven''t introduced myself. How unbecoming of a knight!

    I am Sir Mordred, a Knight of the Round Table and the illegitimate son of High King Arthur Pendragon.

    My mother was Morgause, the queen of Orkney who was later found out to be my father''s half-sister.

    Yeah. Ew indeed.

    Even I was horrified when I heard it.

    I have many other names as well. Bastard, Traitor, Treacherous Knight, The False King, and other colorful monikers.

    As you can see. I am quite infamous.

    Oh. And I was the vile villain who destroyed Arthur''s kingdom as prophesied by the wizard Merlin.

    Yeah.

    I still wish I could drop-kick the old wizard and strangle him with his beard. But alas, he was taken out by a Lady Of The Lake.

    If it weren''t for his stupid future sight. Things wouldn''t have been this messy.

    A sigh escapes my bloody lips. What''s the point now anyway?

    There is no way of undoing the past. A bloody tear flowed down my face as the events of my life and my actions suddenly crashed into me.

    I only wanted to be acknowledged by my father. I wanted to be seen as a son in his eyes.

    I wanted to see if there was a meaning to my wretched life.

    Every human has a purpose and I never fully understood my purpose, apart from being the fruit of a forbidden relationship.

    I tried very hard to be acknowledged by Arthur. I became a knight and rose up the ranks and even became a part of The Round Table.

    But even then Arthur saw me as a good knight, not as a son. So I tried harder and even did things I was not proud of.

    But they always led to disaster. This formed a rift between me, my father, and everyone else, and that rift grew into a huge chasm over time.

    I made it even worse when I revealed my relation to the king. Everyone was repulsed and they avoided me. They looked at me with fear and disgust in their eyes and my father ignored me.

    This eventually caused hatred and bitterness to bud in me.

    Eventually, I came to hate my father and the people.

    So my desire for Arthur''s acknowledgment transformed into an obsession for the throne on which he sat. I thought if I became High King I would finally find meaning in my life.

    And I succeeded in that. While the High King was far away for war, I forged a letter by the ''dying'' Arthur, naming me the heir.

    I ascended the throne, turned the people to my side, and got a taste of being a king. Of being loved.

    I was beloved by all. Such that even when my still-alive father returned with his army, my people, the very people who looked at me with disgust and fear, stood in his path and fought for me.

    It led to many bloody confrontations and all of them culminated to this day in Camlann. I fought my best against Arthur and showed him what I had become.

    The sun hid away behind the dark heavy clouds that formed over the battlefield, unable to witness the clash between father and child.

    Lightning illuminated the dark clouds every time our weapons clashed and the earth was soaked by the blood of the fallen and trembled at the stomping of metal boots on it.

    I and my father fought like demons, our weapons became instruments of bloody death and destruction.

    Surely he would acknowledge me as his son.

    That is what I thought as we fought.

    But Fate is cruel and it deemed my defeat.

    Even when he drove the spear into my body, my father saw the Traitor, not his son.

    He left me to die on the crimson ground soaked with the blood of thousands of men as he staggered away without even looking back at the son he killed.

    That act. His turning his back to me was the final straw and I finally broke. Grief, anger, disgust, all of these emotions overwhelmed me and I cursed my father and myself.

    I despised him and despised myself for feeling that way.

    If I had made a different choice or done things differently, none of this would''ve happened.

    Unfortunately, it is too late now.

    Oh well. At least I did what that senile wizard warned the King years ago.

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    Arthur Pendragon is mortally wounded and will no doubt die from his injuries, his wife cheated on him, his best knight Lancelot betrayed him and his kingdom is now in chaos.

    "Hahaha."

    I know I shouldn''t be laughing in my current condition but I can''t help it. Besides, does it really matter? I am going to die anyway.

    And so I laughed loudly like the vile monster I had become.

    My deranged laughter echoed across the battlefield filled with the bodies of soldiers, both Arthur''s and mine. I laughed and laughed until blood exploded out of my mouth.

    Ow ow ow.

    Yep. It was a bad idea.

    I could feel the life fading from my body. I am quite positive I will be going to hell for the heinous deeds I''ve committed.

    I''ve heard it is a lovely place of eternal torment.

    Looks like death is the only peace I will receive before an eternity of pain and suffering.

    My vision started to fade and my breathing slowed down. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.

    And standing in it was a young man.

    Hold up. A young man standing at the end of the tunnel? That is not your standard last-moment stuff.

    Oh, wait. He is standing over me.

    Using the last of my willpower I cleared my vision to look at the strange man.

    Beautiful.

    That''s the first thing that came to my mind when I saw the tall man.

    He was quite young, in his early twenties, and had a slim frame. He wore a simple grey shirt and black pants underneath a grey cloak with glowing runes that constantly shifted across the fabric.

    He looked like an angel. I didn''t know the angel of death was quite a handsome one.

    But he also looked like a wizard.

    "Merlin?", I asked. For some reason, the young man reminded me of the stories I''d heard of the old wizard.

    The young man smiled warmly but his ocean-blue eyes were tinged with sadness, "It appears that you still haven''t passed on. Unfortunately, I am not Merlin. But he was my student."

    Merlin had a teacher? There was never any mention of that.

    Just who is this guy?

    But my voice failed me. I am at my end. A wave of peace washed over me as the mysterious person placed his hand gently on my forehead.

    His long white hair which almost glowed swayed in the wind as he spoke.

    "Have a good rest, Mordred. Things might get weird when you wake up."

    What does he mean by that? I am literally dying in front of him! There is no ''waking up'' for me.

    My eyelids became heavy. Oh well. Does it matter?

    I closed my eyes and breathed my last.

    Darkness enveloped me. I felt weightless as I floated in the dark and peaceful void. I tried to move my limbs only to find out that I didn''t have any.

    I''ve become formless. The only thing that I can sense is my consciousness floating in the darkness.

    I sighed from my nonexistent mouth.

    This feels nice. So this is the peacefulness of death. I should fully utilize this calm before the storm of eternal torment in hell.

    Hours, days, months, and years have passed. Or it seemed like that.

    I frowned and wondered.

    Is this it? Just floating aimlessly in the dark void of nothingness?

    I am quite surprised that my consciousness is still intact.

    Helloooo.

    Did someone forget to open the gates of hell?

    Don''t tell me. Is this my punishment? Just being formless in the void for all eternity?

    Oh no. Oh no no no.

    This is scary and boring. I don''t like to be bored. I tried to shout but my voice failed to come out. I tried to move but unfortunately, being something similar to air made it a little hard to move around.

    I eventually gave up and decided to take a small nap. Even without a body, I still became tired.

    How strange is that?

    Hm? What is that weird beeping sound? I stirred from my very short slumber and looked around. The weird sound was coming from beside me but I saw nothing.

    How strange. I tried to get back to sleep but the sound got louder and louder until I was surrounded by the infernal beeping noise.

    First the scary and unending void. Now this? Will I never get a peaceful rest? Just as the noise became unbearable, I''d had enough.

    "BY MERLIN''S BEARD! SHUT UP!", I yelled and slammed my fist on a solid object. With the sound of shattering glass, the noise finally died.

    Wait? I have a fist? Last I checked I was formless.

    Also. Ouch! My hand!

    But now I feel like I have a physical body. I opened my eyes and was immediately blinded by sunlight. Being in the dark for a very long time can do that to someone.

    Ow! My eyes! They are burning! Oh, the agony!

    Just what is happening?

    Slowly my eyes adjusted to the light and I could finally see.

    And what I saw surprised me.

    I found myself sitting on a comfortable bed, the sheets strewn across my legs. I was in a spacious room with a huge glass window instead of a wall on my right.

    The thick crimson curtains were tied to the side and allowed the light of the rising sun to fall on my room.

    The room was moderately furnished. There were two desks arranged in an L-shape near the corner on my left, one having books and some tubular things that somehow reminded me of quills used for writing.

    The second desk had a thin black contraption that looked like a huge clamshell. A strange thin box having raised buttons and what looked like a toy mouse were connected to it by some string.

    A rather strange-looking chair with small wheels was positioned between the two desks. Near the second desk was a door that led somewhere beyond the room.

    The main doors of the room near the first desk were closed.

    There is a big shelf lined with many books near the huge window. There is a comfortable-looking sofa, a round dining table for two people between my bed and the shelf,

    A huge mirror was attached to the wall opposite my bed, next to the shelf and what looked like the doors of a wardrobe that was built into the wall.

    Now that I look closely, beyond the huge window is a balcony with a few chairs. I noticed two small tables on both sides of my bed.

    My clenched left fist was on one of them and it was bloody. Looks like I smashed something that was made of glass and metal.

    Ow. That hurt.

    I held my bleeding hand and carefully pulled out the shards of glass from what used to be my alarm clock.

    Wait. Alarm clock?

    What the heck is an alarm clock? And how do I know what it is?

    "What the hell?", I spoke and then immediately covered my mouth. Why do I sound so young?

    Before I could find answers to these questions, a crippling headache caused me to double over in pain.

    And then the memories started to rush in.

 02 I Get A New Face

    I threw up for another ten minutes.

    My splitting headache disappeared but I hugged the porcelain throne called a toilet for a few more minutes in case the messy aftereffects of having the memories of another person forcibly injected in me returned with a vengeance.

    Goodness. What in the world was that?

    My mind swirled as information and memories arranged themselves inside my head. I tried to grasp one piece of information.

    My mind got overwhelmed by the sheer volume of knowledge and I let loose another flash flood of nastiness out of my mouth.

    After making sure that my stomach had calmed down, I staggered over to the basin and splashed cool water on my face. After that, I looked at myself in the mirror.

    An almost feminine face with scarlet eyes that glittered like rubies looked back at me.

    I touched my face and stroked my messy snow-white hair to make sure what I was seeing was real and sure enough, the boy in the mirror mimicked my action.

    I took a deep breath to calm myself down and looked at my previously injured hand. Somehow it healed and the fair skin looks like I never smashed my alarm clock in the first place.

    My right hand was covered in a white silken glove. I removed it and I raised my eyebrows in mild surprise.

    Ah. This is interesting.

    I put the glove back on and looked at my new face in the mirror.

    The memories and new information settled in my mind and I slowly picked them up. I took a deep breath and tried to figure out my situation.

    Let''s recap. Shall we?

    I am Sir Mordred, the Treacherous Knight and the bastard child of King Arthur Pendragon. I died in the battle of Camlann and woke up in the body of...

    Myself?

    According to the memories that invaded my brain some twenty minutes ago, this body belonged to Mordred Pendragon, the son of Arthur Pendragon and Queen Morgause.

    But things are different. Very different.

    So different that my noggin is starting to spin already and I can feel something rise from my stomach. I shook my head.

    Focus.

    My father, Arthur Pendragon is the High King of the largest continent in this world.

    No surprise there.

    And my mother Morgause thankfully was not my father''s half-sister. She was the King''s second wife along with Guinevere.

    I am just glad I am not the product of incest.

    Hm. Incest. Quite an interesting word.

    Anyway.

    Arthur had two kids with Guinevere and two with Morgause. So four children in total.

    The oldest is Morgan.

    Yes. The Morgan Le Fay. The villainous sister of King Arthur and my aunt in my previous life is now my elder sister by five years. She is the daughter of Guinevere.

    The second child is Gawain who is the oldest child of Morgause. So my half-brother from my previous life is now my actual brother.

    The third child is Elaine whose mother is Guinevere and is the same age as me. In my past life, she used to be King Arthur''s sister.

    Weird? Yeah, I feel the same.

    And finally, there''s Mordred, whose body I just woke up in. He was born a week after Elaine and unfortunately, Morgause passed away after giving birth to him.

    Just my luck.

    In this world, King Arthur doesn''t like me.

    I sighed. Is it a fundamental law for King Arthur to dislike Mordred no matter the world?

    But it is not because his wife died giving birth to me but because Mordred was weak. Very weak.

    Compared to his monstrously talented siblings, Mordred was like a weak street dog.

    A good-looking street dog.

    But in a world where the strong and cunning reign supreme, a weak prince is an absolute failure.

    So he had a rough childhood. He was ignored by his father and eldest sister, and picked on by Elaine and her friends. Even his servants made his life hard.

    The only ones who were good to him were his brother Gawain and Queen Guinevere.

    The First Queen and Morgause were great friends and rivals. So when Morgause died, Guinevere decided to take care of her friend''s sons.

    She is a wonderful woman who cares for Gawain and Mordred.

    Despite getting frequent warnings from the King, she secretly visits Mordred and brings him small gifts. She comforted him, chastised him if he caused trouble, and even scolded Elaine for bullying him.

    Not that it had any effect.

    Perhaps it was because of how he was treated, the old Mordred was pitiful. He was a comical coward and was the epitome of failure.

    I sighed.

    Yeesh. How embarrassing.

    Arthur never really paid attention to him. It was as if Mordred Pendragon never existed in his eyes.

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    That was, until a week ago.

    During a grand banquet, thirteen-year-old Mordred beat up the heirs of three duchies under the High King.

    Arthur himself took action and had Mordred put under house arrest until he resolved the situation with the rather angry dukes.

    Things couldn''t get any worse. Right?

    Haha. This is Mordred Pendragon we''re talking about. So of course things got worse.

    Way worse.

    Two days ago, Mordred had a very high fever and nobody came to his aid.

    Gawain, a frequent visitor was away for a mission from the king. Guinevere and Elaine were ordered to not visit him during his house arrest.

    The illness came at the worst possible time. The servants dismissed it as a small cold and didn''t even inform the main palace.

    They didn''t even bother to check his temperature or provide him with any medicine.

    He probably succumbed to it today and that''s when I came into the picture.

    His final moments were pure agony as the mysterious illness ravaged his body and mind.

    He died cursing his life, the world, and everything.

    A horrible way to die.

    It appears that I woke up sometime after he died. And I woke up at a rather tricky time because today was the day the High King would give me my punishment.

    Harming an heir to a duchy is a serious offense that can even be punishable by death. Not even the child of the High King is immune to punishment

    And Mordred beat up three of them.

    Yeah. Things are not at all looking good for me.

    I sighed. I wonder if I should travel the same path of the villainy of my past life.

    I shook my head. I have already had my revenge.

    So what should I do from now on?

    Well. Try not to die for the moment.

    But how do I do it?

    I wracked my brain for a solution. According to Mordred''s memories, I beat up the three heirs so much that they almost died.

    Such an offense would automatically result in harsh punishment, maybe even death by execution. But my father is the High King. Surely he will not execute his son?

    Right?

    But I am technically not a likable son at the moment. Soooo.

    I sighed. Looks like I should start begging for my life. I don''t care about my pride as a knight of the Round Table.

    What good is pride when you are dead?

    Plus. The previous Mordred was very good at begging on his knees like the pitiful dog he was.

    I exited the bathroom and got dressed in my best outfit for meeting the High King and begging for his mercy.

    A black sleeveless turtleneck, a white jacket with red accents, white pants, and white boots.

    My. Mordred likes the color white.

    But damn, I look really fine. I couldn''t help but admire my beauty. Sure, I am quite thin and small for my age but I look pretty dashing.

    As I was making some cool poses in front of the mirror, someone knocked on my door.

    I quickly stopped what I was doing and without asking who it was I blurted out, "Come in."

    The door opened and a wave of power washed over me. My eyes widened. This is quite familiar. It reminds me of my aunt.

    Although I had never met him in my past life, I have heard stories of this person''s power. It was similar to the power Morgan Le Fay wielded in my past life.

    After all, she learned magic from this person.

    The legendary grand wizard Merlin stood in front of me. But there is something wrong.

    Very wrong.

    Standing in the doorway was a girl.

    She looked about four years older than me but I bet my Clarent that she is much older than her appearance. She is of average height and annoyingly taller than me.

    Her waist-length white hair faded to light pink at the ends and her pinkish-white bangs were swept to the side

    Her skin was as fair as snow and she wore a sky-blue jacket over a white shirt and jeans that complimented her petite figure underneath a silvery grey high-collared cloak that looked like it had a life of its own.

    Her choice of footwear was strange as she had a black leather boot with white designs on her right foot and a white boot with black designs on her left foot.

    But her most incredible features are her eyes.

    Her eyes are like a kaleidoscope, shifting between many colors and they glowed with power.

    One could look at her eyes and be lost in them for hours, figuring out which shimmering color would appear next.

    She is a truly beautiful girl but I can feel that underneath that doll-like face is a being of immense power.

    Perhaps even more powerful than the Merlin of my previous life.

    I know I shouldn''t but my mouth moved before I could even think about it.

    "Merlin. You''re a girl."

    Maybe the girl standing in front of me is a disguise? That old wizard loved moving around in disguise.

    Merlin narrowed her eyes and frowned, "What kind of a question is that? Of course, I am a girl. Do you want me to prove it to you?", she spoke as she shrugged off her jacket, and unbuttoned her shirt.

    A tempting offer but...

    "Nope! I''m sorry I asked that!", I waved my hands. My new memories of her confirm that Merlin is truly a girl, and a truly beautiful one as well.

    One thing I can vividly remember is that she is quite shameless. The many times she barged into the common hot springs while I was using them are etched into my memories.

    She is quite an interesting person.

    Unlike most people who ignore or harass Mordred. Merlin remains neutral.

    She talks to him but is not overly friendly. Now that I realized, whenever she talked to Mordred, her eyes were filled with pity and guilt.

    I have a vague idea of why.

    There''s a possibility that everything that happened in Mordred''s life, the ignorance from his father and sister, the bullying from Elaine and the servants to my current situation...

    All of them were caused by her.

    I should confront Merlin about that. But now...

    "What is it?", I asked, "Has His Majesty decided my punishment?"

    Merlin was a little surprised by my tone but she quickly dismissed it, "Yes. And I am here to deliver Arthur''s message."

    "He didn''t want to tell it to me himself?"

    She sighed, "You know how things are between the two of you."

    "Yeah. I understand.", I agreed with her.

    Merlin frowned, "You are awfully calm. Usually, you would kick up a fuss during these situations. Did you eat something funny?"

    "Well. There is a thing called maturity."

    "Huh.", she looked suspicious but shrugged and took out a letter and gave it to me, "To be honest. I feel bad for you, Mordred."

    I looked at the letter with the official seal of the Pendragons stamped into it.

    Even in this age of technology and faster communication, the High King still uses letters as a form of communication in the royal palace.

    I tell you. That guy is weird.

    Well. I came from an age where the most advanced technology was the humble windmill. So I guess I have no right to call him weird.

    I opened the letter and read its contents. I blinked and read it again and again. This has to be a mistake. My whole body went numb.

    I did not receive the death penalty.

    But I received something much much worse.

    I looked at Merlin with wide eyes. My voice trembled.

    "This has to be a joke. Right?"

 03 Id Rather Be Executed

    Merlin shook her head. "I am afraid it is not, Mordred."

    She looked at him and announced in an emotionless voice.

    "Just as the letter implies. You, Mordred Pendragon are to be put in the frontlines against the Tear in the North. That is the punishment his Majesty, High King Arthur Pendragon has decided for you."

    "I have eyes, Merlin. No need for you to say it out loud.", I grumbled and put the letter back in the envelope.

    This is bad. From the new memories and information ingrained into my brain, the chances of surviving against the Tear is an abysmal ten percent.

    Heck, even surviving a month there is considered a miracle.

    And my father wants me to fight on the front lines? He''s telling me to die a brutal death!

    "I''d rather be executed.", I told Merlin.

    She shrugged, "I don''t think you can do anything. The High King''s orders are absolute. Even begging him is futile now."

    It was as if she read my mind.

    I can already hear the bells ringing for my funeral. Is this punishment for all the evil I had committed in my past life?

    Ah. I am screwed.

    I sighed and looked at Merlin in defeat, "Very well. I will go to the North."

    She was surprised by my answer. I can understand her reaction. The old Mordred would''ve started throwing a tantrum and would be begging on his knees.

    But now, Mordred Pendragon is dead and I, Mordred the Treacherous Knight have inherited his body.

    I have already died once. It was peaceful but that''s it. Nothing else.

    To be honest, it was empty and quite boring.

    I don''t care if this is punishment for my actions but for some reason, I was given a second chance.

    I was given a chance at redemption. So I will take it. I will live this life for myself and for Mordred who passed away in pain and loneliness.

    Thanks, kid, Now let me take the reins.

    "So. When do I leave?", I asked Merlin.

    She shook herself out of her shock and cleared her throat, "As soon as possible. I would suggest you have your breakfast before departing."

    "How nice. You are allowing me to have my last meal."

    She frowned, "Just what happened to you?"

    "Like I told you, I matured. That''s all. Please inform His Majesty that I will depart soon after breakfast.", I replied.

    Merlin narrowed her eyes, not at all convinced by my vague answer but she nodded, "Very well. I will inform him."

    With that, she left me and I closed the door. I walked to my comfortable bed and collapsed on it.

    This is quite the mess I am in.

    According to the letter, I have to serve in the North for three years, a year for each heir I beat up.

    I closed my eyes and started to come up with ways to survive. As I said, surviving a month against the Tear is considered a miracle.

    Even surviving for a year will make you a veteran. And I''ll be in that hell for three years.

    Great. Just great.

    And even if I survive in the end, there is no guarantee that I will recover mentally from it.

    "Thanks, Dad. You are such a caring parent.'', I muttered.

    My door opened and a servant brought in my breakfast, "Your breakfast, Mordred."

    I frowned at his arrival. How rude!

    He didn''t even knock on my door and just entered as he pleased. Even Merlin showed that basic courtesy. And how dare a servant address me so casually?

    Even if I am a Failed Prince, I am still Royalty! For goodness sake!

    Unfortunately, this is not the first time. These guys have been rude to Mordred for a long time, judging from his memories.

    Seeing someone as privileged as me having a hard time gives them sick satisfaction.

    And since Mordred lives separately from the main palace, the ones there are not even aware of this behavior, and even if he complained, things never changed.

    The rude bastards assigned to this world''s Mordred are crafty enough to make it seem like they are doing their jobs and they even dared to blame him for the things they committed.

    And the worst part is, The High King believes them!

    Yeah! My father considers a mere servant more trustworthy than me, his son.

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    These bastards let Mordred die from his sudden illness. They didn''t contact the main palace. Heck, they didn''t even pick him up when he collapsed.

    The servant brought in my food and without even setting the table, proceeded to leave.

    Oh no you don''t.

    The old Mordred may have tolerated your impudence due to his fear of the servants but I am different.

    You are a servant and I am your master. It''s not the other way around.

    "Wait. Put my breakfast on the table.", I ordered him.

    He turned around and gave me an uninterested look, "Do I have to?"

    "It is an order from the High Prince.", I said with some authority.

    The servant stiffened. Maybe it was the way I spoke or how the air around me changed. I just stared coldly at him.

    "Should I repeat myself?", I asked in an icy tone.

    He momentarily flinched at my gaze. With a begrudging look, he set my table for breakfast.

    After he was done, he called for me, "Your table is ready, Mordred."

    I didn''t move from my place, "I am sorry. What did you say?"

    His eye twitched, "Your table is ready."

    I just looked at him without uttering a word.

    I could see that he was gritting his teeth, "Your table is ready, Your Highness.", he forced the last part out like it was something unpleasant.

    "That''s better.", with a satisfied smile of superiority, I stood up and sat down on the chair before my covered breakfast. I saw the servant smirk from the corner of my eyes when he revealed my food.

    I narrowed my gaze at the ''breakfast'' I was served, "What is this?"

    "Bread and soup, Your Highness.", he said as if it was the most obvious thing.

    I glared at the servant and he flinched, "Is this all there is for my breakfast?"

    He nodded and gave an exasperated sigh, "Yes, your Highness. Unfortunately, the Dawn Palace is facing a shortage of ingredients."

    Lies.

    There is a constant supply of fresh ingredients that are brought into the Dawn Palace, where Mordred has stayed since the day he was born.

    It is just that these guys indulged themselves with the finest things and brought him the scraps. This has been going on for years, judging by my new memories.

    I sighed, "Is that so? Inform the head servant to make sure this doesn''t happen again."

    "Very well. I will relay the message, Your Highness.", the servant said.

    I know that he will never do that.

    I scooped a small portion of the soup with my spoon and put it in my mouth.

    I gagged and almost spit out the stuff.

    This is soup? More like glorified seawater.

    I broke a piece of bread and ate it. It was dry and hard to chew. This has to be the stalest bread I have ever eaten.

    I glanced behind me and saw the servant smirking.

    Oh, you little...

    How did the old Mordred even survive eating this crap? Even prisoners eat better than this!

    No wonder he has a weak body. The kid was malnourished by eating this crap every day or not eating at all.

    But there is nothing I can do.

    If I created a fuss, I would only be punished by starvation, the same if I refused to eat. Seems like the servant behind me is expecting one or both of those reactions.

    No bloody way am I doing it, you bastard.

    Besides, I am quite ravenous after twenty minutes of hard puking. So I swallowed my pride and ate my revolting and possibly final meal.

    The servant was quite shocked when he saw me eating with gusto. He didn''t expect this from the Failed Prince.

    I was halfway into my meal when someone else knocked on my door. Seriously, Can''t I have some food in peace?

    "Who is it?", I asked, wiping my mouth with a napkin. Only a few people ever enter the Dawn Palace. So I don''t have frequent visitors.

    "It''s me, Morgan.", a cool female voice replied, shocking me and the servant.

    Well. This is a first.

    Apart from Gawain and Guinevere, the only other person from the main palace who visits Mordred is Elaine. And she only comes to bully him until he is reduced to tears.

    Arthur and Morgan had never even stepped foot inside Dawn Palace ever since Mordred, well, I was brought here.

    I should get used to my new life.

    So I was quite surprised when the latter was knocking on my door. I glanced at the servant and he immediately went to the door.

    "Come in.", I said and he opened the door to reveal Morgan Le- I mean, Morgan Pendragon.

    I need to start organizing my old and new memories.

    Morgan is a truly beautiful young lady. She was dressed casually in a white full-sleeved, off-shoulder top and black jeans that complimented her tall and slim figure.

    Her fair skin almost glowed in the light of the morning sun and her wavy raven black hair that she inherited from Arthur spilled over her shoulders and reached her waist.

    Her scarlet eyes that glittered like rubies took in the rather minimalistic appearance of my room and her casual white shoes stood out from the dark color of my carpeted floor.

    Her hands moved gracefully and I noticed that her nails were painted black. Her silver earrings that resembled crosses swayed as she walked into the room.

    Whoa. My sister is a knockout.

    The servant was trembling in her presence. I can''t blame him.

    Morgan is a genius considered to be one of the strongest warlocks in her generation and is the most powerful child of the High King.

    The power she is unconsciously releasing is incredible. As expected from the strongest enchantress of my past life.

    From my new memories, Morgan is known as a cold person who looks disinterested at all times but she has great respect and love for Arthur.

    She also loves her family and has a warm side that is not always seen by many. Well, most of her family. I doubt I am included.

    She acknowledges the strong, pushes the weak to become stronger, and outright ignores the weakest and most hopeless ones like me.

    Morgan is smart, strong, beautiful, cunning, and has the right mix of ruthlessness and compassion. The perfect daughter and the perfect princess.

    No wonder many consider her to be the one to inherit the throne.

    Compared to a being like her, I am a dog that is just good-looking.

    She looked around my room with an uninterested look. Well, my room is not as lavish as one would expect from the room of a prince. But I liked it. It is quite good.

    "You have an intriguing room.", she remarked in a voice that was devoid of all interest.

    I stood up and bowed with a smile, "I am quite honored by your visit to my humble abode, your Highness. I was having breakfast when you knocked on my door."

    "Hmm.", Morgan glanced at what I was having and froze.

    "Mordred. What are you eating?"

 04 I Dont Need Your Kindness

    I was confused.

    Morgan asked me what I was having for breakfast.

    Strange.

    "Um. Bread and soup?"

    Her gaze immediately went to the trembling servant at the door and pointed down at the floor, "You. Come over here."

    He squeaked like a rat and kneeled in front of her.

    Wow. So he does know how to give respect.

    "What is the meaning of this?", Morgan pointed at my unsavory breakfast and demanded.

    "Y-your H-highness.", the servant stammered, "T-the Dawn P-Palace is experiencing a shortage of i-ingredients. That''s why the prince''s food is like this."

    The audacity of this idiot! He''s lying to the bloody First Princess!

    "Oh? Is that so?"

    And she believed it?!

    Genius, my ass! She can''t even detect a lying fool!

    I saw the servant calming himself down and looking relieved.

    "Then what happened to the supply vehicle I saw last night carrying fresh supplies to the Dawn Palace?"

    Oh. I take back what I said about her.

    The servant was trembling again under Morgan''s fierce gaze, "You dare speak lies to me?"

    "N-no Your Highness! I-it was a m-mistake! Pleases forgive me!", he was groveling at her feet.

    "Forgive you?", Morgan narrowed her eyes, "Then explain to me why a High Prince is eating that sorry excuse for food. "

    "Hiek!", he couldn''t respond.

    Morgan looked at me and I unconsciously flinched, "Mordred. Answer me. Is it the first time this is happening?"

    Her voice carried so much authority that I wondered whether to answer the question standing up or with my head pressed against the floor before her.

    I looked at the servant, he was pleading with me with his eyes. How laughable. He is asking for help from me.

    I shook my head and spoke calmly, "No. Your Highness. I''ve been treated like this ever since I could remember."

    Is it just me or did I see her eyes widen in shock?

    She turned to the servant, "Don''t tell me. You and the other servants indulged in most of the supplies and have been giving a High Prince scraps to eat?"

    Whoa. She is sharp.

    Also, this is quite entertaining. Breakfast and a show!

    "No no! Y-your Highness. That''s not it!"

    "You dare to lie again? Or is it the High Prince, who is lying?", a dangerous glint appeared in her eyes.

    The room started to shake as her aura leaked out and a terrifying chill made me shiver. The servant was trembling violently as the terrifying aura emanating from Morgan pressed down on his body.

    "IT''S T-THE H-HIGH P-PRINCE!", the fool shouted and quickly placed his hand on his mouth.

    Oh boy. He just dug his own grave and jumped into it.

    Morgan''s terrifying aura and bloodlust disappeared and a deadly silence surrounded the room.

    "Lies.", Morgan spoke in a voice that was barely a whisper. "I was wondering why the Dawn Palace looked so unkempt despite the constant financial support."

    Wait. Do I get financial support? That''s news.

    "Raegis.", she called. Her shadow rippled and a person clad in black and a mask that covered half of his face emerged.

    "Take this man along with all the other servants and question them. Also, investigate everything that has been happening in here until now.", Morgan ordered.

    The knight nodded, "Yes, your Highness.", and dragged the sniveling servant away who screamed, "PLEASE FORGIVE ME, YOUR HIGHNESS!"

    Well. I guess that''s the last time I''ll see that guy. I then looked at the receding figure of the person that appeared from the shadow.

    Phantom Knights, an elite and secret order of highly trained knights hand-picked by the High King himself. They answer only to Arthur and one of their main duties is to protect members of the royal family.

    Well, except for me. Apart from some obvious reasons, there was also the fact that I had never set foot outside the heavily guarded palace compound in all my years.

    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    So there was little security I needed.

    Yeah. Mordred was confined in these walls since birth. Unlike his siblings who went to school, made friends, and enjoyed their childhood, he was homeschooled and always kept behind the walls of the Dawn Palace.

    Well, I guess keeping him away from the outside world where it is difficult to monitor him is a smart move.

    Anyway, I don''t understand what Morgan is doing here. She never paid any attention to me. So why now of all times?

    As the screams faded away. I sat down and continued my breakfast. I am still hungry and even the salty abomination which is nowhere near a soup tasted fine.

    Morgan turned around and was shocked by the sight of me eating my ''breakfast''.

    "How can you eat that garbage?", she asked in surprise.

    I shrugged, "I''ve been eating this ''garbage'' ever since I learned how to chew."

    There was silence as she absorbed what I''d said.

    "So. What are you doing here, your Highness?", I asked.

    She gazed at me with her scarlet eyes, "I heard about your punishment, Mordred."

    Ah. So that''s it.

    I will be going to a place known for its high death rate, so she wants to see me properly for the first and the last time. I am her brother after all.

    Did she think that helping me by fixing my living conditions and punishing those rude servants would make things easier between us?

    How sickening.

    I finished my bread and soup with a grimace. It was nasty but filling. After washing down the saltiness from my mouth with warm orange juice, I wiped my mouth and smiled.

    "I understand, Your Highness."

    She frowned in confusion, "What?"

    "After all, isn''t it a royal courtesy to visit and aid your dying kin during their final days?"

    I saw that my words shook her, making a crack in her cold indifferent expression. I leaned back.

    "What you just did for me. Was that kindness? Then I am sorry Your Highness. I don''t need it.", I curled my lip into an icy smile.

    She quickly recovered and shook her head, "What I did was necessary. A High Prince must never eat that sorry excuse for food."

    "Oh, now I''m a High Prince to you? I thought I never existed in your world.", I replied in mock surprise.

    "Mordred-"

    "You visit me for the first time after ignoring me all my life and you think you can talk to me like an older sister? ", I didn''t let her talk.

    Unfortunately, Morgan was not one to back down easily.

    "Mordred.", Her voice made me stop. I looked at her and was surprised. The cold Morgan Pendragon is looking at me with concerned eyes.

    "You are been punished due to your actions. But even I feel like your punishment is too harsh for a thirteen-year-old. You should talk to Father. Or if you want, I can talk to him.", she offered.

    I just stared at her. Interesting. So seeing a thirteen-year-old going to a dangerous battlefield pricks her conscience while not even acknowledging the existence of her little brother does not?

    What a strange person.

    And she wants to help me now? After all the times the previous Mordred called for help?

    The audacity.

    "Yes. I am getting punished for my actions. But have you ever wondered the reasons for my actions?", I asked.

    Before she opened her mouth and answered my question.

    "I only wanted His Majesty to confirm my existence. I wanted to be part of the family. I only wanted to be acknowledged.", I gave her a bitter smile, "I believe the word ''acknowledge'' is not foreign to you. Oh, the rising star of Camelot."

    She gave no reaction but I could sense that my words stung her. I could see it in her eyes.

    "You have an ideal right? Acknowledge the strong, push the weak to become strong, and ignore the weakest and most hopeless.", I placed my chin on my hand.

    "You ignored me because I was the weakest. But do you have any idea how much I struggled to at least be weak? I thought that if I progressed from weakest to weak, you might at least notice me."

    "But it''s quite difficult to notice how strong a weakling has become if you ignore them. A strong person will be seen as a weakling until their strength is acknowledged. But what if no one acknowledges their strength?"

    "He will remain a weakling.", Morgan answered.

    "Exactly.", my lips curled into a cold smile. I got up and walked up to her. She is taller than me so I had to look up to meet her cold scarlet eyes which began to shake.

    "You and His Majesty never acknowledged me. I studied diligently, trained hard, suffered many humiliations, faced starvation, and sustained painful injuries. I even caused some trouble to at least get a scolding."

    "The only ones who ever acknowledged me were Gawain and the First Queen."

    "Even Elaine, who bullied me relentlessly knows who I am. Of course, I hate her. But I loathe you and His Majesty.", I said the last part quietly but enough for her to hear me properly.

    This is not just my feelings being expressed. I am also bringing out the anger, sadness, and suffering that Mordred experienced while growing up.

    Morgan was shocked by the words coming out of my mouth, from the mouth of the brother that never existed. Finally, I broke that cold mask on your face, sister.

    I turned around and let out a huge breath, "Phew. Glad that is out of my system."

    There was a long silence as my words sunk into Morgan.

    "What can I do? To make things right."

    The question from Morgan hit me like a spark of electricity.

    Seriously, after all this time, now you want to make amends? Unbelievable. How shameless can you be?

    The audacity!

    I looked back at her, looking at her with the same cold gaze she always wore on her face.

    "I am afraid it is too late, Your Highness. Now please leave. I have to get ready."

    We stared at each other for a moment, none backing down. Finally, she closed her eyes and nodded, "Very well.", and turned around to leave.

    Wow. She quickly accepted it.

    Should I throw her a lifeline? I could use her guilt to my advantage in the future. That is if I am alive after three years.

    Let''s try it.

    "Wait.", I called out. She stopped and looked back, "What is it?"

    "If I come back alive from the north. I might be willing to give you a chance. So until then, be well."

    Did I just see a glint of hope in her eyes? Looks like I need to adjust the brightness of my lights later.

    She curtly nodded, "Alright.", and left my room.

    "Goodbye Mordred. Be well."

    "Goodbye, your Highness.", I said with a small bow and closed the door. I leaned against it and slid to the floor, sighing in relief.

    "Pheeewww. That went well."

 05 Is Someone Talking About me?

    [Morgan]

    I stopped at the front doors of the Dawn Palace and sighed.

    "Merlin was right. He has changed."

    Mordred is no longer the pitiful kid of the past. He has become calmer and colder. He stopped calling me sister. He even started referring to Father as His Majesty.

    Maybe I shouldn''t have treated him like that.

    I shook my head.

    No point in regretting it, It is already too late.

    "I loathe you."

    Those words echoed in my head and refused to be silent.

    I clenched my fist, angry at myself. But what''s the point? The damage has already been done.

    Mordred seems to have severed his feeble connection to me. Even if he said that there is a chance for me to fix things, I know that is not entirely true.

    I sighed. What a cruel sister am I?

    All my life, I strived to be strong so that I could truly claim to be the eldest daughter of the legendary High King Arthur Pendragon.

    I aced in every aspect. The epitome of perfection. I am a genius and I worked hard to achieve the power that I currently possess.

    Survival of the fittest. That is what drives this world.

    Respect the strong, help the weak to become strong, and ignore the weakest. I created and followed this ideal and it never failed me.

    That is probably the reason why I never acknowledged Mordred''s existence. If I accepted him, it would shatter my ideal.

    In this world, where the strongest reign supreme and being the weakest is the same as being dead, Mordred would not last long.

    His death was inevitable.

    If I accepted and loved him, the pain of loss caused by his inevitable end would crush me. I will not be able to handle it.

    So wouldn''t it be better if I never acknowledged his existence? Isn''t that better than grieving for an inevitable death?

    I sighed. What a pathetic excuse, now that I think about it.

    Mordred exceeded my expectations. He persevered for so long and did everything he could so that he could be acknowledged by me and Father.

    Perhaps it is my pride or maybe it was my ironclad ideal where the weakest will not rise that made me turn a blind eye to his efforts.

    How laughable. How petty.

    For my stubborn ideals, I lost a dear brother.

    Now I am starting to doubt the very ideals that formed the foundation of my life.

    "I loathe you."

    Mordred''s words again echoed in my head and they refused to stop.

    "I loathe you."

    "I loathe you."

    Stop. Please stop.

    "Big sis? What are you doing here?"

    A familiar voice snapped me out of my thoughts. Despite the thoughts swirling in my head, a smile appeared on my face as I faced the girl approaching me.

    "Hey there, Elaine."

    Many say that I look a lot like Father. But Elaine is the spitting image of Mother. Her beauty is unparalleled in the Kingdom.

    She wore a light blue hoodie, blue jeans, and sneakers. Her wavy golden hair was tied in a ponytail and she wore a silver cross earring like mine on her left ear.

    Her fair skin almost glowed under the morning sun.

    "What are you doing here?", she asked again, looking suspicious. She looked behind me and quickly understood the situation.

    "No way. You met Mordred?", she asked me, her sapphire blue eyes widened in disbelief.

    I nodded, "It appears you have heard of his punishment."

    Elaine nodded, "Yes I did. I planned to come here and offer that guy some help."

    "Help?", I was confused.

    What kind of help is she talking about?"

    She nodded, "Yep. I would talk to Dad to lower Mordred''s punishment if he begged me on his knees."

    I was shocked by her words and stared at her.

    "What?"

    She nodded, "Yep. Exactly as you heard."

    "Oh yeah. You must''ve already met him. Tell me, big sis, did he start yelling that he won''t go? Did he beg you to talk to Dad?", Elaine looked at me in anticipation, looking forward to hearing me talk about how pathetic her brother was.

    I knew she bullied and looked down on Mordred but never imagined it would be to this extent.

    How should I answer her?

    I shook my head and replied curtly, "No Elaine. He did none of those. Mordred accepted his punishment and is now getting ready to leave."

    She began to laugh, "That''s a good one, big sis."

    But I remained silent and didn''t join her. She noticed it quickly and stopped laughing.

    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    "No way.", she said, raising her eyebrows, "He is going to the North?"

    I nodded grimly.

    "It can''t be. He will die if he goes there!", Elaine exclaimed.

    "And he has accepted it.", I said.

    She moved past me but I held her hand, stopping her.

    "Big sis! Let go of me !", she pulled against me.

    "Where are you going?". I asked.

    "To see him! I want to hear it from his mouth!", Elaine replied, struggling against my grip.

    "He will not welcome you. He told me that he hates you."

    She stopped struggling and looked at me confusedly, "He hates me?"

    I nodded, "Shouldn''t you be glad that he is leaving? After all, you hate him as well."

    Elaine was shocked by my words, "I don''t-"

    "Then tell me, Elaine Pendragon.", I spoke seriously, "Why did you always bully Mordred until he sustained injuries?"

    "Injuries?", She looked puzzled, "The royal healers patch him later, right?"

    My eyes widened when I heard her response. Did she think that Mordred was being treated the same way as us?

    "Elaine. The Dawn Palace doesn''t have royal healers."

    "Then how does he look fine afterward?"

    "Gawain heals him but most of the time Mordred patches himself up."

    A haunted look appeared on Elaine''s beautiful face, "Then all those times I saw him wearing bandages. He wasn''t wearing them to get attention?"

    She violently let go of me and ran to the entrance of the Dawn Palace.

    I wanted to call out to her but I stopped myself and sighed. Looks like she wants to see it for herself.

    Mordred Pendragon has changed.

    *******

    [Arthur]

    The doors to my office were flung open and an angry Guinevere stormed in.

    Really angry.

    "How could you do that, Arth?!"

    She stood in front of my desk and glared at me with her bright blue eyes. Her long golden hair, usually an indicator of her mood is swaying with anger.

    The simple white shirt and pants she wore complimented her slim figure. Her sleeves were rolled up, giving a good glimpse of the Phoenix tattoo on her left forearm.

    She remains young despite the passage of time. After all, warlocks age very slowly.

    But I guess it is not the right time to admire my wife''s beauty.

    "How can I do what?", I asked bluntly, fully knowing what she meant.

    She narrowed her eyes, "Please don''t play with me, Arth. This is about Mordred."

    "He is getting punished for his actions, Vere."

    "But sending him to the North to fight against the Tear? You are telling him to go die!", Guinevere yelled.

    I looked at her with a neutral face, "It''s either that or giving him over to the mercy of those three power-hungry Dukes. Also, please keep your voice down."

    She gritted her teeth, "Death by execution is a better alternative than sending him to that hell. He''s a thirteen-year-old! You are sending a thirteen-year-old to a deadly battlefield!"

    "Well, this is not the first time that is happening. Is it? Duke Karsus has sent his illegitimate daughter there too."

    "He is a cruel and cold man who never doesn''t know sadness or any other emotion. Don''t tell me you''re following his example.", Guinevere glared at me.

    I sighed, "I am not, Vere."

    "Then why send Mordred to his death?"

    I leaned back in my chair, "If he dies, then he is a weakling. At least he will be remembered as one of the brave soldiers who fought against the Tear. Better than a Failed Prince who got executed dishonorably."

    Her face went dark, "So. That''s your plan, huh? To have him killed on the battlefield? Is this about the prophecy?"

    I frowned, "Prophecy?"

    Guinevere''s sapphire eyes gazed into mine, "Don''t play dumb with me, Arth. Merlin saw something with her future sight on the day Morgause died."

    "She saw something that would affect the entire world and Mordred is in the center of it. Sending him to the North is a way of eliminating a variable. Isn''t it?"

    I looked back into her eyes. I can''t deny her reasoning but.

    "I am sending him to the North because of his actions and because he is weak."

    "Weak?", Guinevere was incredulous, "By the Incarni! He is the son of Morgause! The legendary Raven Knight. He may be weak now but he has the potential to be stronger than-", she paused before speaking.

    "Stronger than Morgan."

    One would expect someone in her position to be hostile to Gawain and Mordred, the children of the other wife but Guinevere is different.

    After Morgause''s death, she became a mother figure to Gawain and visited Mordred, despite my warnings to not enter the Dawn Palace.

    And now she''s saying that the weak Mordred has more potential than her child, the strongest of my children?

    Interesting.

    "Then if he survives three years in the North, he will surely become strong. He must unless he wants to die at such a young age."

    Guinevere narrowed her blue eyes, "But if he survives, he will be haunted by the horrors of the battlefield. Three years of constant battle against the horrors of the Tear can break his mind and spirit. At worst, he will become the very monster that Merlin warned you about."

    "If that happens. I will face him and one of us will come out as the victor."

    She raised an eyebrow, "You?"

    "Maybe?"

    I laced my fingers, "There is no change in my decision, Guinevere. It is pointless to argue further."

    Guinevere sighed, "Very well. But can I ask you some questions?"

    "Ask away."

    She crossed her arms, "If Mordred survives the Tear and maintains his sanity after those three years. What will you do?"

    "I will provide adequate compensation."

    "Even though it''s his punishment?"

    "Surviving the Tear for such a long time is a massive achievement. Punishment or not I will reward him for his achievements, if any. I swear on my name.", I declared.

    Guinevere looked fairly impressed by my decision, "Okay. Next one. What made you finally stop ignoring Mordred? Was it the incident with those three heirs?"

    I nodded, "Indeed. Those three fools slandered Morgause in front of Mordred. So he beats them up to protect his mother''s honor despite knowing that he is a weakling. How can I ignore something like that?"

    A dangerous glint appeared in the First Queen''s eyes and the air started shaking as her aura and rage leaked out, "Those brats dare slander Morg?"

    Some of the trinkets kept on the mantle of my fireplace fell due to the shaking. She looked at me, "And you did nothing except try to appease their fathers by sending your son to his doom?", she asked icily with glowing eyes.

    "Absolutely not.", I said quietly and the shaking stopped as my Bloodlust leaked out. A terrifying chill spread from me and the lights dimmed as darkness blocked them along with the window.

    Guinevere stopped unleashing her power and froze as my Bloodlust seeped into her very soul.

    "Anyone who talks ill of you or Morgause must pay the ultimate price. I have already prepared something for those three dukes and their useless children.", my voice sounded layered as I spoke those words.

    My lips curled into a small smile as I spoke with venom in my voice, "They will know the price of mocking my wife."

    "Even the Incarni won''t be able to save them."

    And with those words, my Bloodlust disappeared and Guinevere wheezed as her breath almost left her body. After a few deep breaths, she looked at me.

    "Very well, Arth. Now for my final question."

    A worried look came on my wife''s face as she asked her last question, "What will you do if Mordred develops a deep hatred for you after his return?"

    I looked out the window and thought about her question. No doubt Mordred already hates me and I have no excuse for it. I know it is on me.

    "If that is the case.", I said as the morning sun claimed its place in the blue sky.

    "I will gladly accept it all."

 06 I Play With My Blood

    [Back to Mordred]

    "Curious."

    I said while observing the rippling blob of my blood hovering over my fingertip.

    I focused on the blob with an image in my head. It rippled and morphed into a small knife. I held it in my hand. The blood knife felt quite solid.

    I aimed and threw it at my huge sliding window. The knife splattered on the clear glass and dripped onto the carpet.

    I will have to clean that up later.

    I looked at the cut on my hand I made with a piece of glass from my broken alarm and concentrated. The cut closed up and healed.

    "Very curious."

    I am kind of glad. Mordred may have a weak body but his ardor control is amazing.

    Ah yes, Ardor. Where should I begin?

    It is the energy that is found everywhere and in everything. According to scholars who are called scientists, there are even stars made up of this stuff.

    Anyway, ardor is an energy capable of bending reality. So it is the same as the magic of my previous life but much more powerful.

    All living beings have ardor and use it in a wide variety of ways. People who manipulate ardor to do astonishing things like controlling fire and lightning are called Warlocks.

    Ardor is divided into Strands based on the types of elements it can control. Currently, there are ten strands.

    Ignis controls fire, Aqua controls water, Aeris controls air, Fulgur controls electricity, and Terra controls earth.

    Lux controls light, Tenebris controls darkness, Chronos controls time, Locus controls space and Haema controls blood.

    Each strand further branches out into sub-strands. A sub-strand is closely related to the strand it branches out from.

    For example, Ice is a sub-strand of Aqua, Magnetism is a sub-strand of Fulgur, Plant is a sub-strand of Terra and Shadow is a sub-strand of Tenebris.

    A warlock must first master their strand before even beginning to use the sub-strand.

    I am quite impressed by this system of classification and also amazed by the concepts of magnetism and the complexities of space and time. Modern knowledge sure is amazing.

    Anyway.

    Every warlock has at least one strand that they awaken at the age of 7. But some individuals awaken their strands at a younger age or awaken more than one strand or even both.

    Such individuals are seen as prodigies.

    Morgan, being a prodigy, awakened two strands, at the age of 4, and Gawain awakened at the age of 5. Even Elaine awakened her strand at the age of 6.

    And Mordred?

    He awakened his strand just one week ago.

    Yeah. He is a very late bloomer.

    Well, in my current circumstance, more like a too-late bloomer.

    Looks like the three heirs insulting Morgause most likely triggered his strand, along with his rage. He had very good ardor control so it was easy to beat those fools up.

    If you wondered how Mordred beat up three possibly stronger guys with his weak ass body. Now you know the answer. And I approve of it.

    Anyway. Back to the topic of ardor.

    Based on what Mordred learned, this world has a rather simple system of power classification.

    The Ranking system.

    It applies to all beings capable of controlling ardor, including ardor animals or ardimals, ardor plants or arlants, and warlocks.

    There are nine ranks, ranging from F to X with F being the weakest rank and X being the strongest.

    Warlocks are ranked according to the amount of ardor they can control. This is measured by how much area of ardor a warlock can control.

    To put some perspective, my current self can manipulate the ardor in an area the size of my bed while my father can easily manipulate the ardor of an area encompassing half the planet.

    And that too when he is feeling lazy.

    Yeah. I am that weak.

    If I could guess my current rank, it would be intermediate F-rank and F rankers are only slightly stronger than normal people.

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    No wonder Arthur doesn''t even look at me. Even I am embarrassed by myself.

    Each rank is further divided into beginner, intermediate, and master. There is a significant power gap between beginners and masters.

    Rank progression gets increasingly difficult the higher a warlock evolves. For example, evolving from master E rank to beginner D rank is harder than reaching master E rank from the beginner phase.

    As they evolve, the wall to cross becomes higher and higher.

    So most warlocks stop progressing when they reach A-rank and they face the wall beyond that is nigh impossible to cross.

    But some continue to progress along the thorny path, pushing their bodies and minds to the limit and breaking into S-rank which is considered the limit of the growth of an ardor being.

    Beyond that is X-rank which is the realm of the gods and only a select few, chosen by Fate can enter that divine realm.

    X-ranked warlocks are regarded as divine beings on par with the gods and are immensely powerful. They are called Crowns, the rulers of the world.

    Currently, there are only three X rankers in the world, and Arthur Pendragon, my father is the most powerful among them.

    Some scientists have even theorized the existence of Rank Z ardor beings that are vastly more powerful than Rank X.

    But so far, no being has ever achieved that level.

    I sifted through Mordred''s memories. I must admit, the kid was a genius and studied hard.

    He spent most of his time in the Dawn Palace library, reading and re-reading books of history, ardor theory for beginners, and scientific books.

    What else is there?

    Ah, this is interesting.

    There are three main classes among warlocks: Spikers, Coders, and Linkers.

    Warlocks who use ardor to enhance their bodies and boost their physical abilities are Spikers. They are also capable of imbuing their weapons or bodies with their respective strands.

    Most weapon users are Spikers but there are also Spikers whose bodies are their weapons.

    Coders are warlocks who specialize in manipulating and releasing ardor using different Codes.

    They are capable of amazing feats like shooting fireballs and lightning, taming powerful ardimals, summoning spirits, healing, and other cool stuff.

    Healers, enchanters, summoners, and tamers all come under Coders.

    Hmm. So the Merlin and Morgan Lefay of my past life would be Coders in this world.

    Interesting.

    And finally, the Linkers. Just as their name suggests, they are warlocks who enhance their bodies with ardor and also use codes.

    Becoming a Linker is difficult compared to becoming a Spiker or a Coder as one has to learn the fundamentals and methods of the two classes.

    But this doesn''t mean that Linkers are rare. One out of ten warlocks is a Linker.

    A warlock is free to choose the class they feel to be best in usually by the end of their secondary ardor education.

    From what I can infer from Mordred''s memories, King Arthur is a Linker, the strongest in the world, Queen Guinevere is a powerful Coder, and my mother was one of the strongest Spikers.

    Morgan chose to be a Linker, Gawain chose to be a Spiker, and a good one at that, and Elaine recently chose to be a Coder.

    And Mordred?

    Well, he never went to school so he still hasn''t chosen his class. So it is up to me.

    I sat up and thought about it. I have good ardor control but a weak body. Even if I use ardor to enhance my body, I would still be weak.

    Sorry mum. Looks like I cannot become a Spiker. I can become one but it will take a long time. And time is not something I have at the moment.

    As for being a Coder...

    I am very intelligent and can memorize many codes but I just awakened my strand, and strand control is very important for a Coder. I can learn to control Haema but like with the case of being a Spiker, I need time.

    I sighed. Looks like Linker it is.

    Sure, becoming one is difficult but I just need to learn the basics of a Spiker and Coder for the time being. Plus I feel like it is more balanced.

    I can compensate for my weak body with codes and maintain control over Haema with a weapon and my precise ardor control.

    Also, I was a genius in my previous life and that seems to be the case in this world too. After all, most Linkers are considered to be geniuses.

    And how am I to accomplish this when I am going to a deadly battlefield? Well, there is something called an idiom that states, ''Every cloud has a silver lining.''

    If I manage to not die brutally for three years, I will be able to train my body and acquire experience. I should probably get myself a code book and learn some basic codes.

    And besides, I was previously a Knight of the Round Table and have my past memories and knowledge. So becoming a Linker will not be a hassle for me.

    I hope so.

    I sat on my bed and closed my eyes. All the new information I received upon waking up in this world has settled and my soul has fully assimilated into this body. Now I just need to get used to this modern society.

    Oh yeah. I should start packing. Merlin notified me on my smartphone that she would come to pick me up soon.

    Man, smartphones are the best. I can''t believe such a thing could exist. All the knowledge of the world is at my fingertips.

    If the people of my previous world heard about this, they would regard it as magic. Merlin will probably drool over it and Morgan Le Fay would chase me around to get her hands on it.

    I have little time left. Since all the servants in the Dawn Palace were taken away for interrogation by the Phantom Knights, there is no one to pack my stuff.

    I sighed. Morgan made things difficult by trying to help me.

    I searched all over my room for a suitcase but didn''t find even one. I stood up after looking under my bed. Perhaps luggage bags and suitcases are kept in a separate room?

    I looked at the doors of my room. The Dawn Palace is huge, according to my new memories. Will I be able to find a suitcase and pack my things by the time Merlin arrives?

    I made up my mind. Suitcase hunting it is.

    I went over to my door and was about to open it when I heard someone running outside.

    As soon as I opened it, I saw a flash of gold and someone crashed into me.

    I was taken by surprise and both of us tumbled into my room.

    "Ow. Look where you''re going.", I grumbled, and when I looked at how it was, my mood worsened.

    Another nuisance has appeared.

    "Oh, it''s you, Elaine."

 07 I Hate You

    I''ve lost count.

    The times Elaine had bullied Mordred were so many that I had lost count.

    It started when Elaine awakened her strand and since Mordred hadn''t awakened his, she started picking on him.

    In the beginning, things were not serious. It was just making fun of him and the odd sticking out of the foot to make him trip and fall.

    But it gradually changed to getting dunked in the pond and even bodily harm. I guess that was around the time Elaine started hanging out with friends, mostly kids from families of high society.

    They were probably tasked by their parents to get close to Elaine as she seemed the easiest royal child to form connections with.

    Parasites.

    Well, most of them

    Even among those rich kids, there are one or two who are decent. They were the ones who tried to stop Elaine when she and the other spoiled kids bullied me.

    But unfortunately, the majority are keen to make my life miserable. After all, a Failed Prince has no right to be happy in this world.

    I can''t remember how many times Mordred patched himself up whenever Gawain was unavailable. Most of the time, he even avoided Gawain as he didn''t want to bother his older brother.

    Mordred even learned first aid and basic medical procedures for the sole reason of treating himself after being bullied.

    Heck, his cupboard has a whole section dedicated to medical supplies.

    Elaine would always stop the bullying when Mordred gets injured or starts crying. She would run away when that happened. I don''t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

    Well, it wouldn''t matter if Elaine left, the other kids would beat the absolute crap out of Mordred in her absence.

    My body unconsciously flinched when I saw her face. An unfortunate side effect of years of bullying.

    But it didn''t matter. Seeing her face caused the bad memories of Mordred''s bullying to flash across my mind and it made my blood boil.

    The bullying stopped when Mordred awakened his strand and beat up those three heirs, who were the worst troublemakers among the lot.

    I hate how she let herself easily swayed by those arrogant brats she calls ''friends'' and her feeling of superiority over me.

    She could''ve left Mordred alone but no. She had to show who the superior one was.

    I have a sneaking suspicion as to why she bullied Mordred relentlessly. There is always a reason, I learned that from my previous life.

    A lifetime of being mistreated can make one more perceptive of people''s intentions.

    Looks like she came to see me before leaving.

    First Morgan, now Elaine. What''s next?

    King Arthur bringing farewell flowers?

    "Get off me.", I growled. I have no time for this. I need to find a suitcase.

    Elaine flinched under my glare and quickly got off me.

    I dusted off my clothes and kept my eyes on her, "What do you want? Have you come to bully me one last time?", I asked coldly.

    She was shocked by my tone. I can understand her reaction. Mordred never talked like this to her. But he is now dead.

    And this is my life now. There is no way I am going to just take in all the abuses like a punching bag.

    Elaine quickly recovered her composure and crossed her hands, "Looks like awakening your strand made you bold, Mordred."

    "Oh as if you were quite humble when you awakened yours.", I shot back with a sneer.

    Oh, that felt quite good.

    I can see her haughty look beginning to waver.

    "Looks like you heard of my punishment. Did you meet Morgan on the way? I believe she made it clear that you are not welcome", I pointed out.

    Looking at her expression I can see that I hit the spot.

    "So it is true. You are going to the North.", she said, showing me an expression that stood out in Mordred''s memories.

    An expression she made on the day her strand awakened and realized that Mordred hadn''t awakened his.

    Pity.

    Nope. You can keep your pity with you.

    "Well. Too bad. Are you sad to see your punching bag go away?", I taunted her.

    "That''s not-"

    "Then what?", I approached her, "Are you finally being remorseful?"

    Her previously confident face started to crumble and she became nervous the closer I approached her.

    I slowly pulled off the glove on my right hand and showed my open palm to her, "If that is the case, then I am afraid it is too late."

    Elaine''s eyes widened and she recoiled in horror at what she saw.

    A barely closed hole stood out in the middle of my palm with the edges of the skin surrounding looking burnt.

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    It was as if a burning spike was driven into my right hand.

    The memories of how I got the injury were vivid, and so were the screams of Mordred.

    "You remember this right?", I asked with a sneer,

    "It''s been what? Six months? I remember you running away like a coward when I first started to scream as one of your ''friends'' impaled my hand against the wall with his red hot dagger."

    "You didn''t even look back as he twisted the dagger and made this hole a permanent mark on my body. Not even my recently awakened Haema strand can heal it. The flames had cauterized the wound."

    Elaine''s body shook and she covered her mouth in horror, "But t-they said that the h-healers took c-care of you.", she stammered.

    "And you believed them?", I laughed, "How naive can you be, dear Elaine."

    I stopped laughing and my expression turned blank, "There are no healers for the Dawn Palace. Some of my injuries were treated by Gawain but most of them?"

    "I had to patch them up by myself.", I snarled.

    "Including this.", I shoved my open palm right on her face so she could properly see the hole in my hand, the stigmata that I now carry as a consequence of her actions.

    This was by far the worst injury Mordred had ever received in his years of bullying. He didn''t tell anyone about it, for fear of putting Elaine in trouble.

    I can''t believe it.

    Despite all the horrible things she did to him, Mordred cared about his sister.

    Utterly preposterous!

    Maybe it was because both of them were of the same age or because she was one of the few people who visited him, even though it was to pick on him.

    The Mordred of this world was more patient than me. He was also kinder and perhaps, more naive.

    He gave Elaine many chances to change but it was all in vain. Even when Gawain thought of confronting her, he stopped him, saying everything was okay when it really wasn''t.

    He took in all the abuse like a sacrificial lamb, hoping for a day when things would turn out better. He even hoped to be surrounded by good friends and play with Elaine as an equal.

    A foolish and false hope that he relied on to cope with his utter weakness in this cruel world of superhumans.

    How stupid.

    And even patience has its limits.

    Mordred realized this a little too late, while the illness ravaged his body and mind. His kind and naive personality crumbled to dust and revealed a hate-filled fiend and he cursed.

    He cursed and cursed until his last wheezing breath which was filled with anger and hatred.

    Out of everything he cursed in his final moments, Elaine took a major spot among them.

    "I always wondered why you constantly bullied me. I wondered this every single time I patched myself up.", I said in a low tone as I stood right in front of her, my icy gaze looking into her terrified blue eyes.

    "At first I thought it was your so-called ''friends'' who seem to be always with you. But when you are in trouble, most of them disappear. Only Henry, Fiora, and Rose remain by your side while the others suddenly have some other things to do."

    "I thought the rotten ones among them influenced you to turn on your brother. But I realized that is only a part of the reason.", I spoke quietly and my mouth curled into a sneer.

    Elaine was trembling all over, her previous attitude had collapsed and she now looked at me with only fear in her eyes.

    No arrogance, no pity, no regret. Only fear.

    Just the way I wanted.

    But she didn''t try to avert her shaking eyes but looked straight at me. Despite being scared, she is still headstrong.

    I''m impressed.

    I continued, "Your feeling of inferiority towards Morgan and Gawain, and your superiority over me caused you to look down on me and torment me."

    I cocked my head, "The feeling of trampling down the weak was exhilarating. Isn''t it?"

    "There is also one more reason for your actions.", I leaned close and whispered in her ear, "You were jealous of me."

    "What! Me? Jealous of you?", she blurted out.

    I nodded, "You wanted Queen Guinevere''s attention all to yourself."

    "But mom always gives me attention!"

    "Yes, she does. But she always cared for me like her own child, the lone prince who never felt a mother''s love. Despite the restrictions His Majesty placed to minimize entry into the Dawn Palace, she visited me.", I pointed out.

    "And you became jealous of that. Your immature mind failed to realize that you have a mother who loves you dearly. The Queen visited me because my mother was like a sister to her and she made a vow to take care of Gawain and me."

    "Your jealousy and inferiority sowed the seeds of resentment against me and they sprouted when you awakened your strand. And the rest is history."

    I slammed my right hand on the wall beside her so hard that blood trickled from my wound.

    "I''ve put up with your torment all this time in hopes of you changing your ways. In the end, I was the fool who got his hopes up.", I snarled, and my bloodlust started leaking out, chilling the surrounding air.

    "Your immaturity, arrogance, and naivety blinded you from seeing what was actually happening. You run away like a coward when things get difficult and you let yourself be swayed by the words of others.", I said, my voice filled with venom.

    "Mordred. I-", she tried to speak but I stopped her.

    "Shut up, Elaine. You made my life a living hell all these years. How dare you feel remorse now?", I spat out.

    The blood that trickled from my wound floated to my side. It morphed into a small knife and hovered right in front of her eyes. She started to panic.

    "I hate you, Elaine Pendragon.", I hissed hatefully.

    Suddenly someone placed a firm grip on my shoulder.

    "Your Highness. That is enough.", a stern female voice spoke behind me. I glanced back.

    It was Elaine''s Phantom Knight, a tall young woman with light purple hair and purple eyes.

    I looked at her for a minute and closed my eyes, "Very well. Take your hand off my shoulder."

    She quickly complied with my order.

    I stepped back from Elaine and the girl collapsed on the floor, pale as a ghost and trembling all over, her blue eyes shook with fear.

    I looked down on her, just as she looked down on Mordred all those years.

    It felt good.

    I want to believe that she might still have a small chance. But it is so small it is better to not even consider taking it. I don''t even feel like using her.

    But seeing her like this, my anger started to slowly fade. Butill remained.

    I scoffed at her pitiful state, "Consider this advice from your deceased brother. You better start rethinking your choice of friends. Henry, Fiora, and Rose are good people. You better not lose them."

    Elaine looked at me, her eyes welling with tears, "Mordred. I-"

    "Shut it. Don''t speak to me.", I didn''t even look at her, instead I looked at the Phantom Knight.

    "Escort her out of here and make sure she doesn''t set foot in the Dawn Palace.", I ordered her.

    She narrowed her eyes and was about to retort but my glare stopped her. She quickly bowed, "Very well, your Highness."

    I then walked past Elaine and stopped at the door.

    "You better not get in my sight again. Goodbye, Elaine."

    I walked away from my room as the silence was broken by the weeping of the girl I had just broken.

    I took a deep breath. I feel a little better now. I glanced at my watch and quickened my pace along the corridor without even looking back.

    Where''s that damn suitcase!

 08 This Place Is Huge!

    Just how big is this place?

    I am starting to lose my breath just by walking along the long corridors and entering numerous rooms.

    I need a suitcase, Damnit!

    I searched Mordred''s memories about the Dawn Palace.

    It was a gift to Morgause from the High King and is one of the largest buildings in the capital.

    The corridors'' walls facing outside are made up of something called electrochromic glass that can be made opaque by the simple push of a button.

    During sunrise, the glass and exterior walls reflect the light, making the whole building glow under the morning sun, hence why it is called the Dawn Palace.

    The interior is quite simple with pearl white walls decorated with paintings and framed photographs at several intervals and the ceiling embedded with light panels of different designs.

    The lights can give out a variety of colors and they also respond to sound. There are a few chandeliers hung from the spaces between the light panels but they are mostly for decoration.

    The interior temperature of the entire palace is maintained at all times by air conditioners using ardor to maintain a comfortable temperature.

    What kind of sorcery is this?

    The huge entrance hall leads to a massive atrium ringed by interior balconies of the upper floors. A massive transparent circular dome made up of electrochromic glass controlled the amount of sunlight shining on the atrium.

    The ground level of the atrium is surrounded by a lush garden and a fountain on one side.

    Two huge staircases spiraled around a massive glass and steel pillar containing two elevators in the middle of the atrium. Wide skywalks radiated from the central pillar to the upper floors.

    There are about five floors in the Dawn Palace, including the ground floor and they are massive!

    I am breath taken by the splendor and size of the Dawn Palace. Arthur went all out in making this place. He must''ve loved Morgause very much.

    Wish he had given even a small amount of that love to Mordred.

    Mordred had lived in this huge palace all his life and he spent most of his time in his room, the library, or in the huge garden surrounding the palace.

    I understand why. This building is freaking huge! I would get lost!

    If the Dawn Palace is this impressive. I don''t want to imagine how the Royal Palace would be. I am kind of glad Mordred is not allowed in there.

    As I passed the many doors along the corridor, I noticed that this place was not well maintained. The paintings have a layer of dust on them, the light panels flickered and some were dislodged from the ceiling.

    Even a chandelier was hanging at quite a precarious angle. I can also feel the temperature control being a bit wack. It is too cold for my taste.

    The pearl white paint is fading and getting dirty and there are a lot of cobwebs everywhere. The cleanest and tidiest rooms in the Dawn Palace were mine, the servants'' quarters, and the servants'' lounge.

    After a few minutes of walking, I reached the central atrium.

    "Goodness. What were those idiots even doing?", I frowned as I looked around.

    The beautiful garden that used to be the greatest attraction of the atrium is overgrown and covered with weeds.

    The fountain has stopped working and some places are reminiscent of the dense and undiscovered woods in my past world.

    "Hmm.", I have to get a suitcase but there is something here that I should see first.

    I pushed past the dense vegetation and reached the end of the atrium behind the central pillar.

    There, on the far wall hung a huge portrait. The overgrown plants and arlants didn''t cover it but grew around it to form a natural frame of greenery.

    It was as if they found the picture too beautiful to be covered.

    I stopped and gazed at the huge portrait of my mother, Morgause.

    It felt like looking at a goddess of war.

    Her sparkling emerald eyes seem like they can gaze right into your soul and the mischievous smile on her ethereal face makes you wonder if she had a prank ready for you.

    The sleek black armor she wore under a long black overcoat coat showed her graceful and athletic slim figure and her long white hair almost glowed.

    Her face radiated confidence and serenity so much it could brighten up any gloomy atmosphere and give one hope.

    I can''t help but be entranced by her beauty and grace. The way she held her black sword with confidence, the way she looked at the camera, and the way she stood for the photo.

    Everything was perfect about her.

    I reached my hand out to the photo. The only things Mordred had in common with Morgause were her white hair and beautiful face. He wasn''t strong or confident.

    In my past life, the first time I saw my mother was when I turned eleven. Despite knowing about my origins, she was never disgusted by my existence.

    I still remember her tears of happiness falling on my face as she hugged me.

    I too, was overjoyed to see her and felt the love of a mother.

    I should''ve known it was not for long.

    One day, she told me the truth about my birth. I can''t describe how disgusted I was at myself and angry at my father.

    I remember storming out of the room that day.

    Now that I think of it, her telling me the truth was inevitable. And that was the last time I saw her alive.

    During the night, she was brutally killed in her sleep by a knight who later turned out to be Gaheris, one of the sons she had with her husband, King Lot.

    He had killed her right when she believed she finally found happiness.

    I was devastated when I learned of her death and later on in my life, I hunted down the bastard who killed her.

    I showed no mercy when I hunted him down. If Gawain hadn''t stopped me, I would''ve beheaded the mongrel with my sword.

    But I was not the only one affected by her murder.

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    The king was enraged at Gaheris and banished him from the kingdom. I didn''t kill him but I made sure his remaining life was hell.

    I gave him nightmares that haunted him till his death.

    When I lay dying on the crimson ground of Camlann, I thought of my mother. Our encounter may have been brief but the days I spent with her were the best ones I ever had.

    The Mordred of this world, unfortunately, lost his mother before he even knew her. In this world, Morgause died peacefully after giving birth to Mordred.

    I looked at her portrait. Looks like Morgause lived a good life in this world. It was a tragedy she wasn''t able to see her son grow up.

    And now the son she gave birth to is dead and someone like me has taken over his body. A certain mix of feelings swirled in me as I looked at my mother in another world.

    "I am sorry Morgause. Your son was a kind child but he is now gone, I don''t know if I will be able to live in his stead. I hope you and Mordred have reunited up there and please watch over me."

    I said these words as I gazed into those bright green eyes, full of life and cockiness.

    "What in the name of the Incarni are you talking about?", a familiar voice suddenly asked behind me.

    I yelped and jumped in surprise, "What the heck, Merlin?!"

    The warlock was standing right behind me as if she just appeared from thin air.

    She didn''t hear what I just said. Right?

    I hope so.

    But judging by her expression I''m afraid that is the case.

    Merlin was about to ask me a question but seeing my panicked face she sighed, "Fine. I''ll not pry."

    She raised an eyebrow and crossed her hands, "But what are you doing here? Shouldn''t you be packing up?"

    I rubbed my head, "Yeah, about that. I was searching for a suitcase when I saw the photograph of Mum."

    Merlin was a little confused but when she laid eyes on the photograph of Morguase, her expression softened.

    "Yeah. I can understand. You look like her."

    "You knew her?", I asked.

    Merlin nodded, "She was one of my best friends and a greater prankster than me. She was the best Spiker in the kingdom and was a very amazing person."

    "And I have disgraced her legacy. I am such a weakling.", I scoffed at myself.

    "Well. That is true but who knows, maybe you''ll emerge as a stronger person after three years in the north.", she shrugged and gave me a meaningful look.

    I glanced at her, "You must be hoping I will die."

    Merlin just stared at me. She didn''t even try to avoid her gaze but I can see guilt and pity hidden well behind the ever-changing colors of her irises.

    "To be honest. That is what I want to happen.", she tilted her head, "I believe you are aware of my future vision?"

    I nodded, "Yes. You''ve made several predictions and prophecies."

    She nodded back, "You''re correct. One of those concerns you."

    "Oh?", I pretended to be surprised.

    Merlin noticed my act but ignored it, "I''m going to be straight with you. I saw the future where you destroy Arthur''s kingdom."

    I didn''t speak a word and just stared at her. Of course, I know that. I already destroyed Arthur Pendragon''s kingdom in my past life.

    I took a deep breath, "I understand where you are going, Merlin."

    She was surprised by my calm response, "This was unexpected."

    I shrugged, "Isn''t that why I was confined to the Dawn Palace all my life? His Majesty can monitor the potential danger closely."

    "But ignoring me and making my life hard is a sure way to make the prophecy come true. And now he''s sending me to fight against the Tear. Wouldn''t that result in the creation of the monster he fears if I survive?"

    Her expression wavered and avoided my gaze, "Isolating you was my idea. By the time I realized my mistake, it was too late."

    "At first I wanted to kill you soon after you were born but Arthur vehemently opposed my decision."

    A shudder passed through her body, "That was the first time I had ever felt his full anger."

    I was surprised. In my past life, my father was very keen on killing me, such that he collected all the newborn children of the land born in May, put them in a ship, and sank it, killing many innocent lives.

    I was among them but I survived and was rescued by a fisherman and his wife. They were the ones who raised me until the age of eleven.

    I learned about the May Day Massacre and realized that they died because of me. One of the reasons why I hated Arthur was because of the innocent children he cold-heartedly killed in an attempt to escape the prophecy.

    In the battle of Camlann, the weight of the children was on my sword as it clashed with Arthur''s mighty Excalibur.

    But Arthur only implemented the massacre. The mastermind for it was Merlin. He was the one who put the idea in the king''s mind.

    In that sense, the Merlin of this world seemed to be the better one. At least she didn''t kill innocent and even if she wished, the Arthur of this world wouldn''t have allowed it.

    Merlin was still speaking, "At that moment, I proposed the idea to confine you to the Dawn Palace and to keep an eye on you. I thought that when your powers awakened, I would be able to mold you into someone who will not cause the destruction of the Kingdom."

    Her eyes were downcast, "I never thought that you would be weak, and for Arthur who wished for his children to be strong, to ignore you."

    "Morgan''s indifference, Elaine''s bullying, and your confinement within the compound, all of them were a result of that decision I took on the day you were born."

    "You deserve a better life, Mordred. But because of me, it''s gone. I regret not killing you back then. If I had, you wouldn''t have to suffer this much."

    I clenched my fist in anger and glared at her but I couldn''t help but agree with her. If Mordred hadn''t been born, if he was killed, then he wouldn''t had to suffer like this.

    Even in my past life, I wondered this. If I was never born, things would''ve been very different.

    Merlin smiled bitterly and touched her eye, "Many say seeing the future is a blessing. But I say it''s a curse, one that will destroy the ones I care about."

    "Everything I did and will do is for my dear friend, Arthur, one of the few people who never saw me as an abomination."

    She looked at me, "You must never forgive me, Mordred. Despise me. But if you survive the coming three years, I swear on my life that you will have my support."

    My eye twitched with anger. How can she say that after ruining the short life of a kid? Because of her bad choices, the previous Mordred is dead and I am suffering as well.

    I glared at her, "I don''t need your help, Merlin. You''ve done more than enough."

    I turned away from her and was about to continue to look for a suitcase when she suddenly grabbed my shoulder.

    Annoyed, I looked back and froze.

    Merlin''s eyes were desperate.

    "Please Mordred.", she pleaded, "I have made so many mistakes and the regrets are pulling me into despair and insanity. Please let me do the right thing for once."

    I looked at her. Those were the eyes of a person who made a lifetime of mistakes and is on the verge of plunging into despair.

    I recognize that look, that desperation. I used to see that very expression in the mirror during my previous life.

    I narrowed my eyes, "If your eyes cause you this much misery. Wouldn''t it be better to take them out?"

    There is no way a person would blind themselves willingly. The sense of sight is precious after all.

    But she just laughed, "You think I haven''t tried that?"

    No way.

    I stared at her in shock, "You blinded yourself?"

    She nodded with self-loathing, "One day I got tired of the visions. They were driving me crazy."

    She glanced at her hand, "So I grabbed a pen from my desk and, well. It was quite bloody and painful but the visions stopped."

    Her expression darkened, "But only for a moment."

    "Hearing my screams, my assistant barged into my room and found me slumped in my chair, my eyes fully regenerated."

    I grimaced. It must''ve been quite nasty.

    She looked at her hands in disgust, "That was when I realized that I became something akin to an immortal being."

    "I''ve become like him.", she said so quietly that I barely heard it.

    Interesting. A mysterious person who seems to be immortal.

    Weirdly, the image of the blue-eyed wizard popped up in my mind.

    I observed Merlin''s expression. The hatred she has for herself and her immortality is quite evident on her beautiful face.

    She is the one who ruined Mordred''s life but she is already suffering from her actions. Living forever and being haunted by one''s regrets and demons is a cruel fate.

    Even a heinous villain like me can see that it is too much for a single person.

    I sighed, "Fine. I''ll accept your offer. You better not regret it."

    Merlin smiled after hearing my answer. She shrugged.

    "It''s fine. My life is full of regrets."

 09 I Feel Like An Imposter

    "Thank you, Mordred."

    Merlin said, bowing her head to me. I was quite surprised. Merlin rarely bows her head to anyone.

    She raised her head and her face brightened.

    "Ah yes.", she clapped her hands, "How about this? If you survive three years against the Tear. I will guarantee a seat for you in Avalon."

    I stared at her, dumbfounded. This girl switched moods in mere seconds.

    What the heck?

    "Are you serious?"

    She nodded, "Surviving the Tear for three years is more than enough to get you into the elite classes."

    "I don''t have to do the entrance examinations?", I asked incredulously. She shook her head, "Nope. Just enter the gates and you''re in."

    I can''t believe what I am hearing.

    According to Mordred''s memories, Avalon is the most prestigious organization in the entire world for training warlocks and Merlin is the High Chancellor.

    It is difficult to enter but those who do enter the hallowed grounds of Avalon are considered to be among the best warlocks in the world.

    And yes, Morgan is one of the top students in the Avalon despite her being a second-year student.

    Considering how weak I am now, There is no way I will be able to enter but if what Merlin said about me getting stronger after three years is true, there is a chance.

    I will live a life that will be very different from my past and for that, I must become stronger.

    "That sounds good.", I replied.

    Merlin shrugged, "Well. I do hope that you will die."

    Oh, you little.

    "But if you manage to survive, the gates of Avalon will be open for you.", she said with a smug smile, as if she was sure of my impending demise.

    No way I am going down like that, you damn witch.

    I sighed and continued on my search, "Yeah yeah. Whatever you say, Merlin."

    She followed me, "By the way. Aren''t you supposed to be ready?"

    "I am looking for a suitcase. Thanks to Morgan, I don''t have servants to get one for me. So I''m searching for the storage room."

    "Oh that''s all?", Merlin chuckled and snapped her fingers. I heard a door in the Dawn Palace open and a minute later I saw a suitcase flying at me in a gust of wind.

    I yelped and dodged out of the way as the flying suitcase stopped midair right where I stood and dropped to the ground.

    "Um. Thanks?", I said, picking it up.

    "Speaking of Morgan.", Merlin spoke, "Today was the first time I saw her look so shaken. And you brought the stubborn and proud Elaine to tears."

    She looked at me in wonder, "You have changed a lot, Mordred. Just what happened to you?"

    This was the third time she asked me that question.

    I just shrugged and turned to go to my room.

    "I woke up, Merlin."

    *******

    Packing up was quicker than I thought. Mordred didn''t have that many possessions in the first place.

    I glanced at the laptop on my table and contemplated whether to take it.

    Sure, it is a fascinating piece of technology, one that I had never seen. The information of the world, everything in that clamshell device.

    Plus I can watch moving pictures called videos and play curious games in it.

    But I will be going to a place where I might not get time to even sit down so maybe it''s for the best I don''t take it. Plus it was a gift from Gawain so I don''t want it to get damaged in any way.

    So I packed adequate clothes, my toothbrush, and other necessary stuff.

    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    "There, Done.", I closed the suitcase and looked around. All the memories I have of this room belonged to the Mordred of this world, so I don''t have a special connection to it.

    But this room is a witness to his life and I feel gratitude towards it.

    Yeah. I am thanking a literal room. I''m cracked.

    I stretched a bit, picked up my suitcase, and took one last look at my room before closing the door.

    I do not know if I will return to this place.

    Merlin was waiting for me outside the room. She leaned against the wall and was checking her phone. Her eyebrows perked up when she read something and then saw me.

    "Ah. Ready to go?", she asked with a smile.

    "You''re acting like we''re going on a vacation.", I said with a frown.

    "Yeah. Consider this your last trip."

    "Oh, I hate you, Merlin."

    We walked side by side to the entrance hall. I stopped at the portrait of Morgause at the atrium and said goodbye.

    "Please watch over me.", I said these words and followed Merlin.

    She looked at me, "Oh yeah. I forgot to tell you this but Gawain has just returned from his mission."

    A cold lump formed in my stomach.

    Gawain.

    The only person who was always with Mordred. He was not only his brother but Mordred''s only friend in this world.

    I was hoping to leave during his absence but now that he has returned, how do I face him? Will he notice that I am not his younger brother anymore?

    These thoughts were answered when I and Merlin reached the main entrance of the Dawn Palace. There, standing at the central fountain of the courtyard was my brother.

    He is three years older than me and he is a very handsome guy with a tall athletic figure, black raven hair tied in a ponytail, and emerald green eyes like Morgause.

    As he had just returned from his mission, he was wearing a brown long coat over a silver and gold futuristic sleek armor that complimented well with his tanned complexion.

    He is a cheerful guy who cares for his family, especially Mordred. He is quite supportive and would train and play with the youngest prince during his free time.

    He is a gifted swordmaster and has all the qualities of a commander and adventurer. So the High King would usually send him on missions to hone his combat abilities.

    In the past, he and Morgan would go on adventures but now since the latter has joined Avalon, Gawain has been doing his missions solo.

    He also has a good reputation outside the royal palace and is set to join Avalon next year.

    Gawain has a kind smile on his face most of the time but I cannot see it now. Now he looked visibly upset.

    His face lit up when he saw me and ran over to me.

    "Red!", he called out as he reached and hugged me.

    His voice hit me hard.

    Red.

    That is the name Gawain uses to call Mordred.

    "Hey there, Wain.", I greeted him with a smile, using the name Mordred used to call his brother.

    "Is it true?", he asked me, "I just returned from my mission and the first thing I hear is that you are getting sent off to the north!"

    I avoided his gaze and nodded, "Yeah. It is the truth."

    How can I bring myself to look at him in the eyes? Even in my previous life, he was a model of knightly perfection and chivalry.

    He grabbed my shoulders and looked at me, his face filled with concern, "This punishment is too harsh. Let me talk to Father."

    I shook my head, "No need, Wain. Don''t bother yourself with it and besides, His Majesty''s orders are absolute."

    "But fighting against the Tear is a death sentence! You will die! And even if you survive, you will be traumatized!"

    I smiled and shrugged off his hold, "It''s fine Wain. I am merely receiving appropriate punishment for my actions."

    "And who knows? Maybe I will emerge stronger after three years on the battlefield.", I tried to reassure him.

    "But you will be a changed person.", Gawain said in a worried tone.

    "Change is inevitable, Wain. This is my chance to prove my worth to His Majesty. So no need to worry about me.", I said, keeping my smile.

    He was quite surprised by my calm answer. It is different from how the Mordred of this world would answer.

    Both of us looked into each other''s eyes for a minute before he sighed. He understood that my mind was set on going.

    "Very well."

    He then hugged me more tightly than before and I was surprised. No one has given me this much affection except for Gawain, in my previous life and this.

    Tears welled up in my eyes and I blurted out my inner feelings, "I''m scared, brother."

    "It''s okay to be scared. You just have to pick yourself up and strive to become braver.", he comforted me and looked at me again, "Promise me Mordred, that you will return alive and well."

    I wiped my tears and nodded with a confident smile, "Of course! It''s a promise."

    He gave me a sad smile, "Forget returning from the Tear. You have already changed, brother."

    I froze at his words.

    "You were right about the inevitability of change. You''re not the Red I know anymore."

    Has he realized that I am no longer his dear brother? Is that why he suddenly stopped calling me Red?

    I can feel my heart clenching with pain. He comforted me despite knowing that.

    This guy. He really is like my brother in my previous life.

    Gawain turned to Merlin who I forgot was even there.

    "Please take care of him when he is with you.", he requested the warlock.

    She nodded with a bow, "Do not worry, Gawain. Mordred will be safe as long as he is with me."

    "Thank you.", Gawain nodded back and gave me one last hug, "Be safe, Mordred."

    I nodded.

    "I will. Goodbye, Gawain."

 10 The World Of Asteris

    It was difficult to say goodbye to Gawain.

    It almost made me want not to go. I shook my head. This is for the better.

    "You''re no longer the Red I know.", those words echoed in my head as we walked away from the Dawn Palace.

    They say the eyes are the windows to the soul. Did Gawain see that his brother is no longer in this body?

    What an interesting young man.

    "So. How are we going to the North?"

    I asked Merlin. We are quite a distance away now. I expected a car to pick us up. I can''t believe that carriages that are not drawn by horses exist.

    The future is amazing.

    Merlin gave a smug smile that was starting to tick me off.

    "We''re going by my private jet."

    I stared at her in shock, "You''re what?"

    "Being one of the most powerful warlocks in the world has its perks.", she replied and proceeded towards the private airfield of the Royal Palace.

    Even though her behavior ticks me off, I can''t help but be excited.

    I''m a guy who lived in a world and time period where flying in the sky like a bird was only possible by the magic of wizards and for those without magic, it was just a dream.

    But in this world, there are machines that can fly high in the sky and at tremendous speeds. Humans have conquered the skies! Even a normal person can fly nowadays.

    All hail the future!

    One notable thing is the incorporation of ardor with technology. This combination has led to many amazing devices and machines.

    One of them is the Infinity Engine, where ardor crystals are converted into energy to power machines and vehicles. This is quite convenient as a single ardor crystal can power anything for about two months.

    It is also beneficial to the environment as there are zero emissions and the ardor released by the crystals assimilates into the environment, further enriching and promoting the formation of new crystals.

    I am impressed by the knowledge Mordred gained during his time in the Dawn Palace. He has more knowledge and is smarter than other kids of his age.

    I internally sighed. What a tragic character.

    We soon reached the airfield and entered an air-conditioned building.

    Merlin talked to the receptionist and gestured for me to follow her to the waiting room which has a good view of the single massive runway and many hangers that contain the different aircraft of the Pendragons.

    After a few minutes of waiting, a man in a pinstriped suit approached us and bowed, "The Peregrine is ready, Lady Merlin."

    She smiled, "Wonderful.", she hopped off her couch and looked at me, "Well? Get moving."

    I followed her outside to one of the hangars.

    "Whoa!", I stopped in my tracks and gazed at the aircraft looming in front of me.

    It is a sleek medium-sized jet with swept delta wings having thrusters built into them.

    Despite their small size, the thrusters of the plane are powerful and produce a tremendous amount of thrust, all thanks to the two infinity engines inside the fuselage.

    It is also capable of vertical maneuvers as well.

    I circled the plane. It has a T-tail and a small afterburner at the rear like a jet fighter.

    With the power of the infinity engines, this plane can travel at supersonic speeds, and since the engines use the steady and powerful energy released by ardor crystals, it is quiet as well.

    Plus it is very durable, made up of an extremely strong and light material called dracium, as its durability and lightness were the same as of dragon scales.

    To put it simply, I am looking at a truly amazing piece of aviation engineering.

    Don''t ask me how I know this stuff. It''s all Mordred. The kid was a huge admirer of cars and planes.

    Also, this is the first time I''ve seen an aircraft.

    Merlin noticed me gawking at the plane in awe, "Is this your first time seeing a jet in person?", she asked with a smirk.

    "This is the first time I''ve been this far from the Dawn Palace. So of course it''s the first time I''ve seen a plane in person.", I said while giving her an accusing look.

    "No thanks to you for that."

    She flinched as my words stung her, "Yeah. Oops!"

    Without speaking another word she walked up the stairs that were just lowered. I lugged my suitcase up the stairs and took one last look at the Dawn Palace, wondering if I would return in a jet like this or in a coffin.

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    *******

    Comfy.

    The journey to the north in Merlin''s private jet was pleasant and comfy. The interior was like a mini-suite complete with a fully functioning bathroom and shower.

    The interesting thing is that the jet is completely automated. Along with keeping the plane airborne, it can also take off and land efficiently by itself.

    All of this is possible due to Ace, the most powerful AI created by Merlin, and probably the cheekiest one as well.

    "Young lady and kid, I am Ace, your friendly all-purpose AI and current pilot of the Peregrine. We''re about ten minutes to our destination to the mountains having the lovely Tear.", a soothing female voice that sounded robotic spoke to us.

    "If you look out of your windows, you will be able to see the Sleveria Duchy, the snowy lands of a middle-aged man who is addicted to squirty cheese."

    I looked at Merlin, "Squirty cheese?"

    She shrugged, "I only asked Ace to compile information about the Axial Families. How she presents them is up to her."

    "That squirty cheese part is quite specific.", I pointed out.

    Merlin sighed, "I know. I should adjust her personality."

    "Don''t you dare!", Ace protested, suddenly putting the plane in a dive.

    "Oi! Ace! Stop it!", Merlin yelled as she hit her head on the ceiling.

    Being very unfamiliar with flying tubes going at high speeds in the air, I buckled myself whenever I sat down in my seat, so I was fortunate.

    "You sure your AI Is not cracked?", I asked with an amused smile. It was good to see Merlin in pain.

    "I hope so.", she replied, rubbing her head.

    "I assure you, your Highness, that I am not cracked.", Ace replied.

    I held back my laughter and looked outside at the vast world under me.

    Thanks to the memories of the previous Mordred, I learned that I woke up on a planet called Asteris.

    Asteris revolves around a star that is slightly bigger than the sun in my previous world and the planet has two moons orbiting it.

    The planet''s surface is mostly water with three massive continents: Aria, Edith, and Karnus rising above the water along with thousands and thousands of islands scattered in the vast oceans.

    Aria is the largest of the three continents and it is completely under the rule of High King Arthur Pendragon.

    I wonder why he didn''t call it the Pendragon Empire instead of the Kingdom. Maybe an empire is a different concept in this world.

    Or maybe he''s just weird.

    Anyway.

    The Pendragon Kingdom is so immense that it is divided into duchies, each ruled by a powerful family called an Axial Family.

    There are currently ten Axial Families and all the land of the Kingdom except for the capital of Camelot is divided between them. The more powerful an Axial Family is, the more land they have under their power.

    The duchies are named after the Axial Family that rules them.

    The title of Axial Family is not fixed. New Families can rise and existing Families can fall. The Axial Families are under the High King and they must never betray him or else there will be immense consequences.

    And there were even examples of what would happen if one did rebel.

    During Arthur''s early years as the High King, a few Axial Families joined together and rebelled against him.

    Obviously, the rebellion failed and those families were utterly destroyed. Not a single traitor was left alive.

    The truly innocent ones were exiled from the kingdom and according to rumors, they are currently living normal lives in other countries and island nations.

    If you are wondering how Arthur managed to single out the innocent from the hordes of guilty traitors, it''s all thanks to his unique eyes that can see the very soul of a person.

    That is seriously amazing and unnerving at the same time. I must be careful around the High King.

    This type of competition is a smart move. Promoting competition between Axial Families prevents rebellion. Even if a few families come together for rebellion, there will be other families who will rise to stop it, all to see their opponents fall.

    And even if all the families come together for a rebellion, Arthur Pendragon is powerful enough to destroy all of them, plus he has the support of Merlin, a powerful warlock whose full power is still a mystery.

    No one knows what her rank is. Merlin is one of the biggest enigmas in Asteris.

    Many say that she is the fourth X ranker and some even whisper that she is an existence beyond X rank, a being belonging to the theoretical Z rank.

    Only the High King, her best friend knows her true power. Her origins, motives, and the reason for her absolute loyalty to Arthur is a big question mark.

    She is more mysterious than the Merlin of my world.

    In my world, he was the child of an incubus and a woman destined to be the antichrist but the timely baptism by the priest Blaise right after his birth freed the baby Merlin from the devil''s power and his destiny.

    It was due to the demonic legacy of his father that he was able to wield the power to see the past and the future which enabled him to be the powerful wizard he was known as.

    But the Merlin of this world? Not much is known about her.

    How mysterious.

    "Hello folks, this is your lovely captain Ace. We''ve just entered the foothills of Les Anciennes Mountains.", the AI''s voice spoke through the speakers.

    "We''ll soon arrive at the airfield of the Shield. So please enjoy the view. Especially you, Your Highness. This could be your last chance to see this majestic mountain range."

    "Very funny.", I muttered but looked out the window and my breath was taken away by the unbelievable sight.

    Les Anciennes. The largest mountain range in the world, with peaks that surpass the clouds. These massive landforms stretch from the eastern coast to the western coast of Aria, forming a colossal natural wall.

    This mountain range is also the widest, stretching an immense 1000 kilometers to the north. Beyond Les Anciennes is the continent of Karnus.

    I am wonderstruck and in awe of these majestic snow-capped mountains. There must be many types of ardimals and arlants in these mountains, not to mention different people and cultures.

    My smile and wonder disappeared as I realized what else this mountain range harbors.

    I got up from my seat and proceeded toward the cockpit. With a curious expression, Merlin followed me.

    The cockpit is empty since Ace has full control but is configured in such a way that Merlin will be able to regain control if something goes wrong, she is also a very skilled pilot.

    I leaned against one of the pilot''s seats and looked out the windshield. Snowflakes swirled around as they fell on the peaks, further blanketing them.

    My eyes narrowed as it appeared like a black blot among the snowy white of the mountains.

    The Tear.

 11 The Tear And The Shield

    The Tear.

    Located deep in the mountain range at the end of a massive valley between two mountains, it is a rift of pure swirling darkness torn open in space.

    An anomaly that defies reality, The Tear is ovoid, like an eye. Massive cracks spread out of the rift as if the Tear was a massive hole in the middle of the mirror called the sky.

    From what the previous Mordred learned, it is two-dimensional and stretches about a kilometer across the valley, and its highest point reaching about 150 meters high.

    "What a sinister thing.", I muttered, looking at the magnified live feed of the Tear on the windshield that also functioned as a screen.

    Merlin nodded beside me, "I always feel uneasy whenever I see that thing."

    I nodded in agreement. A feeling of dread crept up to me and my skin crawled.

    "As much as I enjoy seeing you guys getting creeped out by the Tear. We''ll soon reach the airfield. I suggest you two buckle up.", Ace said.

    Heeding her advice, I and Merlin returned to the cabin and put our seatbelts on.

    As we got closer to the Tear, I could feel its gravity pulling us toward it. I noticed trees and even rocks tilting towards the maw of swirling darkness and a perpetual chill caused me to shiver despite the temperature control of the Peregrine.

    As we got closer to the Tear, I saw something else that took my breath away.

    On the other side of the valley, facing the Tear defiantly is the Shield.

    The greatest defense of Humanity against the Tear. It is a massive wall of black stone stretched across the valley, forming something akin to a colossal dam.

    According to a book the previous Mordred read and the internet, the valley where the Tear is about 4 kilometers wide, and that''s how long the Shield is.

    The Shield is a towering structure of about 250 meters in height with a plano concave shape. The narrowest region is about 50 meters thick while the wider portions are close to 100 meters thick.

    This absurdly huge thickness not only strengthens the defense but also allows the Shield to be hollow without compromising the strength of the structure. This is because the Shield is also a fortress.

    There is a mini city inside the structure for the soldiers fighting against the horrors of the Tear complete with all the facilities required.

    The concave side of the Shield facing the Tear is covered with meter-thick dracium panels that can be slid out of place to reveal turrets of guns that use ardor to inflict huge damage.

    The top of the Shield is also lined with watch towers, lights, turrets, and ardor railguns. There are even turrets built into the sides of the mountains.

    The Shield is also equipped with the most advanced weapons system and arsenal.

    According to the book, the Shield is one of the greatest megastructures in the world and the single biggest walled structure ever created.

    There is an airfield on the outer side of the Shield. I spotted many different types of aircraft. combat helicopters, huge cargo planes, and special aerial carriers being among them along with emergency service vehicles.

    I whistled. This whole facility is damn impressive.

    My eyes shifted to the other side of the Shield and my face darkened.

    The land stretching between the Tear and the Shield may have once been a beautiful landscape of snow but now it is a deep red color.

    Even the rocks are a rusty red, the color of dried blood.

    Countless people have been killed in this place, dyeing the very ground with their blood over the years. As such, this place has a chilling name.

    Blood Valley.

    The thought of standing on the ground soaked with the blood of others made my skin crawl. It reminded me of the battlefield of Camlann where I died.

    Weird. I, who used to be covered in the blood of my enemies and was never affected by it am now finding a blood-soaked ground disturbing.

    We''ve reached right above the airfield. The Peregrine tilted as Ace lined it up with the runway.

    Soon we were gliding over the runway. The plane slowed down and we had a smooth landing.

    "That was pleasant.", Merlin remarked. She got up and took out two winter coats from her storage bracelet. She tossed one to Mordred, "Bundle up, it''s gonna be very cold."

    "Lady and kid, we just had a ridiculously good landing, all because of your spectacular AI pilot Ace!"

    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    "We have arrived at the Shield and all the best to you, Prince Mordred. I genuinely hope that you will survive these three years although your chances of survival are abysmally low.", Ace said cheerfully.

    "At least I have a chance.", I muttered, trying to be positive. I donned the winter coat and followed Merlin out of the plane. The biting cold immediately engulfed me as soon as I stepped out.

    We were in for quite a nice welcome. I saw two people walking to the plane and one of them was bloody strong, judging from his aura.

    "You haven''t changed at all, Merlin.", a deep but soothing voice spoke as I got off the last step and a wave of powerful ardor swept over me.

    The owner of the voice is a man who appears to be in his forties. He has a tall athletic frame, sharp blue eyes, salt and pepper hair that is well-kept and pale skin.

    A scar ran across the bridge of his nose and another ran diagonally across his neck.

    Despite the biting cold, he wore a grey suit with a black shirt.

    I gulped. The aura he is currently releasing is terrifying.

    Aura is a force that is released by an ardor being and is seen as a measure of how powerful the being is.

    If an ardor being releases its full aura, it shows how powerful the ardor it contains is.

    High-ranking warlocks and sentient ardimals are capable of controlling the aura they release and are even capable of completely suppressing their auras.

    It is said that a warlock or an ardimal without an aura is the most dangerous.

    According to the memories of the previous Mordred, High King Arthur''s complete aura can shake half the planet.

    It is different from Bloodlust, which is an intense desire that can even paralyze others.

    If aura dominates the will of a person and brings them to their knees, then bloodlust freezes their very soul with fear.

    And the aura I''m feeling right now from the man is pushing down on me and he''s not even fully unleashing it.

    I gulped and looked into my new memories. There is no doubt about the man standing in front of me.

    The foster brother of the High King and the first Knight of The Round Table, Sir Kay.

    The Knights of The Round Table is different in this world. They are the most powerful and elite organization on Asteris and have many A rankers and S rankers.

    Like the Phantom Knights, they are chosen by Arthur and are his best knights. And among them, Kay is one of the most loyal ones.

    The Kay of this world is different from the hot-headed and boastful Kay I knew in my past life.

    No. This Kay is the opposite. He is a calm and stern person who is well-disciplined, a true man of chivalry and nobility. He is a powerful Spiker and is one of the most powerful sword masters in the world.

    His achievements are too many to count. He is the master and commander of the Shield, protecting the world from the horrors of the Tear for close to ten years.

    Oh. And he''s my uncle.

    I don''t know if I should be glad or terrified.

    Merlin gave a hearty smile, "I should say the same to you, Kay. Although I must say you look too serious nowadays."

    Kay just sighed, "And your tongue is still the same."

    He then looked at me, "Hello Mordred. It''s been a long time."

    I froze in my tracks. Not because of the cold of the mountains or the chill of the Tear, but of his sharp gaze.

    Previous Mordred''s memories of him rushed into my head. Unlike Arthur, he didn''t ignore Mordred but also didn''t show any particular affection towards him.

    He was the one who introduced Mordred to the art of the blade. Kay''s strict and serious demeanor including the fact that he rarely smiles, made him a scary person in the eyes of little Mordred.

    I looked into his blue eyes and gulped.

    This guy is still damn scary.

    I calmed myself down and bowed to him, "Greetings uncle. Good to see you again.", I spoke in a respectful tone.

    Kay kept his gaze on me, "They say you were a pathetic child lacking in etiquette but that''s not the case here. You have changed."

    I looked him in the eyes, still calming my tense nerves, and replied, "You can say I have matured, uncle."

    He narrowed his eyes, "Call me commander, now that you are going to be part of the Shield."

    He released part of his aura and brought me to my knees.

    This could be a test. I kept my gaze on him and released my aura. Even though it was weak, I was able to not have my face planted to the ground.

    Kay showed no reaction but I can see it in his eyes. He was mildly surprised that a weakling like me could even release an aura.

    He looked at Merlin, "Are you sure about this, Merlin? You have already lost Arthur''s trust because of the boy."

    Hold on. What?

    Arthur doesn''t trust Merlin? And it''s connected to me?

    I looked at Merlin. Was it the incident with Arthur when I was born, the time when he got really angry with Merlin?

    She didn''t meet my gaze but gave Kay a dangerous smile. The already low temperature dropped further and I could feel Merlin''s bloodlust starting to leak.

    "I am well aware of what I am doing and the consequences. Everything I do is for Arthur and his kingdom. So don''t concern yourself with it.", she said in a cold tone while maintaining her smile.

    Kay closed his eyes and sighed, "Very well. It''s fine as long as you''re aware."

    He turned to the young man beside him, "Felix. Guide Mordred around the Shield and get him prepared."

    The young man named Felix nodded with a smile, "Very well, Commander."

    Kay looked at Merlin, "Shall we catch up with a pot of tea?"

    Merlin nodded, "Alright."

    She looked at Mordred and said, "Good luck. kid. You''ll need it."

    She went ahead while humming a tune.

    Kay gave me one last look, his blue eyes looking into mine.

    "Mordred, as the commander of the Deathwalkers, I welcome you to the Shield. I hope you survive at least a day."

    With those delightful and inspiring words, he turned around and followed Merlin.

 12 Deathwalkers

    Bloody Massive.

    Now that I am standing in front of the Shield, I am overwhelmed by the sheer scale of the structure that is taking up my entire field of vision.

    It just keeps on rising into the sky, a colossal black wall that went for kilometers on both sides. I could see many cameras dotted along the wall and guards staring straight ahead.

    The main entrance to the Shield consists of huge black double doors, each at least 5 meters tall. In the middle, they bear the insignia of the Pendragon royal family.

    A draconian serpent biting its tail, forming a ring.

    An ouroboros. It symbolizes the eternal rule and absolute power of the Pendragons.

    I looked at the insignia. It is the symbol of the family that I am now a part of, a family of the person who never acknowledged me in my previous life and the one who ignores my very existence in this new life.

    It may be a design, but I feel intimidated by the serpent. I can feel its eye staring at me as if gauging whether I am a true Pendragon.

    As I was getting the evil eye from a symbol, the young man whom Kay had just spoken to approached me, his cyan-colored hair swaying in the wind.

    "Hey there! I am Felix Valion. It''s an honor to meet you, Your Highness."

    The young man greeted me with a smile and an enthusiastic handshake as he led me toward the main door of the Shield. He has to be the first person who ever saw me as a Prince.

    Sure, Gawain loves me as a brother and Queen Guinevere is nice to me but this is different. This kid named Felix sees me as the second prince of the Pendragons.

    I have no idea how to respond to this enthusiasm, "Uh. Same to you, Mr. Felix.", I said with a nervous smile.

    Felix chuckled, his bright green eyes twinkling with mischief, "Just call me Felix. I''m only a few years older than you."

    He is a tall young man with a slim figure and fair skin. I noticed his hands were scarred and rough.

    Despite the near-freezing cold of Les Anciennes, he wore a crimson full-sleeved high-waist jacket over a full-sleeve black vest, a combat belt with spaces for daggers and swords, black slacks with crimson accents, and black combat boots.

    I noticed two black stripes on the left sleeve of his jacket.

    Wow. If this is the uniform of the Shield, then I must say that Kay has good taste in fashion.

    Felix noticed me looking at his uniform and gave a smile, "If you''re wondering how I am fine in this cold, Deathwalker uniforms are heavily enchanted."

    "They are highly durable, although not on par with armors used by knights, they''ll make sure to keep you alive. They have good resistance against ardor attacks, regulate temperature and they are auto-fitting."

    "And the best part? They''re even self-cleaning! So you don''t have to worry about cleaning blood off your uniform after every battle.", he said those grim words with the most cheerful smile.

    "Okay? That sounds reassuring.", I said, my confidence level decreasing along with the temperature.

    Felix placed a hand on his chest, "I''ll be your guide in the Shield and will help you get ready for today''s battle."

    I was taken aback, "Today? I have to fight immediately?"

    He gave a sympathetic smile, "Sadly, yes. All recruits are to be on the battlefield as soon as they step foot in the Shield."

    "We receive recruits every week and most of them arrive in batches. They are given a briefing by a high-ranking Deathwalker and are led to processing. After that they are sent to the other side.", Felix explained.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    He continued, "There are also recruits like you who arrive individually, usually from important families or talented individuals or both.

    For them, a well-experienced Deathwalker becomes a guide and helps them through processing and sends them to the battlefield."

    I nodded half-heartedly. I already don''t like the sound of ''processing''.

    Felix looked at me expectedly, "You look like you have a lot of questions"

    "Yes. A lot.", I replied.

    "Fire away."

    "What do you mean by Deathwalkers?", I asked as we stopped in front of the main doors.

    "That''s what we are called, your Highness.", Felix replied.

    "What do you mean by that?"

    He shrugged and said, "We''re the ones who venture beyond the wall, risking our lives to protect the world from the dangers of the Tear. That''s why we are called Deathwalkers. We literally walk toward Death."

    "Deathwalkers.", I said, "That sounds cool."

    Felix nodded with a smile, "I know, right?"

    The huge doors slowly slid open but before we entered something caught my eye.

    On the airfield, I saw two aircarriers. One was smaller than the other and the storage areas of both were getting loaded with long black boxes.

    An uneasy feeling swept over me as I noticed the identical nature of those boxes and the sheer number of them.

    Surely they can''t be...

    "Hey, Felix.", I called out to the young man. "What is it, your Highness?", he asked with a smile and noticed where I was pointing at.

    "Are those?", I looked at him. His smile had vanished into a grim look.

    He nodded, "Yes, your Highness. Those are the remains of fallen Deathwalkers."

    Dread enveloped me as the workers finished loading the black caskets into the bigger craft and moved away as its huge engines powered up.

    "That''s a lot of caskets.", I said, unable to process the words.

    Felix took a deep breath, "They were the ones who fought yesterday."

    I just stared at him in disbelief, "You''re joking, right?"

    He sighed and gave a sad smile, "I wish I was. This is our reality, your Highness."

    He nodded to the craft that was slowly getting off the ground, "That is Charon 1, it is used to transport the dead to the Tomb."

    "The what?"

    Felix pointed to a mountain a good distance away from the valley. It was partially concealed by the clouds, giving it an eerie look.

    "Engineers and Terra warlocks worked together to hollow out that mountain to form the Tomb, a facility to bury or cremate fallen Deathwalkers."

    I looked at the Tomb with a curious expression. If I die, will my body be taken by the royal family or will I be loaded onto that craft and taken for burial in that cold mountain?

    "Their remains aren''t sent to their families?", I asked Felix.

    "Well, most Deathwalkers in the Shield are orphans and those abandoned by their families. They are taken to the Tomb."

    "For those with families, we inform them of their loved one''s demise. If the family wishes to bury the fallen themselves, we send the casket to them. If they prefer the Deathwalker to rest in the Tomb, we honor their request.", he explained.

    A lump formed in my throat. An entire mountain had to be carved to bury the dead. The death toll is ridiculous. Just how dangerous is the Tear?

    Felix nodded to the second craft, "That is Charon 2. We use that to transport fallen Deathwalkers to their families."

    The feeling of dread worsened in me. The urge to flee this place screaming like a little kid grew stronger.

    Unfortunately, the main doors opened and warm air rushed over me.

    "Shall we enter, your Highness?", Felix asked me, looking at my expression. I must be looking quite scared to him right now.

    To enter or not to enter?

    Unfortunately, In the end, I don''t have a choice.

    I took a deep breath to calm myself down. The air felt like tiny icicles assaulting my mouth but it calmed me down and the chill distracted me.

    I nodded, "Alright. Let''s get in. Also, please call me Mordred."

    "But your Highness..", he started to speak but I stopped him.

    "It''s fine. Besides.", I gave a small smile, "You allowed me to call you Felix. didn''t you?"

    He was taken aback by my response for a moment before he broke into a smile, "Very well. Nice to meet you, Mordred."

    He held out his hand and I shook it for the second time. This is the first time someone other than Gawain was so friendly with me and he also seems like a genuine guy.

    I wonder. Could this be the first friend I make in this world?

    "Now then, Mordred.", Felix turned around, "The commander has already welcomed you but on behalf of the Deathwalkers. I welcome you to the Shield."

 13 Im Not A Lass

    "Hey, Felix. Who''s the lass? A new recruit?"

    The young man relaxing on the sofa asked as we entered the reception area of the Shield. He had obsidian black hair and caramel-colored skin.

    He stretched out his tall and lean frame and his coffee-brown eyes gazed at us. He had the same Deathwalker uniform as Felix, only he had a single stripe on his sleeve.

    I only glanced at the Deathwalker before taking in the sight of the modern reception area.

    This is not the first time I have seen a reception area. We had something similar to it in my previous world.

    It''s called an antechamber and the concept of a reception area is not an alien concept, I always encountered them in the inns during my travels as a knight.

    So this is a modern antechamber or should I say, a reception room.

    It is a fairly big room and rather comfy. The white walls brighten up the room along with the light panels in the ceiling.

    A pearl-white reception counter with a computer monitor was situated at the end of the room. It had the insignia of the Pendragons embossed on it.

    A comfortable sofa set along with a coffee table was placed in the middle. The young man was relaxing on the bigger sofa.

    There are two similar-looking sliding doors, one behind the counter and the other to the side, opposite the Deathwalker relaxing on the sofa.

    Quite unexpected for a fortress.

    Felix stifled a laugh, "Damien. The lass with me is a guy."

    Damien almost fell off the couch in surprise, "No way.", he looked at me closely, "He''s too good-looking to be a guy."

    "What''s your name kid? And why are you here? The Shield doesn''t usually allow visitors.", he inquired, genuinely confused by my appearance.

    Felix cleared his throat, "Damien. This is Mordred Pendragon."

    "You mean the Failed Prince?!", the Deathwalker fell off the sofa this time. His face then paled when he realized the words he spoke.

    "Please forgive me, your Highness. It slipped out of my mouth.", he hastily rose and bowed his head.

    My eyebrows furrowed. Is that what I am known as outside the Dawn Palace?

    I am quite used to having a terrible reputation, I was a villainous knight after all. But already having a bad reputation on the first day of waking up into a second life?

    Even I must admit that it is pretty concerning.

    I gave a small smile, "It''s fine. I was expecting something like this."

    It appears my words made things more awkward.

    "So what are you doing here, your Highness?", Damien asked, looking sheepish.

    "He is going to be a Deathwalker like us.", Felix answered for me.

    "Seriously?", Damien was shocked, "What did he do to be sent here?"

    It was my turn to be surprised, "You haven''t heard the news?"

    The beatdown of the three heirs was a hot topic and the news agencies were having a field day with it, much to the annoyance of the High King.

    Almost the entire Kingdom knows about the incident.

    Felix explained to me, "The Shield usually doesn''t receive news from the mainland. It is to ensure that we are not distracted by the happenings of the outside. Our only concern is to battle the horrors of the Tear."

    "And what is news to the dead?", Damien gave a dry chuckle, "Our only sources of news are messages with our loved ones and the recruits the Shield receives."

    "So what did you do, you Highness?", the Deathwalker asked, his eyes twinkling with curiosity.

    "Can I answer that?", Felix asked me. I just shrugged, "Suit yourself."

    With a satisfied grin, "Mordred is sentenced to serve three years in the Shield for brutally beating up the heirs of House Sleveria, House Lear, and House Orvis.

    Damien whistled, "Whoa. That''s big. I am surprised that you are not executed."

    He gave me a concerned look, "Although execution is much better than being a Deathwalker."

    My already plummeting confidence has hit an all-time low and is going even lower.

    "Just how bad is it to be a Deathwalker?", I asked nervously.

    Damien''s and Felix''s eyes darkened suddenly and the atmosphere felt suffocating.

    "The path we walk is a dark one, your Highness. Sometimes we wonder if we are the monsters.", the former said in a grave tone.

    The previous dread descended on me, "What do you mean by that?"

    "You''ll soon find out."

    "Stop it, Damien. You are scaring him, he''s still a kid.", Felix placed a hand on my shoulder and frowned.

    The disturbing mood suddenly lifted when Damien brought his smile back.

    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    "My apologies, your Highness. A few bad memories surfaced in my mind. I hope you forgive me.", he said, bowing his head.

    I was surprised by this shift of demeanor, "It''s fine. Also just call me Mordred."

    "Very well, Mordred. I am Damien Fray. It is an honor to meet you.", he introduced himself. We shook hands and he gestured to a door to the side.

    "You''ll have to undergo processing before entering Necropolis.", he smiled, "Welcome to the Shield, Mordred Pendragon. I wish you luck and also hope that you survive."

    "Thanks for the cheerful welcome.", Felix rolled his eyes and led me to the door, "Let''s get out of here before he starts scaring you again."

    "Honestly, you are a bad receptionist.", he looked back at Damien.

    The Deathwalker just shrugged, "You''re right but unfortunately I got this shift."

    He nodded, "See you on the battlefield, Felix."

    Felix nodded back, "Same to you as well."

    He then smiled at me as the door slid open, "Let''s get you processed, Mordred."

    I gulped, "I don''t like the sound of that."

    "Relax. It''s just registering you as a Deathwalker in the Shield''s system and providing you with the uniform and equipment.", Felix reassured me.

    Feeling a bit relieved, I followed him into the corridor that stretched out in front of us. It had white walls and light panels on the ceiling. A grey carpet stretched out the entire length of the corridor and it was very soft and comfortable to walk on.

    We soon reached another sliding door, it opened revealing a huge white room containing many cylindrical pods, each the size of a tall person.

    There seem to be about fifty of them and they take up most of the room. Behind the pods are what appear to be two massive doors without handles.

    A long table on which are several monitors and buttons seems to be the control center for the pods, along with a few rolling chairs for the ones operating them.

    What appears to be rows of white lockers were behind the chairs.

    "Welcome to the processing room.", Felix turned around and looked at me, "Alright then, strip."

    I blinked, "I''m sorry?"

    He sighed and elaborated, "Take off your clothes."

    "Yeah, I know that. Why?", I asked, instinctively holding onto my winter coat, I didn''t even realize I had it on, such was the dread I was feeling.

    "Unless you want to be disabled for life, take off your clothes and get in one of the pods.", Felix said.

    "I assure you, it is not anything weird. This is standard procedure for every new Deathwalker. Even I went through this, so I can understand your reaction."

    I looked at him warily, "So no funny stuff?"

    He shook his head, "No funny stuff. Goodness, just what were you thinking I would do?"

    "You don''t want to know.", I said as I took off my winter jacket.

    "Are you really a thirteen-year-old?", Felix wondered aloud. He then shrugged, "If you''re the shy kind, I can turn around and close my eyes until you enter the pod."

    "No, It''s fine. I don''t have anything to hide", I said and began to take off my clothes.

    Soon my clothes were folded neatly on the table and I stood stark naked in front of Felix who was shocked by my appearance.

    I can understand his reaction.

    Despite the exercises and physical training this world''s Mordred underwent in the past, his body was, well...

    Delicate.

    As expected from the diet he was having for all those years. One cannot gain and develop muscles with just exercise, a balanced diet with lots of essential nutrients is necessary.

    My body is skinny but with some muscle development. Faint scars could be seen on my fair skin, the results of previous Mordred pushing his weak body beyond the limits and years of bullying.

    "Didn''t know even royalty can experience hunger.", Felkix said and he became further shocked when I removed my glove, revealing the terrible hole in my hand.

    I gave a bitter smile, "The weak do not have the right to live comfortably in this world."

    He gave me a solemn look, "Must''ve been hard for you."

    His eyes wandered downward, specifically to my ''sword''.

    And what a mighty sword it is. Even I was surprised when I first saw it in my bathroom.

    Felix whistled, "Very impressive, Mordred. You will be very popular with the ladies."

    I frowned, "I''m thirteen."

    He grinned, "Not in a few years."

    I sighed, "Shall we continue?"

    "Ah yes!", Felix moved to the table and sat down in front of the monitors, "Please enter a pod."

    I walked to the nearest one and its side slid open. I entered it and it closed behind me. It is spacious inside and designed to not be claustrophobic.

    "Can you hear me, Mordred? There''s a button which you can use to speak", Felix''s crisp voice sounded from the speakers inside the capsule.

    I pushed the button and spoke, "Loud and clear, Felix."

    "Cool. Now this is a simple procedure. The pod will scan you and mark your whole body with an ardor signature that will only be unique to you. Think of it as your own Deathwalker mark that can be used to recognize you. With that, you''ll be a certified Deathwalker in the Shield.", Felix explained.

    "Just relax your body. This will only take a few minutes."

    "Understood.", I replied and relaxed as the pod buzzed to life, lighting up the inside.

    I gulped. I have no idea what this bizarre contraption is doing. I am literally exposed and at the mercy of this machine.

    <Commencing scanning of the subject>

    A metallic voice spoke and a thin beam of blue light ran over me, taking in all the details of my body. It scanned me for a minute before blinking out with a click.

    <Scanning complete. Details of Deathwalker Mordred Pendragon will be added to Shield system archives>

    <Initiating application of unique ardor signature>

    My skin tingled as a wave of ardor washed over me. I can feel it seeping on my skin, like a second skin on my body.

    The side opened and I stepped out, feeling as if I was baptized in some way.

    Felix was waiting for me, a fresh set of Deathwalker uniform neatly folded in his hands.

    "That was weird.", I remarked as I put on my boxer shorts. I pointed to the pods, "So usually the recruits arrive in groups right?"

    "Yeah."

    "And the group is mixed, like guys and girls?"

    "Ah.", Felix understood what I was meant to say.

    "Since you''re wondering. We have another processing room identical to this. The female recruits are sent there along with a veteran female Deathwalker."

    "And for the really shy ones, they can take off their clothes in the pods.", Felix shook his head, "But if you ask me, changing in the pod is a serious hassle."

    With a smile, he offered the uniform to me, "There you are Mordred, you are now one of us, a Deathwalker."

    My fingers hovered over the uniform, a hurricane of emotions swirled in me and I was unsure of what I should feel

    I shook myself and steeled my mind. This is my new reality and there is no escaping it. Like it or not, I must accept it.

    With a bitter smile, I accepted my new uniform and identity.

 14 The Horrors Of The Tear

    The Deathwalker uniform is fantastic.

    Not only does it have the benefits that Felix spoke about. It is also auto-fitting and is very comfortable to wear. It fits snugly on my delicate frame.

    "You look quite dashing.", Felix remarked and handed me a bracelet.

    "This is a multipurpose device. It monitors your condition, provides adequate spatial storage for your weapons and items, teleports you to the battlefield, and connects you to the Shield''s AI, Minerva. It even tells time."

    As I put on the bracelet, he spoke, "This might sting a bit."

    "What?", I blurted out before a searing pain caused me to double over and yell out.

    I looked at my left forearm where a crimson laser beam shot out from the side of the bracelet and carved something on my skin.

    I gritted my teeth and the smell of burning flesh wafted into my nose as the laser engraved a symbol on my arm.

    It was the draconian serpent of the Pendragons coiled around a shield and baring its fangs.

    "Mmm. I feel like having a barbeque for dinner.", Felix remarked as he waved the smell of my burning flesh away.

    "What the hell was that?", I grumbled, gingerly touching the symbol burned onto my skin. It stung like crazy.

    Felix had a sympathetic smile on his face, "That brand shows that you belong to the Deathwalkers."

    "A tattoo would''ve been a better alternative."

    "Tattoos fade over time. The things we do are irredeemable in the eyes of others. This brand will show them that we had no choice. The things we did, we did to live."

    He pointed at my brand, "With that on your arm, no one will come after you for the things you will do at Blood Valley."

    "What do you mean by that? What things will I do?", I asked, the previous feeling of dread creeping back into my heart.

    A melancholic and haunted look passed over Felix''s face, "You''ll know soon enough.", he said with a strained smile.

    "Ah yes!", he clapped his hands as if suddenly remembering something.

    "The brand also shows how experienced you are.", he pulled back his jacket sleeve and showed me his arm.

    My eyes widened in shock. His arm was riddled with scars and among them was his brand.

    It was identical to mine but with one difference. Right underneath the shield are two vertical stripes burned into his skin.

    "I''ve been a Deathwalker for two years.", he said proudly.

    "Two years? That''s unbelievable! You''re a veteran among veterans!", I exclaimed.

    "Yep! Keep up the praise.", Felix said with his head held high.

    "But how?"

    He gave me a vacant look, "Just pure luck, Mordred. I am just a lucky guy.", glancing at his brand he said, "And I feel like my luck is running out."

    He shook his head and walked over to the back of the room to the huge handleless doors.

    He placed his palm on one of them and slid them open, revealing a wide variety of weapons arranged neatly in order.

    "Whoa.", I walked over and stood beside Felix, my eyes fixed on the feast of weapons in front of me.

    There are swords of different shapes and sizes, polearms with different types of blades and pointy things at their tips, and different types of bows and crossbows. Staffs, orbs, and catalysts of different types glowed with ardor.

    Massive scythes, double sickles, daggers arranged like dragon teeth, gauntlets of different designs and sizes, and many other weapons lay before me. They looked basic but all were made of the same black metal.

    My eyes fell on a curious weapon. It looks like a projectile launcher that can fit in one''s hand.

    I''ve searched my new memories and found out what they are.

    ''So this is a gun.'', I thought, looking at the weapon in wonder. I can''t believe humans have created such weapons that can shoot small metal projectiles at high speeds.

    And there are different types of them. Pistols, assault rifles, sniper rifles, shotguns, and a lot more.

    If I had these bad boys in Camlann, I would''ve easily won the battle. Although, the image of my fully armored self entering the battlefield guns blazing in glory is quite weird.

    Felix noticed my gaze and remarked, "Guns are quite uncommon among Deathwalkers or warlocks in general."

    "Why is that? They seem quite useful.", I looked at him.

    He nodded, "They are an excellent choice if you have good aiming and excellent ardor control for nice damage. They use special ardor absorbing bullets and there is the problem of reloading unless you''re using a strand gun, but those are expensive and custom made."

    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    "You can have custom-made weapons?", I asked.

    "Indeed.", Felix nodded, "We have a huge workshop and an impressive state-of-the-art arsenal in the Shield. But they are only available for newbies after they survive seven battles."

    He waved at the weapons in front of me, "Until then, you are stuck with these guys or the ones bought from the stores."

    He smiled, "Don''t worry. They may seem basic but are high quality and made of shadow steel or schattium, perfect for the foes we are facing against."

    "I see.", I nodded and looked at the weapons again. Since I am a Linker, my weapon choices are versatile.

    No, I am not using a gun. Sure, I have amazing ardor control, have modern knowledge of the weapon, and have good aim but I have no bloody idea how to use it.

    I''ll probably shoot myself instead of the enemy, giving the enemy a funny story to tell as well.

    Nope. Guns are out.

    My eyes went to the swords. The previous Mordred had practiced with the sword when he was younger.

    Plus, in my past life, I had mastered all types of weapons but I preferred the sword and my greatest weapon was a sword as well.

    Clarent, a sword whose power rivaled that of the mighty Excalibur. The sword of peace that I used to gravely injure Arthur at Camlann.

    I had heard of the existence of Clarent in this world along with the existence of the other weapons used by Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table.

    I must get Clarent in this life. I will make sure of it.

    But now, considering my weak condition, I doubt I will even be able to wield a short sword.

    So swords are out. And I''m not even thinking about polearms, scythes, and sickles. Staffs, wands, and catalysts would''ve been a good choice if I were purely a Coder.

    But I am not. I am a Linker.

    After about five minutes of deliberation and Felix standing awkwardly beside me I chose my weapon.

    Well, weapons.

    I held the two jagged daggers in my hands and felt them. The blades are quite sharp, they are a bit heavy but fit my hands just right.

    I smiled. Daggers were my second most preferred weapon. They may have low range but are far deadlier than swords if in the right hands.

    I did some practice swings and they felt good. I am quite glad that I can use my skills in this new smaller body. A little getting used to but I can manage.

    Felix whistled, impressed by the handling of two sharp things in the hands of a thirteen-year-old.

    "My. You seem quite skilled. Were you trained in weapon arts?"

    "I was trained in the royal palace.", I replied. It was kind of the truth.

    "I see. I guess that''s all.", he crossed his hands and gave me a proud look, "Now you''re looking like a Deathwalker. You even have that scared look on your face. Nice."

    "Minerva will show your rank through the bracelet. In case you''re wondering, I am a B ranker.", he said with a smug smile.

    I nodded, "That explains how you have survived for two years."

    He just shrugged, "I told you, Mordred. I''m just lucky. There are Deathwalkers stronger than me, Absolute monsters. One of them is about-"

    Before he could finish speaking, a siren blared all around us. It resonated in the walls and overwhelmed my ears.

    Felix turned serious, "It''s time."

    "Time for what?", I asked nervously. Despite knowing what it was, I asked nonetheless.

    "Battle.", he said and pulled a bud-shaped object out of his pocket, "Put this in your ear. It is a communication device directly linked to me. I will be able to contact you through it."

    I put the earbud in my ear and looked at Felix in confusion who was reading a message on the projected screen of his bracelet. I saw relief wash over his face.

    "Will you not be there with me?", I asked.

    He shook his head, "Unfortunately, no. I am assigned to railgun duty. I am not complaining though."

    His eyes furrowed as they fell on my bracelet, on which a green light was blinking. I can make out a beeping noise but it was drowned by the constant siren.

    "By the Incarni!", he muttered and placed a hand on my shoulder.

    "Listen Mordred! You are going to be teleported to the battlefield!", he said, raising his voice above the deafening siren

    "Oh.", I simply said, dread completely enveloping me.

    Felix shook me lightly, "Listen! There will be a Captain assigned to the newbies! Follow their instructions carefully! No matter what you do, do not die!"

    He smiled as the light blinked rapidly and I felt a tingle on my wrist, "I shouldn''t be telling you since I am supposed to be a guide! But do whatever you have to do to remain alive. Survive Mordred!"

    "Good luck, kid!"

    With those words and a kind smile, Felix disappeared as a blinding green light enveloped me.

    The next thing I knew, I was outside and standing on the crimson snow. I felt woozy and stumbled.

    So this is teleportation. Not a pleasant experience, in my opinion. I shook my head and noticed that I was not alone.

    I was surrounded by Deathwalkers, many of the ones around me looked nervous and scared. They must be my fellow newbies.

    Some distance away I saw Deathwalkers who all had determined looks on their faces. They must be the more experienced ones.

    Everyone here had different weapons in their hands and a perpetual chill hung in the air despite our enchanted uniforms.

    "Listen up newbies!", a tall and athletic-looking Deathwalker with a diagonal scar across his face yelled out.

    I and the others turned to him. Seeing that he had everyone''s attention, he placed a hand on his chest. He yelled out.

    "There is no time for pleasantries! I am your captain today, Listen carefully to my instructions during the battle and make sure that you don''t die!"

    "Do not underestimate the enemy and do not get in the way of your fellow Deathwalkers!"

    "And above all. Try to survive. Good luck! You will need it!"

    He turned around just as multiple bells resonated in the valley.

    "By the Incarni. They''re here.", I heard him say.

    A cold wind blew over us from the Tear and the darkness in the eye-shaped hole in space swirled and rippled.

    "Ready your weapons!", the captain yelled.

    I gripped my daggers and assumed a stance. My previous dread vanished and I felt calm.

    I have been on many battlefields in my past life and maybe it''s because of that, my mind became focused and calm and my battle stance came naturally.

    Panicking on the battlefield will lead to death. The words I spoke to myself came back.

    That''s when I saw them.

    The Horrors of The Tear.

 15 Survive

    Daemons.

    Humanoid faceless beings made of swirling shadows that emerge from the fathomless darkness of the Tear.

    I gulped. The previous Mordred had read about them and even saw illustrations of these beings. But none of them comes even close to the horror of the real ones.

    Hundreds of them slowly walked out from the Tear in perfect formations. Each mirrors the other''s movements perfectly as if they are controlled by a singular mind.

    They carried weapons of old. Different types of bladed weapons, massive bows whose arrows are the size of spears. Some even had staffs topped with orbs that glowed an eerie purple.

    But the scariest thing about them is the silence.

    The daemons made no sound as they slowly approached us. No clanging of weapons, no battle cry, no chanting, not even the crunch of snow underneath their feet.

    It was pure silence. An almost deafening silence.

    It was as if they were ghosts.

    I looked at my hands and realized they were trembling slightly.

    I understand why. This is a new and unknown enemy I am facing. I had battled barbarians, knights, warriors, and even a few mythical beings.

    But none of them compared to the creatures that were slowly approaching me. The hairs on my neck stood up, my skin crawled, and every cell in my body was screaming at me to get out of there.

    I gulped and took deep, slow breaths. Calm down. This is a battle. Panicking will only lead to an early demise.

    The daemons kept on slowly pouring out of the Tear. With each step they take, I can feel fear and uneasiness spreading through the ranks of Deathwalkers.

    Even the experienced ones had grim expressions.

    "Listen up, newbies!", our captain called out, "Strike the heart and immediately get away from those creatures after dealing the final blow!"

    He turned to us, "Am I clear?!"

    "YES, SIR !", the newbies, including me, shouted.

    "Ready weapons!"

    I raised my daggers and took a stance, crossing them in front of me. The daemons are still far away from us.

    "I don''t get it. Why do we have to ready our weapons now?", the newbie beside me scoffed.

    He just waved his sword at the approaching enemy, "I mean. They are slow and are so far away. It will take some time for them to reach us.", he said with renewed confidence.

    "They''re not such a big deal."

    Famous last words.

    It happened in the blink of an eye.

    A daemon knelt beside me; its greatsword cleaved the newbie in half. His confident smile, now split, was frozen on his face. That''s when I noticed something else.

    I was bathed in his still-warm blood.

    There was a shocked silence as everyone stared at the daemon, slowly raising its head and getting up.

    And then the screams shattered the silence.

    The newbies scattered away, screaming in terror. The ones covered in blood, like me, were too scared to move and were frozen in place.

    The captain yelled to get away, but it was too late. In a single fluid motion, the daemon sliced off their heads, spraying blood everywhere, further deepening the crimson of the bloody snow.

    The experienced ones immediately went into action as more and more daemons suddenly appeared among them, killing anyone before them.

    Captains shouted instructions and the sounds of strands being used quickly rose.

    The roar of Ignis, the rippling of Aqua, the swirling of Aeris, the crumbling of Terra, and the sounds of other strands and sub-strands mixed with the boom of artillery and railguns as the daemons descended on the Deathwalkers.

    And me?

    I was frozen in my place, blood dripping from my hair. By some weird luck, I was not in the path of the daemon''s sword path of bloody death.

    What the heck just happened?

    Ten dead before we could even move a muscle. Just what in the world is this thing?

    Screams, battlecry, and the barking of orders enveloped me as I stood there, frozen in shock.

    I was not bothered by the blood. I am used to brutalities like this. But it was the speed and lethality of these creatures that shook me.

    How can such creatures even exist?

    The daemon turned to me and tilted its head, as if curious as to why I hadn''t moved an inch despite the carnage it had unleashed.

    It lifted its greatsword and swung upward at me.

    ''MOVE YOU, DAMN FOOL!'', I screamed internally as the blade came to my face. My body reacted and sucked in the cold air, and I increased my focus.

    It was a technique I mastered to increase my perception of the world. For me, time would slow down, and my reaction speed would spike.

    But will this body be able to move accordingly?

    The greatsword was getting closer. I breathed in more air.

    The cold air of the mountains entering my lungs stimulated the rest of my body into action.

    Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

    Just as the blade was about to slice me in half, I crossed my daggers and blocked it.

    The next thing I knew, I was flying backward at a terrifying speed. I only got time to grit my teeth and shift my body before crashing onto the ground and sliding for a few distances before stopping.

    I struggled to breathe, and my entire body ached. I''m pretty sure I may have broken a few bones.

    Pain flared in my shoulder as it was out of place, and a searing pain assaulted my chest.

    Wincing and groaning in pain, I got up and examined my chest. My eyes widened at the sight of a vertical gash on my sternum.

    If I hadn''t blocked the attack, I would''ve shared the same fate as the other newbie.

    It was a good thing that I also coated my arms with ardor. Otherwise, I would''ve lost them both.

    The gash on my chest burned, and it was hard for me to breathe. My daggers lay beside me, and I looked at my right shoulder, which had become dislocated.

    The throbbing pain was horrible, but I refrained from screaming. The noises of war surrounded me as I grabbed my wrist and popped my shoulder back in.

    I grunted in pain at the procedure, and making sure my shoulder was working correctly, I calmed down and painfully got to my feet.

    Pain still ravaged my whole body, and there was no doubt that I had sustained extensive damage from just a single blow from the daemon but I was positive I would be able to function.

    Suddenly I froze as something loomed over me. Something abnormally large.

    I looked up and saw a ten-foot-tall daemon looking down at me as if intrigued by how something small and weak like me wasn''t dead yet.

    It raised its hammer to smash me into a rather handsome paste. I closed my eyes.

    Is this how I die?

    A second death on the very first day of my second chance?

    ...

    No fucking way.

    Just as the massive hammer dropped down rage blossomed within me.

    I am Sir Mordred! Even if it was for a short time, I was a king!

    How dare you look down on me, you vile creature!

    Ardor coursed into my legs, and I jumped away just as the hammer obliterated the place where I was standing a mere second ago.

    It turned to me and took a step forward before a glint of metal caught my eye. It was followed by a blue flash and an explosion, completely obliterating the daemon in front of me.

    I was blown away for the second time in five minutes.

    But this time, instead of crashing on the ground, I landed on something soft and slightly wet. A mound of snow? I hope so.

    I opened my eyes and immediately wished I hadn''t.

    What I landed on was the dead body of a Deathwalker. It was a woman, and it appears that she was stabbed in the abdomen. My hand rested on the entrails that spilled out of her wound.

    Ew. Gross.

    But it seemed she got the least gruesome way to the afterlife.

    I can''t say the same for the other bodies around me. There are about fifty fallen Deahwalkers around, many of them unrecognizable from the horrendous injuries that killed them. Blood flowed from their mutilated bodies and mixed with the snow to create a small lake of death.

    And I have landed right in the middle of it.

    Although morbid, my situation seems a little better. The daemons do not seem to even approach this area of death for the moment.

    But it doesn''t mean everything is fine. My weak body was being ravaged by pain, and the gash on my chest felt like molten metal.

    Suppose you are wondering how I am not screaming my throat out. The answer is simple. I have become quite used to pain.

    I had broken every bone in my body and suffered hundreds of injuries in my past life so much so that my pain tolerance reached the realms of the supernatural.

    But only my mind is used to the pain. I can''t say the same for my new body. It was shuddering, and tears flowed from my eyes unconsciously.

    I sat up, using the fallen Deathwalker''s face to support myself.

    "Sorry.", I muttered and looked at the battle''s progress.

    Carnage. Absolute carnage.

    Daemons were slaughtering Deathwalkers one after another. Blood splattered and flowed like rivers. Most of the newbies appear to be dead.

    The veterans fought with determination and utter savagery. They kept on fighting even when their limbs were ripped out or sliced off. Some even resorted to biting the daemons like animals.

    The screaming became less and was replaced by the sounds of clashing weapons, explosions, the howl of winds, the roar of flames, the crackling of lightning, and the cracking of ice.

    These were accompanied by the sound of blood flowing from wounds, the tearing of flesh, and the breaking of bones.

    Orders were given, and orders were received. When one Deathwalker falls, another one takes their place.

    Among ten Deathwalkers that go against a daemon, about two bring it down. These were the average Deathwalkers.

    The story was different from the powerful ones like the captains.

    They plowed through the daemon forces and decimated them like how that single daemon decimated the squad of newbies.

    Daemons exploded into balls of darkness and a crimson smoke swirled around when they were brought down.

    Among the many Deathwalkers decimating the daemons, I noticed one in particular.

    She looked about my age. I couldn''t make her out in the distance except for one thing. Her raven black hair stood out among the crimson snow and her blue eyes glowed with power.

    She weaved around the battlefield, and what appeared to be black smoke trailed off her as she swiftly climbed a 15-foot daemon and plunged her black daggers into its heart before launching herself from its chest.

    She twisted in midair before slicing another daemon''s head off and making a hole in its chest with what appeared to be a bolt of pure darkness. The daemon shuddered and exploded into darkness.

    She landed a good distance away and appeared to catch her breath.

    I watched her in awe. No way she is the same age as me. She''s too strong!

    But why is she here? The minimum age to become a Deathwalker is fifteen and I thought I was the only exception for that.

    I kept on watching her when we suddenly locked eyes. Despite the distance between us, her gaze penetrated me.

    She tilted her head to the side and gave me a curious look before turning around to kill more daemons.

    I looked back at her retreating form until I heard a crackle in my ear.

    "Hey, Mordred! Are you alright?", a familiar voice spoke in my ear. It was the communication device.

    "Felix?", I croaked.

    "Thank the Incarni, you''re alright!"

    "Where are you?", I asked.

    "I''m manning a railgun and just saved you from that daemon."

    The blue flash and explosion came to my mind.

    "That was you?"

    "Yes! Now listen, Mordred. You must focus on surviving. Do not engage the daemons in combat. You''re currently too weak for that. The weakest daemon is a master D rank."

    "Oh.", I replied. There is no way I will be able to even scratch a daemon in my current state. I am just a weak F-rank.

    "What should I do?"

    "I''ll cover you as much as I can! You do whatever it takes to survive! Run around and avoid the attacks of the daemons or even hide under the dead bodies. Just survive! The commander would be very cross with me if you die on the first day.", Felix instructed.

    A faint smile appeared on my lips, "Very well. I''ll survive. Thanks!"

    "Don''t thank me yet! Do that after you come out alive!"

    Fueled by his words, I slowly got up. My boots squelched and were splattered with blood as I stood on the bodies of the fallen Deathwalkers surrounding me.

    I started thinking of a way to not die brutally and came up with a good plan.

    That''s when a black arrow the length of a spear pierced through my body.

 16 Death Or Dream?

    So much for high pain tolerance.

    I screamed in agony as the arrow went through my right shoulder, nearly severing my arm in such a way that it dangled from my shoulder by just a chunk of flesh.

    I fell to my knees, screaming and desperately holding onto my arm to prevent it from falling off.

    It hurts! It felt like tiny spikes of molten metal creeping into my body. The gash on my chest is nothing compared to what I am feeling right now.

    I couldn''t hear Felix calling out to me over the screaming. I may have screamed for a few minutes before my voice started to crack.

    I stopped screaming and clenched my teeth. Destroying my voice won''t make things better. I activated Haema and attempted to stop the bleeding and heal myself.

    The bleeding slowed down, but I found it hard to heal myself. Do injuries caused by daemons take longer to heal?

    Before I could think of an answer, Felix shouted in my ear, "MORDRED WATCH OUT!"

    A shadow loomed over me. I looked up and saw a daemon coming right at me from above.

    Holding my dangling arm, I jumped and rolled away just as the daemon struck with its sword, decimating the field of corpses.

    Bits of Deathwalkers rained down on me as the daemon, a six-foot-tall swordsman, turned to me.

    I looked at its faceless visage, and a primal fear gripped me with icy fingers, paralyzing me, and dug into me. The horrible pain I was feeling disappeared for a second as a glacial chill enveloped me.

    I looked desperately at the featureless black canvas the thing had for a face. I tried to find any meaning for its brutal slaughter.

    But I found nothing.

    And that pissed me off. The flames of anger melted away the freezing fear and enveloped me.

    I glared at the daemon just as it vanished from my eyes.

    By pure instinct, I quickly jumped to the right, just as the daemon appeared where I previously stood and swung at me.

    I dropped to the ground. The sword passed above my head by an inch and generated a strong gust.

    I kicked at the ground and flew low to the ground, essentially creating some distance between me and the daemon.

    "Get out of there, Mordred!", Felix''s voice yelled in my ears. I nodded and was about to run as fast as I could from the daemon when my eyes fell on it looking at me.

    It doesn''t matter if I run. The daemon will eventually cut me down.

    There is only one way.

    "Felix! Can you shoot the daemon I''m facing?", I asked.

    "Just a second!"

    "I don''t have a second!", I yelled, hearing a boom from the other side as Felix launched another projectile.

    "Bullseye! Yeah, I''m back!"

    The daemon appeared in front of me and brought down its sword.

    "Damnit, Felix! Can you shoot?", I quickly dodged the head-slicing attack.

    "You''re not in range. Oh, don''t tell me. You''re crazy!"

    "It''s the only way I can survive.", I said through clenched teeth. The pain is becoming unbearable. It won''t be long before I pass out.

    "Fine. Just move around until you''re in range."

    "Easy for you to say!", I streamed ardor into my legs and ran.

    I didn''t know I could be this fast. My body screamed in pain as I weaved between dead bodies and Deathwalkers who were still fighting.

    I turned around and saw that the daemon was gone. That''s when I slammed into something and fell on my back.

    "Ow.", I painfully looked up, and all the color drained from my face.

    "Oh."

    The daemon looked down at me and raised its sword. I tried to move away, but my body just collapsed at that moment.

    I do hope I''m in range.

    "Alright, Mordred. You''re in range."

    Just in time.

    I saw a familiar blue flash, and everything went dark.

    *******

    The sun shone brightly through the canopy as I slowly opened my eyes.

    With a groan, I got up from the blanket I was sleeping on and rubbed the sleep from my eyes.

    The sound of flowing water made me turn around to see a beautiful stream of water. I can see the beautiful pebbles beneath the crystal clear water.

    A light fog hung in the air, and the air was quite cold. I rubbed my arms to warm them up and frowned.

    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    My right arm seems to be fine. Last I remembered, it was dangling from my shoulder by just a piece of flesh. I was also not in immense pain.

    "What the?", I looked down and saw that my body was bigger and well-built. I wore chainmail over a simple tunic shirt instead of the Deathwalker uniform.

    I looked beside me and saw a familiar black armor on the ground beside me. The remains of a small campfire smoldered a few feet from where I sat.

    "How?", I asked, looking around at my surroundings. I was in a familiar wood, and I was sitting in the shade of one of the many trees in it.

    The leaves rustled in the cool morning breeze, and the songs of birds formed a beautiful melody as the sun rose in the sky.

    A massive contrast to the bloody battlefield I was just in.

    I dipped my hands into the stream. The water was fast-flowing and ice-cold. I splashed some into my face and felt refreshed.

    I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with fresh cool air. I breathed out, and a small smile formed on my lips.

    How peaceful.

    Looks like I died for the second time on the same day as I was reborn.

    I chuckled. What an achievement.

    It appears that I have woken up in my previous world, in one of the many woods of Great Britain, in my previous body.

    How strange.

    The first time I died, I found myself in an endless dark void of nothingness. I expected to return to the void, but instead, I found myself in a familiar and peaceful wood.

    Heck, I even expected to wake up in hell. But this is different.

    Was what I just experienced in Blood Valley one of my punishments?

    Or was it all just an illusion?

    I woke up in a futuristic world, went to the north, and faced shadowy monsters called daemons. Was it all just an elaborate illusion?

    I walked over to the campsite and bent over my armor, about to retrieve it, when I froze as another question entered my mind.

    Perhaps everything I just experienced on the battlefield was real, and I am actually in another world. Then...

    "Is this a dream?", I asked.

    I heard clapping behind me, "Pretty good. You figured it out quite quickly."

    I turned around and saw him.

    It was the mysterious blue-eyed wizard with white hair. He looked the same as the last time I saw him in Camlann.

    But what is he doing here? If this is a dream...

    "How is someone you barely saw in your last moments in the dream?", He spoke with a calm and pleasant smile.

    I frowned at him, "That''s creepy. Get out of my head."

    He chuckled at my response, "An interesting reaction. You are quite the odd one, Sir Mordred."

    I shrugged, "I''ve heard that a lot of times."

    Wait. Why am I so calm right now? I''m in a dream talking to a stranger!

    "Who are you?", I asked.

    "Who am I? I am just a warlock who likes to travel a lot.", he replied.

    My eyes narrowed, "A warlock who travels? Then how come you are in my dream?"

    "Any warlock who has reached the pinnacle of living energy is capable of manipulating the human mind."

    "Living energy?"

    The warlock nodded, "Ardor, magic, magia, elan. It has different names across different universes. To put it simply. It is the wonderful energy that can alter the very fabric of reality."

    "In this world, it is called ardor. So I''ll use that name."

    He smiled, "To put it simply, I am the one at the apex of ardor in any universe."

    I blinked in disbelief, "You can...travel between different universes?"

    "Indeed. I guess this is the traveling stage of my life.", he laughed at his joke.

    "How and why?"

    The warlock tilted his head, "Pardon?"

    I gazed into his blue eyes as I asked my question., "How did you reincarnate me? And why?"

    He met my gaze and pondered the question for a minute before answering me.

    "As to how you reincarnated into this world. It is not that hard.", he chuckled, "I know some unbelievably divine beings. Death, Order, Rebirth, Life, those guys."

    "It took some convincing and a lot of paperwork, especially with Rebirth, who was quite stubborn.", he sighed and clapped with excitement, "But I managed to get you reincarnated in this world."

    "Sure. It took some time, centuries actually but here we are. You in the body of your parallel version."

    "But why?!", I asked him, my fists clenched in anger.

    "Why did you do it? Haven''t I suffered enough in my previous life? Why do I have to suffer in this life as well? Why even give a sinner like me a second life like this? Why didn''t you give Arthur this chance?", I glared at him.

    "I should''ve just died back in Camlann!"

    The man was unfazed by my outburst.

    "I''m sorry Mordred for the suffering you have endured. But this is for your own good."

    I sneered, "Almost dying due to painful injuries was for my own good? Gee.Thanks for that."

    "Your life reminded me of my own past. Like you, I made mistakes. Terrible ones. Some of my actions were unforgivable. But before I got a chance to fix them. It was too late.", he said.

    He gave me a sad smile and his eyes showed despair. It was the despair of a man full of regrets. It was the same look Merlin gave me back in the Dawn Palace.

    But this was much much deeper.

    "I was unable to get a second chance.", he spoke, "And that is why I want you to live this life. You are a heinous villain but you were broken by the world."

    He stood up, "I believe in second chances, Mordred. I only wish for you to fully grasp this chance and live how you really want to."

    Suddenly the wind picked up and I saw the sky breaking up into small pieces. Not only the sky, but the trees were breaking down as well. The entire world is dissolving around us.

    The warlock looked at the sky, "I''m afraid that our time here is coming to an end. You are about to wake up."

    The ground started breaking and I stumbled, "Wait! I have many more things to ask you!"

    His sad smile turned to one of longing, "Don''t worry Mordred. This will not be the last time we''ll be seeing each other. I''ll look forward to our next meeting in this dream."

    "I can have this dream again?", I asked as the surroundings dissolved into pure white, my armor floated away into dust along with the campfire, and the creek stopped flowing and dissolved into particles of light.

    The traveling warlock nodded and gave a charming smile, "Indeed. We''ll meet again the next time you pass out on the battlefield. We''ll have an amazing conversation then."

    "Oh.", I realized his words, "That''s gonna be a huge pain."

    "To attain enlightenment, one must endure some pain.", he gave me a wink and said, "Oh! And say hi to Merlin for me! Tell her that her master is proud of her!"

    "Wait. What?", I stared at him as the ground dissolved and I stumbled into the white void.

    As I fell, I locked my eyes with him, "What''s your name?"

    "My name?", the warlock smiled as he faded away.

    "My name is Eravon Lock."

 17 Seriously, Merlin

    I opened my eyes with a gasp.

    Only to be blinded by the lights on the ceiling.

    "Ack!", I covered my poor eyes. They really hurt.

    My. That sounds like a terrible verse for a poem.

    Anyway.

    My entire body is in pain but not the hellish kind I experienced in Blood Valley. It felt more like my body was sore from too much exercise.

    "Ouch.", I muttered.

    "Oh? You''re alive?", a familiar and annoying voice asked me.

    I frowned and squinted at the owner of the voice.

    Her eyes constantly shifted colors and she had a big smirk on her face, "Congratulations. You just survived your first battle."

    "Fuck you, Merlin.", I gritted my teeth and swore.

    "Not the first words I expected from your mouth. Also, please mind your language young man.", she replied as she sat at the foot of my bed, her eyes glinting with mischief.

    "And you mind your own business.", I retorted in a strained voice.

    "Yep. You''re fine. No signs of mental trauma so far.", she noted.

    I realized that I was currently lying on a bed in what appeared to be an infirmary. It is huge and I have a feeling the entire floor is dedicated to medical treatments.

    I seem to be in a general room as there are many beds around me, most of them full.

    There were Deathwalkers with all sorts of injuries. Some had their arms in slings, some had their legs in casts, and some were even wrapped head to toe with bandages.

    I looked at the ones who were relatively fine physically and noticed the expressions on their faces.

    Terror.

    It was evident in their eyes. They were probably the other newbies that survived along with me.

    I have seen those faces in my previous world when new soldiers were faced with the brutal reality of war. These boys and girls who are not even twenty have been broken on the inside.

    They are traumatized by just a single battle. Watching other Deathwalkers die brutally at the hands of the daemons has taken a catastrophic toll on their minds.

    A few were curled up on their beds and sobbing uncontrollably, lamenting their fate.

    Even if they survive and leave the Shield. They will never be able to adjust to society due to the mental scars.

    I do hope the Shield has a place dedicated to mental trauma cause these kids are cracked.

    And I am not one of them.

    Sure, the things that I saw on the battlefield were horrifying but I am used to it. I had been on many battlefields in my past and have seen worse things.

    There is no limit to the cruelty a human can do to another human.

    I was quite shocked by the sheer scale of violence exhibited by the daemons.

    You don''t see a soldier getting cleaved in half by a single sword slice regularly on the battlefields of Great Britain.

    Looks like I am broken, just like what the warlock said.

    Eravon Lock. What a curious man.

    I looked at myself and was surprised to see my arm fully attached to my body. The wound is covered in bandages and the terrible pain from it is not there anymore.

    I realized that I was only wearing shorts and nothing else. My chest had been bandaged and the burning of the gash was gone as well. The rest of my body was bandaged all over.

    Merlin was staring at me the entire time I examined my body.

    I met her gaze, "How long was I out?"

    "Two days.", She replied, "You are a lucky guy, Mordred. The remaining daemons retreated into the Tear soon after the one behind you was blown up by the railgun."

    "You lost consciousness and suffered severe burns due to your proximity to the blast. The Scavengers picked you up and brought you to Althea, the medical center of the Shield."

    "Scavengers?", I asked.

    "They are Deathwalkers who clean up the battlefield. They transport the wounded to Althea, pick up body parts for reattachment, pick up used and lost weapons, and carry the dead or what remains of them.", Merlin explained with a straight face.

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    She noticed my expression, "Oh? You seem quite disturbed. Well, a Scavenger is not an appetizing job in the Shield. I can say that."

    I slowly shook my head, causing pain to flare up, "It''s not about the Scavengers. It''s about how blunt you were when you told me about them."

    "Oh.", She looked surprised, "Well, I am quite used to this. Do you want to hear my past?"

    "No thanks. I don''t want even more emotional damage."

    Merlin scoffed, "As if I will tell you about my past. But if you insist..."

    "Jeez Merlin. I told you, I don''t want to hear the story of your life. I am not interested.", I repeated.

    "Alright.", She shrugged and with the same blank look told me, "I am glad that you are alive."

    I scoffed, "I thought you wanted me dead."

    "Yeah. I did. Unfortunately, if I try to change the future, something more troublesome will pop up. But I was still hoping that you would die. I hope you do in the future."

    She smiled and repeated, "But I sure am glad to see that you''re alive for now."

    "Damnit Merlin.", I massaged my head, "Make up your mind. You''re even confusing the readers."

    "Heh.", she stuck out her tongue.

    I tried to relax but the vivid and horrifying images of the battle flashed across my mind. I gripped my sheet and bit my lip.

    I remember the daemons viciously cutting down Deathwalkers by the dozen and the Deathwalkers fighting back with pure savagery.

    For every daemon destroyed, about ten Deathwalkers lost their lives.

    I shuddered. Considering that the weakest daemon is a master D rank and the average Deathwlker is a beginner D rank, that was not a battle between daemons and humans. It was more of a slaughter.

    Seeing my expression, Merlin''s smile vanished, "That is the reality of the Tear, Mordred. What you saw today was not even a quarter of the horror. You''re lucky there were no wraiths when you were deployed."

    "Wraiths?", I was puzzled. There was no mention of them in the books the previous Mordred read.

    "Undead monsters created by the daemons. Nasty buggers.", She said and looked at me with sympathy, "You will encounter them soon enough."

    Wow. Thanks for the new disturbing info, Merlin. Definitely helping in keeping myself sane and not plunging my weak ass into further despair.

    Before she could continue to list out the other nasty stuff that could kill me, I changed the subject.

    I touched my bandaged right shoulder and asked her, "How is my arm fine? It was more or less dangling by a thread."

    "Ah. That''s quite simple.", Merlin cocked her head, "The Shield has the best healers in the entire Kingdom."

    "They can reattach any severed body parts that are retrieved within a day and can heal any wounds as long as you are not dead. Heck, they can even save you from the brink of death."

    She looked at me, "That''s the reason for the processing you underwent."

    "Huh?", I gave her a puzzled look. My mind was still rattled from all that was happening.

    Merlin rolled her eyes, "Oh Incarni. Remember going buck nude inside the capsule?"

    "Oh."

    "Yeah.", she nodded vigorously, "The capsule imprints a unique ardor signature over your entire body. Scavengers use special detectors to identify the owners of body parts lying on the battlefield and send them to Althea for reattachment."

    "It''s quite a huge boon and has prevented a lot of rather unfortunate incidents regarding mistakes in reattachment. Honestly, imagine walking around with someone else''s nose attached to your face."

    I didn''t want to imagine such a scenario, "That is oddly specific. Why the nose?"

    Merlin snorted, "Believe me Mordred. Deathwalkers are very self-conscious about their noses."

    "That is quite inconvenient.", I replied.

    "I know right?"

    After that banter, there was an awkward silence between us, broken only by the groans and crying of the other patients.

    Many were looking at us, specifically Merlin. It is not every day you see the master of Avalon who is also one of the greatest warlocks in the world in the general ward of Althea.

    I also felt some gazes on me. Maybe seeing a royal in the Shield is quite unexpected.

    "Anyway.", Merlin cleared her throat and stood up.

    "You are a lucky kid, Mordred. Only a handful of the newbies survive their first battle."

    My body became numb when I heard her words, "What are the numbers?"

    She looked at me with a grim expression, "Out of a hundred newbies, nine survived and among them, only you are the most mentally stable one."

    I stared at her in shocked silence.

    Oh.

    Nine survivors out of a hundred. That''s not a good number.

    Again. Why did get a second chance?

    I took a deep breath to calm myself.

    "Merlin. You are a smart one, right?"

    She raised her eyebrows, "Indeed I am. Even smarter than you."

    Ignoring the obvious jab I asked her, "What are my odds of surviving three years here?"

    "Seeing how weak you are. I must say it''s pretty abysmal.", she quickly replied without a pause.

    Man. That was a critical hit to my confidence. Seeing my dismayed expression, her eyes softened.

    "If you don''t want to be skewered like a kebab by a daemon, you better start getting stronger. Haema is a powerful strand and you will be a lethal force if you master it."

    "You have excellent ardor control. Use that to strengthen your body and control your strand. After three years, the person who will come back from the Shield will be very different from what you currently are."

    She narrowed her eyes, "And may even pose a threat to the Kingdom."

    I gulped. Even without releasing aura or bloodlust, her gaze is enough to overwhelm me.

    "But we''ll cross that bridge when it comes.", she turned around, "Well. All of this is in the assumption that you will survive for three years in this hell."

    "But if you do, then I will be waiting for you in Avalon. Plus I''ll even let you land a punch on my face.", she gave me a smirk before walking away.

    "Do whatever it takes to survive, Mordred. For I look forward to your death."

    She stopped and gave me one final look, "Goodbye Mordred Pendragon. Prove me wrong. Show me that my future vision is defective."

    With those words, she walked out of the general ward and her white hair disappeared in the darkness of the doorway.

    I looked back at her retreating figure and realized something.

    I forgot to convey Eravon''s message to her.

    Oops.

 18 City Of The Dead

    "Wounds caused by daemons always leave marks."

    Felix spoke these words as I examined the scars I got on my right shoulder and chest.

    The one on my chest was stretched vertically over my sternum. I gingerly touched it, feeling the scar tissue.

    Pretty nasty, I must say.

    But as long as my face is fine, I don''t care if my entire body is riddled with scars.

    No scars on this beautiful face, I tell you!

    Felix waited as I put on my Deathwalker uniform which had automatically mended itself.

    After Merlin had left me, I stayed in the ward for another day before the healers looked me up and deemed that I was well enough to function. Felix came to pick me up afterward.

    Althea is among the busiest places in the Shield. As soon as I got up from my bed, staff members quickly changed the sheets and brought in an injured Deathwalker, a girl of about 17 years who was gritting her teeth and had an expression of intense pain.

    She had lost both of her legs.

    Using my genius intellect and experience I guess her legs were sliced clean off in a single swing, probably by a greatsword. And it happened just recently.

    The stumps are wrapped in bandages that are slowly turning red from her blood. Emergency treatment, I presume.

    "Not again.", she muttered through clenched teeth.

    Interesting. This is not her first time losing limbs. No wonder she isn''t screaming.

    Felix noticed me looking at the girl and the Althea staff trying to make her comfortable.

    "She''ll be here until the Scavengers find her legs.", he said.

    "How long does that take?", I glanced at him.

    He shrugged, "Depends on how the battle went."

    He looked at the girl and then around the ward, taking in the steady stream of Deathwalkers being brought inside.

    "Seems like today is one of those good days."

    I narrowed my eyes, "What constitutes a good day in Blood Valley?"

    He turned to me, "The battle you fought was called a good day."

    "Oh."

    What felt like a block of ice plummeted into my stomach. All that devastation and death was a good day?

    I don''t even want to know what constitutes the worst day.

    Ah. My self-confidence. Why art thou running away from me?

    "To get the bloody hell out of this fucked up situation!", spoke my self-confidence, flashing me a rude gesture.

    Felix noticed my hopeless expression, "Shall we get out for some fresh air? I''ll even show you the interior of the Shield, Necropolis."

    "The city of the dead?", I asked in an uneasy voice.

    "Uhuh.", he nodded proudly, "A fitting name for a city of Deathwalkers, don''t you think?"

    "Very fitting."

    I sighed, "Very well. Let''s go."

    Anyplace is better than this.

    I looked back at the general ward of Althea. My eyes fell on the many Deathwalkers lying on beds, Althea''s staff and healers walking to each patient.

    I will be frequenting this place in the future. Better get used to this sight.

    "This place reeks of blood.", I muttered and left with Felix.

    *******

    I did not expect this.

    After leaving Althea, which occupies ten whole floors, Felix and I walked along a corridor slightly larger than the ones of the Dawn Palace.

    It is painted glossy white and has light panels embedded in the ceiling. Apart from those, there are no noticeable features except for the continuous glowing blue strip and the security cameras placed in certain intervals.

    We passed many Deathwalkers along our way, they nodded to Felix and some even greeted him.

    I am not surprised. Felix is a two-year veteran in the Shield and is well known. He even has some fans, judging by some of the interactions.

    I received mostly curious looks and whispers as I walked away. It doesn''t take a genius to guess what they are whispering about.

    But I am not concerned about that. I already have a terrible reputation. How worse can it get?

    "Hey. Isn''t that the Failed Prince?"

    "Yeah. I heard he is still using his pacifier."

    "And I heard he is a very randy person."

    "Oh my. At such a young age?"

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    These whispers floated into my ears.

    Okay. My reputation is much worse.

    Alright then. These guys are dying by my hands.

    Felix noticed my murderous expression and chuckled.

    "Just don''t take them seriously."

    "Why? Those guys are insulting me!", I demanded.

    He held up two fingers, "There are two reasons, Mordred. One, you are far weaker than those guys and you will likely experience a tremendous ass-whooping from them. Currently, you are the weakest Deathwalker in Necropolis."

    Ouch. Sometimes the truth is painful.

    "And two, Deathwalkers spread the wildest stories to pass the time. Most of them are faker than Merlin''s smile."

    I was so impressed by the comparison that I forgot I was mad, "That is a good one."

    Felix grinned, "I know right?"

    Speaking of Merlin, "Has she left?", I asked. He nodded.

    "Yep. She left as soon as she saw that you were okay."

    He looked at me, "She may be a carefree and nonchalant person. But she was worried about you."

    I scoffed, "No way!"

    Merlin? Worried about me? I''ll believe that when pigs fly!

    Hm. Now I wonder if there are any flying pigs in this world.

    The corridor soon opened up and what I saw took my breath away.

    We arrived at a huge balcony on what is probably the sixteenth floor. It stretched on both sides and had many arched entrances to corridors similar to the one we just exited.

    Balconies like the one we are standing on extend out of the inner walls into many floors and over to the ceiling.

    The ceiling comprises special panels that mimic the sky outside, complete with the real-time movement of the sun and clouds. Glass walkways chaotically spanned between the balconies.

    I looked below the glass railing and gasped.

    A few floors below me is a vast plaza with different establishments built along the sides. The floor is made up of what appears to be white marble.

    Numerous different designs made of colored tiles and even colored glass stood out on the floor like beautiful paintings on a white canvas.

    I saw a beautiful eagle made of golden and amber tiles, a silver lion made up of, well, silver tiles, and mythical creatures like a phoenix made of red, golden, and orange tiles and I swear its eye is a ruby the size of my fist.

    Entrances to different corridors opened along the glossy white walls of the inside, some are even located between two stores. They probably led to other areas in the Shield.

    Speaking of stores.

    They are spread out on the plaza for basically anything that can be found in a small city. I saw cafes, one or two restaurants, a major clothes store, a huge store for ardor items, and different weapons stores that displayed a variety of weapons.

    I saw what looked like a theatre, a book store, a library, and a huge store for all kinds of electronics, smartphones, laptops, washing machines, and so on.

    There is even a video game store where you can rent a gaming system and play any game available.

    At the center of the plaza is a giant tree with a very wide trunk, the top of which reaches the tenth floor. A beautiful white fountain placed in front of the tree created different shapes with the water coming out of the top.

    The tree and the fountain were surrounded by the biggest design on the floor, a draconian serpent biting its tail made from tiles of the purest black. The symbol of the Pendragons.

    I gulped. This place is amazing and has everything that is needed to make your life comfortable. This is not what I imagined the inside of the Shield to be.

    It is more of a mini underground city than the inside of a fortress. It looked impossible. How can such a vast place be found inside the confines of a bloody wall?

    Felix smiled at my dumbfounded expression. With a hint of pride, he held out his hand at the Plaza, "This is Necropolis, the city of the dead. The central plaza down there is just a small part of the whole thing. Pretty incredible, isn''t it? "

    "Very.", I nodded and looked at him with an expression of awe and confusion, "How-"

    "How can such a large complex be built inside the Shield?", he finished my question.

    I nodded, "Yeah. Isn''t the Shield only a hundred meters thick? I mean, that is quite big but there is no way it will be able to accommodate a literal underground city."

    Felix nodded, "You''re right, Mordred. The answer is clever ardor engineering."

    He walked to the wall behind us and touched the blue strip. As soon as he did, a portion of the strip turned into a string of peculiar characters that glowed blue.

    "Runes.", I said, recognizing them from the books the previous Mordred read. To put it simply, They are the language of ardor.

    Every code and enchantment is created with runes. They are essentially the fundamental units to access the power of ardor.

    "Yep.", Felix removed his finger and the characters faded into the blue strip.

    "The interior of the Shield is enchanted with powerful Locus runes, warping space and making it bigger inside."

    He gave me an amused look, "Do you seriously think the Shield can hold this many Deathwalkers if the interior was made the usual way?"

    I shook my head. He is right. There is no way a hundred meters will be able to accommodate every Deathwalker of the Shield.

    And there are a lot of them.

    Deathwalkers milled about the central plaza like in any busy city, all of them wearing the Deathwalker uniform. I noticed that uniforms can be customized to the wearer''s preference, as long as the basic design is not changed.

    Will I be able to customize my uniform in the future? Well, assuming I survive the coming future.

    Ah. My gloominess has come back.

    I looked at the Deathwalkers walking around in the plaza. Most are in their late teens and early twenties with only a few who are older.

    Many walked with their friends while a few individuals sat on the benches placed in the plaza and read books or were hunched over their smart devices.

    Many more walked past me and crossed to the other balconies by the walkways.

    The different shops along the plaza are brimming with Deathwalkers. A young woman with pink hair is checking out a wicked-looking scythe while her friend, maybe, is telling her about something.

    The restaurants were packed with Deathwalkers as it was lunch time and many flocked to the cafes.

    I noticed that the mood in Necropolis is completely different from the battlefield. I don''t see any of the dread felt on the battlefield. Instead, I saw a whole range of emotions around me.

    A group of young men relaxed at the foot of the tree, laughing and joking around. On the other side of the tree, I saw another group of Deathwalkers who looked to be in grief.

    Looks like someone from their group had died today.

    On the other side of the plaza, a crowd has formed around a guy and a girl in their late teens who seem to be having a spar or perhaps even a fight.

    Judging by the profanity flowing out of the girl''s mouth. I guess it''s the latter.

    Don''t ask me how I was able to hear that when I am sixteen stories up. My ears are somehow sensitive to curse words and I am not proud of it.

    I was amazed by what I saw. Everything here is so chaotic but most important of all.

    "Everyone is so carefree. This is totally different from the battlefield.", I spoke aloud.

    Felix nodded and crossed his arms, "I know right? The human mind is so incredible at coping with stress. Perhaps Necropolis is a place where a Deathwalker can retain their sanity."

    He then looked at me with a maniacal grin.

    "Or perhaps all of us are already cracked."

 19 I Cry Over Beef Ribs

    "This seems luxurious."

    I muttered, staring at the mouthwatering meal in front of me. The cuisine of this world of the future is different but at the same time similar to my world.

    There is a whole variety of stuff nowadays in addition to the dishes I grew up with in my past life.

    Meat dishes, soups, puddings, and many delicacies of my time remain, although they are not as heavily seasoned as in the old days.

    Felix took me to a small restaurant he said had the ''best food'' he had ever eaten. It was in one side corridor, away from the busy central plaza.

    The plaza is not the only place with shops. The more extensive corridors of Necropolis also have a variety of stores and cuisine spots, mainly small establishments that have found business opportunities in the Shield.

    There were a lot of dishes I couldn''t recognize on the menu, which is strangely significant for such a small restaurant.

    In the end, I chose stewed beef ribs with a salad. It was the only thing that I recognized.

    "You sure about this?", I asked Felix sitting opposite me.

    He smiled, "It''s my treat. Congratulations on surviving your first battle. Dig in."

    I began to eat my meal. It was not even a popular dish but to my tongue that was used to salty soup and stale bread, it was the food of the gods. Tears welled up in my eyes with each bite.

    Felix noticed my expression, "I presume the food provided in the Dawn Palace was not the best?"

    I nodded and told him about the rude servants who made the old Mordred''s life hard.

    He whistled, "Those kinds of servants are the worst. Add in the lack of communication between the main palace and the Dawn Palace, it is a miracle that you''re still alive."

    "So. What happened to those guys when you came here?", he leaned forward.

    I swallowed a huge mouthful, "Well. My elder sister discovered what was happening and had the Phantom Knights take them away."

    Felix chuckled, "You have a good sister. I heard that the Crown Princess is a cold person. Looks like she has a soft spot for her family."

    I chuckled, "She does, but not for me."

    "What?"

    I looked at him, "You are aware of her ideal, right?"

    Felix nodded, "Acknowledge the strong, push the weak to become stronger, and ignore the weakest.", he recited and realization dawned on his face, "Oh."

    I smiled bitterly, "Yeah. I never existed in her eyes."

    "But she got rid of the servants harassing you."

    "She probably did that to make herself feel better, to console herself knowing that she did something for me before I departed toward my death.", I replied as I stabbed at a piece of beef.

    Felix shrugged, "I don''t know man. Sisters are weird. Sometimes it''s hard to figure out what they think, especially ones like the Crown Princess."

    I looked at him, "You have sisters?"

    He gave a sad smile, "I had. They''re dead."

    Perhaps I shouldn''t have asked. Oops.

    "I''m sorry.", I developed an immediate fascination for the carrot on my plate.

    Felix leaned back against his chair, "It''s fine. It''s been a long time. I''ve moved on."

    There was an awkward silence with only the clink of my cutlery when a familiar noise shattered it.

    It was the daemon alarm.

    I quickly looked at my bracelet with dread, expecting to see the light that blinked me into the battlefield and a world of pain.

    Why now? I''m having a meal!

    I don''t even have a weapon except for the fork in my hand. Panic started to creep into me.

    I''m not ready yet!

    The faceless daemons would have a hearty laugh seeing me with a bloody fork!

    There wasn''t any light from the bracelet but it did little to calm me down.

    Even when the noise died down, I stared at my bracelet. My meal swirled in my stomach as I calmed myself down.

    I heard a muffled noise and looked up to see Felix trying hard to not laugh.

    "Really?", I frowned.

    "Sorry man. Your expression was priceless! I should''ve taken a picture."

    He calmed down and smiled, "Don''t worry Mordred. You won''t be sent to the battlefield anytime now."

    "What do you mean by that?"

    "Minerva selects the Deathwalkers for each battle against the daemons. She searches for the more battle-ready Deathwalkers and sends them to the battlefield.", Felix explained.

    "How does she know which Deathwalker is battle-ready?", I asked, putting down my fork and knife after the last piece of beef disappeared into my mouth.

    "Minerva monitors every single Deathwalker in the Shield. Their physical and mental state, what they are doing at the moment, whether they are at Althea. She monitors every single thing.", Felix began to explain.

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    "She takes in those factors and selects the most suitable and free Deathwalkers for the day and teleports them to the battlefield."

    He grimaced, "Unfortunately, she doesn''t check if any of the selected Deathwalkers have a weapon on them. That has led to some unfortunate deaths."

    "So it is an unwritten rule among us to carry our weapons at all times.", he said as he held a fork and grinned.

    "And yes, some Deathwalkers have been sent to the battlefield with a fork."

    I frowned, "What is it with that stuff with weapons? Can''t she just factor in that and not send those without weapons?"

    "What will happen if every Deathwwalker doesn''t take their weapons knowing that Minerva will not choose them for not having a weapon?", Felix asked back.

    "Then no one will be there to fight the daemons.", I quickly answered and then realized, "Oh."

    He nodded, "Exactly."

    I thought about it. There seems to be a loophole in this method of choosing Deathwalkers.

    "You said Minerva selects Deathwalkers who are free at the moment of the invasion. What would happen if no one was free at that moment? Deathwalkers can use that loophole.", I said.

    Felix smiled, "Ah. That''s a good question. You''re right. That is a loophole and many Deathwalkers tried to exploit it. Many of them made sure to be busy when the alarm came."

    His smile turned scary, "But they underestimated Minerva. She randomly selected the Deathwalkers who were fit enough for battle regardless and sent them to the battlefield."

    "I heard there was a guy who was summoned while he was with one of the hookers.", Felix recalled with a laugh. He then wagged a finger at me.

    "So yeah. Please don''t try to outsmart Minerva. She can get pretty upset and boy, she is one sadistic AI."

    One of the things he said caught my attention and I blinked in disbelief, "I''m sorry? Did you say hooker? Like a prostitute?"

    A sly smile formed on his face, "Oh yes. For Deathwalkers with a lifespan of mere days, dying without getting laid can be quite difficult. So Necropolis has a red light area on the fifty-second floor."

    I stared at him, "Seriously?"

    Felix shrugged, "Hey, even Deathwalkers are human with desires. Plus, put thousands of young adults in an enclosed structure and things are bound to get randy."

    Wow. I can''t believe there is an area for that in Necropolis. But this is a city and some cities have these places. Why am I getting surprised?

    Suppose you are wondering why I am pretty interested in this. Well, I was quite the playboy in my past life and slept with many women.

    Wow. Now that I am thirteen years old, I can''t help but feel very disturbed thinking about my ''adventures''.

    Felix saw my expression and shook his head, "Oh no. You are not allowd to even be a floor below the red light area."

    "Is there a specific age limit?"

    He nodded, "Yeah. And you are way below it."

    "Tch.", I was disappointed.

    "Hey, I saw that.", Felix raised an eyebrow, "I''m older than your sister and the commander put me in charge of supervising you. I''m kinda like a temporary older brother now."

    I rolled my eyes, "Ugh. Fine."

    I folded my arms and stared at him, "And what about you? Are you a regular of the fifty-second floor?"

    Felix shuddered, "Incarni forbid. Jasper would kill me."

    I tilted my head in confusion, "Jasper?"

    He smiled, "My fiancee."

    I blinked, "Fiancee? You''re engaged?"

    He nodded with a smug smile, "Yep! We''ll get married soon after my term in the Shield is finished."

    "How long is your term?"

    He thought about it, "Four years."

    "You have two more years left."

    He nodded, "Yep. If things go well and I don''t die, I''ll be marrying Jasper the day I get out of this place."

    "Oh! And you are invited!", he pointed at me. I just frowned, "But we barely know each other."

    He waved dismissively, "Don''t worry about that. I have a feeling that we''ll be best friends by the time I leave."

    Felix took out his smartphone and showed me a picture. It was of a beautiful young woman of Morgan''s age with fiery red hair.

    Her bright green eyes glittered with mischief and a warm smile adorned her beautiful face.

    "She''s beautiful.", I said and looked at him, "I thought communication with the outside world was not possible."

    "Only most news is kind of restricted. All of our communications are restricted and monitored by Minerva so that a dumb Deathwalker does not leak out certain important secrets.", Felix replied.

    "She even checks our digital footprint.", he huffed, "Honestly, she has no idea about the word privacy."

    Felix then sighed, "Well. I guess it''s for the best, as much as I hate to admit it."

    He looked at my empty plate and smiled, "How was your meal?"

    "Divine.", I replied as I wiped my mouth.

    We got up and Felix paid for the meal.

    "What''s next?", I asked. "Time to get you a weapon.", he replied and I followed him out of the restaurant.

    Just as we turned to another corridor I saw something that stopped me in my tracks. Approaching us from the opposite side was a Deathwalker and trotting right beside her was a wolf.

    It was unlike anything I had ever seen. It was bigger than a normal wolf and made completely of metal.

    Bluish silver metal plates shifted with the slightest movement of the body, and gears, pistons, and springs peeked out from between the gaps in the metal. Its tail is made of multiple segments and has a spear point at the tip.

    Razor-sharp claws clinked against the floor as the mechanical wolf walked beside the tall and athletic Deathwalker.

    Its glowing blue eyes studied the two of us as it got closer to us and seemed to recognize Felix. But when its eyes fell on me, the mechanical wolf emitted a low rumble and the sound of rapidly turning gears from its mouth. It was growling at me.

    I took a step backward, my eyes focused on the sharp serrated teeth lining the mechanical mouth of the wolf.

    "Easy boy.", the Deathwalker gently stroked the wolf''s head. Its ears drooped and a different softer sound emanated from its mouth.

    The fierce angry glow of its eyes subsided and it wagged its rather fatal metal tail.

    The Deathwalker looked at us. She had onyx-colored eyes and shoulder-length ash-colored hair tied back in a ponytail.

    She did not have her jacket on and was wearing a sleeveless turtleneck, exposing her arm and the many scars that stood out vividly on her tanned skin.

    "Showing the newbie around, Felix?", she inquired.

    Felix smiled, "Yep. I see you are taking Argus for a walk, Juliet. Must''ve been a hassle to get permission."

    The Deathwalker named Juliet shrugged, "It was quite easy. Argus had to undergo maintenance. We''re just returning from the workshop and decided to take a small stroll."

    "Ah. I understand. By the way.", Felix had a look of sympathy on his face, "I heard about Zach. He was a good friend and a formidable Deathwalker. My condolences."

    Juliet bit her lip and sighed, "We know what we signed up for. Zach was the best and he knew the risks."

    She looked at Felix with a sad smile, "Thank you, Felix."

    There was silence until Juliet herself broke it.

    "So. You are the newbie everyone was whispering about.", she said, looking at me.

    I tilted my head, "I''m sorry. Do you know me?"

    Juliet rubbed her mechanical wolf under the jaw. Its entire body shuddered and a soft whir that sounded like a whimper came out of it.

    The Deathwalker nodded.

    "Why yes. You are the talk of Necropolis, Mordred Pendragon."

 20 Seriously? Bob?

    "Huh?"

    I stared at Juliet in confusion.

    "You know me?"

    The Deathwalker nodded, "Yeah. News travels fast in Necropolis and you are the main talk nowadays."

    She looked me up with curiosity, "The thirteen-year-old High Prince, Mordred Pendragon."

    She looked disappointed, "You sure you''re thirteen and not eleven?"

    My eye twitched, "What makes you think that, Miss Juliet?"

    "You''re small for your age, unlike a certain thirteen-year-old I know.", she sighed, "Honestly. What is the Commander even thinking, bringing in a weak kid like you?"

    Ouch.

    "But you sure are lucky. You survived your first battle and were the only newbie in your unit to fully recover."

    She looked at me, "You have phenomenal luck. I just wish Zach had it as well.", she said bleakly.

    The air got heavy and I looked down, unable to come up with anything to say.

    "I used to look forward to meeting the Crown Princess or even High Prince Gawain. But you are the first royal I have met. Slightly disappointed but it will suffice. It was good to meet you, your Highness.", Juliet gave a slight bow and walked past me.

    Argus the mechanical wolf, sniffed me for a few seconds before following its master. I saw them turn left and disappear along the corridor.

    "Sorry about that. She just lost her close friend. Argus was Zach''s mechanima. It looks like Juliet has taken him in.", Felix told me.

    "Mechanima.", I muttered and searched through my new memories.

    Ah yes. Found it.

    Mechanical automatons of different animals and ardimals. There is a considerable variety of mechanima and they can be modified to any extent.

    If you want a mechanical penguin that can make amazing smoothies, bust up some cool swordsmanship, and be capable of shooting lasers out of its eyes, you can get it as long as you have the materials and a skilled crafter.

    Felix smiled, "Yeah. Most veteran Deathwalkers have at least one mechanima. They are good companions and very useful on the battlefield."

    "Mechanimas are more versatile than combat vehicles and their efficiency is high. Most are used as mounts but there are some used for recon and since we Deathwalkers use them, they are also autonomous weapons."

    I just looked at him in wonder, "Felix. You are a veteran. Do you have a mechanima?"

    He chuckled, "Of course I have. Mine is a panther named Bob."

    "Seriously? Bob?"

    Felix nodded enthusiastically, "Indeed. Imagine getting hunted down by Bob the panther."

    "That would be a rather unique experience.", I noted. "I''ll bring him with me the next time.", he promised.

    "Do you need permission to release your mechanima in Necropolis?", I asked.

    "Yeah. Mechanimas are programmed to be like their living counterparts with a few tweaks for them to adjust to their sophisticated bodies and to make them friendly and loyal to their masters.", Felix replied.

    "But by the end of the day, they are animals, albeit made of metallic parts. You can''t just take a lion out for a walk and expect it not to bite someone''s head off, no matter how friendly it is."

    That is worrying. "Has that ever happened?", I asked.

    Felix shook his head, "Thankfully. Not yet."

    Very reassuring.

    We continued along the corridor and passed more Deathwalkers most of whom gave me curious looks..

    Apparently, thirteen-year-old kids are a pretty rare sight in the Shield, especially from the legendary Pendragon family.

    But judging by their expression after looking at me, I''m pretty sure that I''m not what they expected. They looked disappointed. Some even looked at me with pity.

    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Understandable. Please have a good day after gawking at me.

    We reached an elevator and went down to the ground level. Soon I was standing on Central Plaza.

    And boy, was I blown away by the sight.

    It looked more vast than what I saw from the upper floors. The tree in the middle towered over my small body as I gawked at its lofty branches.

    "Some things seem very different from a different perspective.", Felix commented, amused by my reaction. He turned around, "C''mon man. We''re getting weird looks."

    I followed him around Central Plaza, looking around in awe. This place doesn''t scream ''city of the dead'' to me.

    Then I saw a Deathwalker with his arm in a cast another one with an eyepatch, and then another one in a body bag.

    Okay. I take back my words.

    It is just eerie how no one is even looking at the body being wheeled into one of the corridors. Not even a glance.

    "Death has become the norm in Necropolis. You will get used to it.", Felix said, noticing my gaze.

    Soon we were standing in front of a weapon store, one of many in the plaza. I read the sign.

    Lorvar''s Arsenal

    "One of the best weapon suppliers in the North.", Felix said and turned to me.

    "Do you have money to buy a weapon?", he asked. I just stared at him blankly. His eyebrows furrowed.

    "Please tell me you received a few draigos from the Royal Palace."

    I shook my head, "I forgot to ask."

    Felix smacked his face, "Oh Incarni!"

    Draigo is the currency of the Kingdom. In this world, money is exchanged in the form of electronic transactions and paper bills. Although the use of paper bills is becoming rare nowadays.

    But seriously? How can people move from gold and silver coins to mere pieces of paper as a form of money?

    The future is weird.

    Anyway. It appears that I forgot to ask for money, although I wonder if I would''ve received any in the first place.

    I probably would''ve. Merlin should''ve reminded me to ask for money.

    I swear I will give her a fantastic punch if I survive this place.

    "You really are troublesome.", Felix sighed and fiddled with his bracelet and nodded in satisfaction.

    "It appears that the commander knew this would happen.", he smiled at me, "He gave me some money to spend for you. Let''s go.", he nodded and entered the store.

    A delicate windchime jingled as the door closed behind me. Standing on the counter, inspecting a sword was a beautiful woman in her twenties.

    She has a curvy yet athletic figure with skin the color of sand and long wavy magenta hair. Her long fingers carefully traced the edge of the blade and her teal-colored eyes carefully examined every detail of the blade.

    She wore a grey shirt underneath a denim jacket and black jeans, intricately designed earrings made of a black metal dangle from her ears and I could see a tattoo on her neck. It depicted a falcon with a snake wrapped around its talons.

    She was so focused on the sword that she didn''t notice our entrance.

    Felix tapped on a shield, "Hey Dorothy. You have customers."

    With a slight startle, Dorothy looked up and smiled, "Ah, Felix. Good to see you."

    She put down the sword on the counter and leaned forward as we approached.

    "Who is this cutie?", she asked, looking at me.

    My heart skipped as her dreamy eyes looked into mine and her words flowed like honey, trapping me in it. I gulped and bowed my head to hide my red face.

    "P-pleasure to m-meet you.", I stammered, mustering all the chivalry I have.

    I can''t believe it! I, the silver-tongued Mordred stammering in front of this woman!

    Such is the power of her beauty!

    "Stop teasing him, you witch.", Felix crossed his arms and chastised her, "He''s a kid."

    Dorothy laughed, "Alright Felix. I''ll stop. By the way, who is he? A cousin of yours?", she asked teasingly.

    "As if.", Felix snorted, "You very well know that I have no family left."

    He patted me on the head and grinned, "This is the second High Prince of the Kingdom, Mordred Pendragon."

    Dorothy''s eyes widened in surprise, "Oh Incarni!"

    She bowed her head to me, "Please forgive me for not knowing your identity and teasing you."

    I shook my head, "No it''s fine. I doubt you will be aware of my existence. After all, I rarely step foot outside the Dawn Palace."

    Dorothy nodded, "True. You were quite the mysterious figure. Many wondered if you even existed."

    She gave me a warm smile, "But I am glad you do exist, Your Highness. You are such a handsome young man."

    She bowed her head again, "I, Dorothy Lorvar, humbly greet His Highness, High Prince Mordred Pendragon."

    I nodded, "Thank you, Miss Dorothy. You may raise your head and please, just call me Mordred. I will be here for the next three years. If I''m lucky."

    "Oh My! You''ve become a Deathwalker?", she looked disturbed and glanced at Felix, "He is not supposed to be here. How?"

    He shrugged, "Royal decree I''m afraid."

    She sighed, "What is the High King thinking? Sending his youngest son to this hell on earth?"

    "You poor thing.", she looked at me with pity.

    I gave a sheepish smile, "Thank you for your concern but I''m aware of my situation. No need to look at me with those eyes."

    "My apologies.", she stood up and walked around the counter.

    She gestured to the different types of weapons on display in the shop, "We''re not as popular as the other stores but our weapons are high quality."

    "He will not admit it, but my old man is the best crafter in the North.", Dorothy said with pride.

    She looked at me, "So What is your preferred weapon, Mordred?"

 21 These Arent Sneakers

    "Nope. This is not it."

    A battle axe sailed past my head and embedded itself into the wall.

    I gulped. That was the third deadly weapon just narrowly missing me.

    "Just how hard is it to find a pair of bloody daggers?", Dorothy grumbled as she walked around the storeroom, searching among an arsenal of weapons scattered around.

    She couldn''t find daggers that were suitable for me on display so she led us to the storeroom to find a good pair from the many weapons in the racks.

    Although I said that I required a pair of daggers like the ones I had for my first battle, Dorothy insisted that I must get the best.

    "Being royalty has its perks.", Felix remarked with a chuckle. He quickly caught an arrow that would''ve pierced his eye.

    The guy has good reflexes.

    "You don''t have to be from the royal family to receive perks.", Dorothy said and scowled at Felix, "Your endless discount coupons are ruining our business."

    Felix shrugged, "Hey! I can''t refuse coupons given to me by old man Harold himself."

    Dorothy sighed, "I told him many times not to go drinking with you."

    She crossed her arms, "Looks like I am going to have to refuse coupons from you."

    "Hey! You can''t do that to your customer!", Felix protested and turned to me, "She can''t do that, right?"

    I just shrugged, "I don''t know. I just came here."

    He sighed, "Bugger."

    Dorothy smirked, "That ought to teach you a lesson."

    With that, she continued on the search. During that time I tried other weapons. I can say that ended well.

    I almost lost my head when I tried to lift a huge scythe and the thing slipped from my hands, Felix almost had a lethal haircut when I accidentally shot a spinning blade from a launcher at him.

    As the two of us were trying not to get killed by my selection of weapons, a second daemon alarm blared all over Necropolis, and Deathwalkers were teleported to the battlefield in a flash of green.

    Again, neither I nor Felix was teleported.

    "Don''t worry. Third time''s a charm.", Felix winked at me.

    Very reassuring man. Very reassuring.

    "But damn.", he picked up a dusty sword and examined it, "Althea is sure going to be busy today."

    "Tell me about it.", Dorothy grumbled as she tossed away a hammer shaped like a goose.

    I couldn''t help but ask, "Why do you have a goose-shaped battle hammer?"

    Dorothy sighed, "Please don''t ask. Some customers are weird."

    She glanced at Felix, "Well, Deathwalkers are cracked, after all."

    "I heard that!", Felix called out as he examined a collection of different weapons. He raised an eyebrow at me.

    "Don''t just stand there! You also search. Dorothy will take forever to find a good pair of daggers for you."

    And so I joined in the hunt for my weapon. I found many different types of daggers and tried them all but none satisfied me.

    After about an hour Felix and I were sitting in the middle of the storeroom, resting after an exhaustive search. Dorothy had gone to take care of a customer.

    "This is harder than I thought.", Felix wiped the dust off his hands.

    "You must have a weapon to even have a small chance when you get teleported but you are too weak for any of the weapons here.", he sighed.

    "Sorry.", My gaze went to the floor.

    "Don''t blame yourself.", he gave me a warm smile and got up, "Let''s find you a suitable pair of daggers.", he held out his hand.

    I smiled and he helped me up. That was when something caught my eye.

    I brushed past Felix and approached a rack containing weapons. Swords, axes, bows, guns, spears, daggers, and many other deadly toys were arranged in the rack.

    But what caught my eye was the dusty shoebox lying at the bottom of the rack, almost hidden by the other dusty weapons.

    I carefully took it out, my nose wrinkled as a small dust cloud rose from the clattering weapons.

    I looked down at it. The box was not remarkable, it was a simple cardboard box, used to pack a good pair of sneakers.

    But it had weight.

    I don''t think this box contains the latest pair of sneakers.

    "That looks old.", Felix remarked as he stood beside me and looked at the box. I nodded, "It''s been here for years. Dorothy might know."

    "What did you guys find?", Dorothy asked as she approached us with a smile. Her eyes fell on the box I was holding and her smile faded.

    "Mordred. Where did you get that?", she asked, pushing Felix away to have a good look at the box.

    "At the bottom of that rack.", I pointed out and looked at Dorothy who was still examining the box, "Do you know what is inside?"

    She shook her head, "No idea. It appears that this box was here even before I took charge of the shop."

    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    She frowned, "Weird that I never really looked into it."

    Dorothy looked at me, "Well? What are you waiting for? Open it."

    I admit, I am quite nervous about opening it. I gulped and lifted the lid.

    All three of our eyes widened at what lay inside the box.

    More packaging.

    "Well. That was anticlimactic.", Felix remarked and looked carefully at the packaging and frowned.

    "Judging from the shape, these aren''t sneakers."

    "We can see that, genius.", Dorothy rolled her eyes. They started bickering again.

    I ignored them and carefully removed the packaging.

    Felix and Dorothy stopped their bickering when they heard me gasp. They looked at what I uncovered and gasped as well.

    Inside the box, snuggled in the packaging is a pair of single-edged daggers unlike anything I had seen, even in my past life.

    I picked up one of them and was surprised by how perfect the weight was. I examined it and was entranced by its beauty.

    The blade was of the purest white with the edge tinted with bright green as if emeralds were powdered and turned to paint.

    The handle is wrapped in grey leather that looked quite worn yet the blade had no signs of wear and tear.

    Somebody once used these daggers and took really good care of them.

    "By the Incarni.", Dorothy''s eyes widened as she stared at the dagger. She held out her hand at me, "May I?"

    I gave her the dagger and she examined every single detail of it. I thought I saw recognition in her eyes which was immediately replaced by curiosity.

    She touched the edge and immediately drew back her finger as if she touched a hot object.

    A thin stream of blood slowly trickled down her hand. "Oh shit.", she swore before she stiffened and the dagger clattered to the ground.

    "Dorothy!", Felix yelled and I almost dropped the box. Dorothy looked like she was frozen in place when she blinked.

    "I''m fine.", She slowly moved her limbs and her neck, "Good thing I am immune to most poisons."

    She noticed me and Felix staring at her, "What? Crafters consume small amounts of poison to build up immunity. Very helpful when you are making stuff involving poisons."

    "Anyway.", she picked up the dagger, "I still can''t believe I''m holding it. This is Moonsilver."

    We just looked at her dumbfounded, "What?"

    She sighed, "Of course, you guys won''t know about this. This is something known only to Crafter families."

    Dorothy held up the dagger for us to see properly, its white blade glinting in the light.

    "These daggers are made from the rarest form of silver in the world."

    She began to explain, "The formation of Moonsilver takes place over thousands of years under very specific conditions. The silver ore has to be exposed to moonlight and darkness."

    "That seems highly unlikely.", Felix frowned.

    "If moonlight can fall on the ore, then surely sunlight will also fall on it.", he pointed out.

    Dorothy nodded, "Indeed. You have a good point."

    She then smiled, "But there is a place that has never seen the sun and has the moon and stars as its partners in the sky."

    Felix widened his eyes, "No way. Someone actually went there?"

    Dorothy looked at me, "Have you heard of the island of Nyxios?"

    Ah. I may know it. Time for my new knowledge to be in the spotlight.

    "The island of endless night?", I asked. Dorothy nodded.

    "Yep. Located in the far north. It is the only place in the world where the sun never appears in the sky. The perfect place for Moonsilver to form. But the journey there is very dangerous. Violent storms, sea monsters straight out of nightmares. and a lot of other nasty stuff."

    She held up the dagger, "Moonsilver is extremely effective against supernatural beings like the daemons, more than schattium."

    Dorothy put the dagger back into the box, "My father once told me that someone had brought Moonsilver from Nyxios after facing the dangerous journey there and asked him to craft a pair of daggers."

    "There was enough Moonsilver to make a sword but he made the daggers anyway. I believe these are those very daggers."

    She pointed at the green-tinted edges of the daggers.

    "Looks like my father had added powdered basilisk emerald to the edges. Talk about making things more deadly."

    "Basilisk emerald?", I am confused.

    Dorothy nodded, "It is an emerald that mimics the paralysis ability of a basilisk''s eyes. Many say the emerald is found inside a basilisk and gives the power of paralysis to its eyes."

    She shook her head, "That is clearly bullshit. The basilisk is a powerful creature. The reason people say that stuff is because basilisk emeralds are usually found in the nest of the creature."

    "For some weird reason, basilisk hoard emeralds. The most accepted explanation is that the emeralds absorb the aura of the basilisk and manifest its paralysis ability."

    Dorothy looked at the daggers, "Judging from the intensity of the color, it seems my father used a fair amount of the stuff."

    "With that amount of powdered basilisk emerald, I guess there is a twenty-five percent chance of the daggers inflicting the opponent with paralysis for a set amount of time."

    Felix whistled, "That''s sick. For how long?"

    Dorothy shook her head, "I guess you should find out."

    I looked at the daggers. Looks like there will be some experiments in the future if I buy them.

    My gaze went back to Dorothy and she had a distant look in her eyes, "I once saw the client using them and it was a truly beautiful sight."

    "Do you know who the client was?", I asked.

    Dorothy looked at me as if she wanted to tell me but she shook her head, "Sorry. I never asked for the name."

    I can see that she was lying. She is hiding something.

    I didn''t press it. She might have a good reason not to tell it. I don''t have to worry though. She will tell me soon enough. Until then, I''ll wait.

    I removed the daggers from the box and held them in my hands. They are perfectly balanced and the weight is exactly what I prefer.

    "Please stand back.", I told Felix and Dorothy. They wisely heeded my words.

    I gripped the daggers and did some practice swings. Dorothy was quite surprised to see my movements with the daggers.

    "Have you received training before?", she asked.

    "In the Dawn Palace. The commander once showed me the basics and my brother helped in my training.", I replied.

    I did a few practice swings and smiled, "This is the one."

    I nodded to Felix. He grinned and gave me a thumbs-up. I turned to Dorothy.

    "I would like to have this dagger. I''m aware that it is very valuable and I may not have enough money to pay for it. Please let me have it and I will make sure to pay the full amount in time."

    "So how much is it?"

    Dorothy looked at the daggers and then at my face. She had a rather curious expression on her face.

    "How much do you have?", she asked.

    I looked at Felix. he checked the amount that Kay sent him. He looked quite worried.

    "Ten thousand draigos.", he gave me a sympathetic look, "I don''t know Mordred. The cheapest dagger here costs about two thousand and those are made of Moonsilver, an extremely rare metal."

    "Ten thousand?", Dorthy raised her eyebrows.

    I nodded awkwardly and proceeded to pick up the box. Back to weapon hunting, I guess.

    "Wait Mordred.", Dorothy called out. She was smiling.

    "You wanna buy those daggers? That will be two thousand draigos."

 22 I Try An Old Trick

    I stared at Dorothy, dumbfounded.

    "You sure about this?", I asked.

    Felix''s face lit up with a wide grin, "No way. Mordred! This is the ultra-rare Dorothy Discount!"

    "Shut up Felix.", Dorothy glared at him. Her face softened when she looked at me.

    "You are right. These Moonsilver daggers are very valuable. But they are weapons and weapons are meant to be used. Plus these have been here for a long time so their prices are kind of undetermined."

    She smiled, "The seller determines the price. If these daggers make sure you remain alive in Blood Valley, then I can afford to get a slight loss. Also, I believe their previous owner would like you to have them."

    I looked at her, amazed by her actions. The way she spoke about the previous owner, I''m sure she knows them but she won''t tell me.

    I wouldn''t have to worry about that. I have plenty of time.

    Well, as long as I don''t die.

    "Thank you, Miss Dorothy.", I said and bowed my head.

    Dorothy laughed, "Never expected to see a High Prince thanking me with his head bowed. You are such a cutie."

    "Raise your head, Your Highness. You may be a Deathwalker but you are still a High Prince."

    She took the daggers from my hand and walked out of the storeroom, "I''ll pack them in something that is not a dusty shoebox."

    Felix patted me on the shoulder and followed Dorothy, "Hey Dorothy, I want to buy some Flare arrows. Any chance you can extend that discount to include me?"

    "No."

    "Oh come on!", he complained as we stood at the counter. Dorothy took a cloth and wiped the dust from the daggers.

    "Your Highness.", she said as she cleaned the white blades.

    "Things will be quite hellish here.", she looked me in the eyes.

    "So be sure to survive."

    *******

    "This is your accommodation during your time as a newbie."

    "It''s not a room of the Dawn Palace but it''s comfy", Felix said as he opened the door to my room.

    It is a small room sparsely furnished with a single bed, a desk and chair, and a cupboard. My suitcase was already there, placed on the bed.

    There is a window that thankfully shows the view on the other side of the Shield. The mountains of Les Anciennes seemingly stretched out forever. A blizzard has started outside.

    Hard to believe that I am in the middle of a mountain range and I''m supposed to fight in these kinds of weather? That''s crazy.

    I looked at Felix, "Didn''t we pass a huge dorm room with bunk beds and lockers? Are those for the newbies?"

    He nodded, "Yep. That is the usual accommodation for newbies. They''ll stay there until they survive seven battles."

    "After that, they''ll be assigned rooms and roommates. That applies to you as well."

    "Survive six more battles and you''ll get a better room and a roommate."

    I raised an eyebrow, "Why not put me there? Am I getting special treatment because I am from the royal family?"

    Felix gave an awkward smile, "Kind of. You see, many Deathwalkers are sentenced to the Shield by your father, the High King."

    I just looked at him, "Oh."

    "Yeah.", he slowly nodded, "Some of them are not the biggest fans of His Majesty. And when they hear the news of you, the weakest High Prince in the Shield. It will be the same as a rabbit in a wolf den."

    Suddenly I am feeling the urge to slam the door on his face and live the rest of my life in the small room.

    "Will they kill me?", I asked in a small voice.

    "Incarni! No! They will not.", Felix shook his head.

    "The biggest single rule here is no killing in the Shield. We already have a staggering death count. No need to increase it."

    "But they''ll make things miserable for you. They cannot kill you but they can break you.", he said with a grim expression.

    "But I''m a kid."

    "Doesn''t matter to them. Like I told you, Deathwalkers are cracked."

    "Well. That feels reassuring.", I grumbled

    "Hey.", Felix placed a hand on my shoulder, "The commander put me in charge of you. If those guys want to get you, they must get through me first."

    "Not to brag, but I am kind of a big name in Necropolis.", he said with pride.

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    "I hope you are. My life is already miserable. I don''t want it to get worse.", I said and glanced at my bracelet.

    "Will I be teleported for battle after a while?"

    "I doubt there will be another attack today but those daemons are an unpredictable bunch. So be ready to be teleported any time.", Felix said.

    I nodded, "Understood. Any chance you''ll be teleported as well?"

    He shook his head, "I doubt it. But if that happens I''ll be sure to cover you."

    "Take some rest until then.", with a smile he waved me bye and left.

    I closed the door and looked around my new room. Felix was right. It may be small but it''s cozy.

    I took a step forward before freezing in my place as I noticed something.

    Where is the bathroom?

    Panic started to well up in me at the thought of entering a shared bathroom full of guys who wanted to make my life very hard.

    I desperately scanned the room for a second door but couldn''t find one.

    Just as I was about to mentally prepare myself for the dreaded things I imagined would happen to me, I noticed something on the wall beside my bed.

    It was at the corner of the wall having the window and the wall beside my bed.

    I walked to that spot and sighed in relief. It was a doorknob. I grabbed the doorknob and twisted it.

    That section of the wall slid open and revealed a small yet adequately equipped bathroom. Never had I ever been glad to see a toilet in my life, old and current alike.

    With that concern out of my head, I went over to my bed and plopped on it. It was quite comfortable.

    Alright then. It won''t be long before I am teleported to the battlefield.

    I must prepare myself for it. I opened my suitcase and took out a small knife. First, let''s further explore my strand.

    I slit my finger and blood flowed from the cut. I watched it flow down my hand.

    Not much change.

    I then willed Haema to activate. Suddenly, the blood stopped flowing from my wound as if time had frozen.

    I willed it to flow back into the wound and it did. The blood was sucked back into the wound until a single drop remained.

    I stopped and the drop stayed on my finger like dew on a leaf. I healed my wound and looked at the single drop of blood.

    Hm. I wonder.

    I willed the single drop to expand and to my pleasant surprise, it did. The drop expanded into a considerable amount of blood and flowed in the air like a river.

    I held out my hand and the blood circled it. I smiled.

    I was worried using Haema would be the same as bleeding where the amount of blood in my body would decrease the more I use the strand.

    It''s a good thing that Haema can expand the blood outside my body. I don''t have to worry about blood loss.

    Yay.

    I took out my new daggers and looked between them and the blood circling my arm.

    Hm. I''m not sure about this but I need to see what happens. I placed the white daggers on the table and directed my blood at them.

    My blood crept toward the daggers and wrapped around the grey handles until they turned crimson.

    I concentrated and to my delight, the daggers floated in the air. I manipulated them to the extent of my control.

    I held out my hand and tried to summon one of them. It worked out too well.

    The dagger shot towards me and in my panic, I accidently turned it around.

    With a yelp, I ducked as the dagger flew way too close over my head and embedded itself into the wall.

    Okay. Maybe I concentrated too hard.

    I deactivated Haema and the second dagger clattered on the desk and the blood enveloping the handle splattered on it.

    I grabbed the handle of the dagger embedded into the wall

    It was slick with my blood but I ignored it and yanked the white blade out of the wall.

    Well. At least I know I can control the daggers with my strand. It just needs a bit more tweaking.

    Now then. Time to try out an old trick of mine.

    I sat cross-legged on the floor, closed my eyes, and started breathing at certain intervals.

    It was a breathing technique I mastered in my previous world and it saved my life countless times, even in this world where I temporarily used it in the battle against the daemons.

    This enables me to enter a state of heightened senses, where my perception of the world is highly magnified. In this state of heightened senses and focus, time seems to slow down for me.

    That was the case in my old world.

    In this new world, where there is ardor in the very air I breathe. I wonder how things will go.

    I can feel the ardor entering my lungs and spreading all over my body. I focused ardor on my senses while I maintained the breathing technique.

    After about five cycles of specialized breathing, I can feel the changes. My hearing has enhanced so much that I can clearly hear the sound of snowflakes falling against my soundproof window and the roaring winds of the blizzard deafened me.

    I can even make out the heartbeats and breathing of the people walking past my door.

    Disturbingly I can also hear the screams of Deathwalkers and artilleries on the battlefield despite the soundproofing inside the Shield.

    My sense of smell has also been enhanced to a greater degree.

    I can detect every unique smell in this room, from the fresh smell of lavender from the air freshener to the sweet metallic smell of blood that lingered on my uniform despite it being thoroughly cleaned.

    Ugh. Nasty.

    Pushing that out of my mind, I slowly opened my eyes.

    Whoa. It was better than I anticipated.

    The blizzard raging outside the window had slowed down to a snail''s pace.

    In my past life whenever I used this technique, things would only slow down just enough for me to barely make a move.

    Sometimes I even missed my chance.

    I moved my hand and immediately noticed something wrong. My arm is moving slowly, it looks like it is moving through syrup.

    Don''t ask me how I know what moving through syrup looks like. Some things are better left in the dark.

    But this slow movement of my arm is not what I need. It appears that even if I have an enhanced perception of the world, it would be meaningless if my body can''t respond according to it.

    My body is too weak to move in this transcended state. What a bloody inconvenience.

    Hm. Transcendence. That is a good name.

    I thought about the problem while the world moved at a snail''s pace around me as my transcendence state continued.

    The world around me would be slow but from the outside perspective, my actions and thinking would be very quick.

    What probably took me ten minutes to figure out in my transcendent state would take only several seconds to the outside perspective.

    Ah. I found a solution.

    Modern knowledge sure is helpful.

 23 I Accelerate My Blood (Please Dont Try This)

    From the new fountain of knowledge in my brain, I was able to find out a few interesting things.

    Increased blood flow in the body can improve performance.

    An increased blood flow increases the amount of oxygen to the different parts of the body. This can improve performance.

    With Haema, I may be able to increase my blood flow without exerting my body anytime I want.

    It can increase my performance and further enhance my senses.

    With this, I will be able to prolong the transcendent state.

    And if I stream Ardor throughout my body like a Spiker, My strength and durability will increase.

    Maintaining transcendence, controlling Haema, and constantly streaming ardor throughout my body.

    I have to do all of them simultaneously to have a chance against the daemons.

    Fantastic.

    Heh. A walk in the park for a genius like me.

    I hope so. Otherwise, I am so fucking screwed.

    I took a deep breath and calmed down. I then grabbed my daggers.

    My movements from my new perspective are so slow! Oh Incarni!

    Maintaining my transcendental breathing technique, I first activated Haema and focused. I closed my eyes and closed off all the voices around me.

    I concentrated hard and tried to feel the blood in my body. I tried to hear the sound of blood flowing in my blood vessels. I focused on my beating heart, pumping blood all over my body.

    Normally, an increased heartbeat increases blood flow along with the widening of the blood vessels by vasodilation.

    What I am trying to do is increase the flow of the blood itself. Just like how I can manipulate blood outside my body, I may be able to manipulate the blood flowing in my body.

    I focused on the blood flowing in my vessels and willed it to speed up.

    That went terrific.

    I doubled over and coughed out blood.

    Too much speed. That caused some of my blood vessels and capillaries to rupture and now I am bleeding internally.

    My transcendent state was broken as I collapsed on the floor wincing in pain and becoming nauseous.

    I gritted my teeth and used Haema to heal every single rupture. After about ten minutes of agony, the pain subsided and I started feeling better.

    After about twenty minutes of lying on the floor and cursing myself, I slowly got up and shook my head.

    The healing caused by Haema sure is amazing.

    I rubbed my head and sighed. I should''ve enhanced my body with ardor before trying to accelerate my blood.

    Bloody idiot. I was too hasty.

    I looked outside the window. It has become night time and the blizzard is still growing strong. I will be fighting daemons in this weather.

    I shuddered at the thought.

    Okay. Let''s think of the order of things to do.

    First body enhancement, then blood acceleration, and finally transcendence.

    Let''s do this.

    I took a deep breath and controlled the ardor entering my body. I closed my eyes and visualized it covering my entire body and a part of it seeping into my muscles and focused.

    A cool and refreshing sensation went over my skin as ardor moved through my body, enhancing and strengthening my muscles, vessels, organs, and senses.

    I slowly opened my eyes and was surprised by the result. In just a minute, my body is covered in ardor.

    I whistled as I saw the faint glimmer of ardor on my hand like a second skin over my body. I feel stronger.

    I''m impressed.

    The ardor control of this body is phenomenal. It is way higher than most B-ranked warlocks. With proper training along with his genius-level intellect, the previous Mordred would''ve become a formidable Linker.

    If he hadn''t been treated the way he was, who knows where he could''ve reached? He had some latent talent that surfaced rather late.

    It would''ve been a waste if I hadn''t taken over after his death.

    I clenched my fist. Don''t worry kid. I''ll make sure to fully unlock this body''s potential.

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    I picked up my daggers from the floor. They felt incredibly light. I held the one in my right hand in reverse grip and activated Haema.

    This time, I was careful.

    I slowly increased the speed of the blood flow until it was just slow enough for the exchange of substances to occur.

    I can feel my mind sharpening along with my senses. My previous nausea and any fatigue I accumulated today vanished. I feel refreshed. My blood vessels bulged as the blood flow increased and I smiled.

    So far so good. Even if a problem arises, I can use my strand to heal myself.

    I chuckled. The previous Mordred had awakened his strand only a week ago and yet the control is this good.

    Just how was he so weak?

    Okay. Now for the final part.

    I entered transcendence using my breathing technique and everything slowed. My eyes fell on the daggers in my hands.

    Moment of truth.

    I did a vertical slash upwards with my right arm and to my delight, it worked. In this slowed-down world, I can move quickly.

    A wide grin appeared on my face and I followed with a thrust with the left dagger. I was caught up in the revelry and I did a few dagger swings with glee.

    Soon I was dancing around my room with the white daggers, doing every single movement I learned in my past life. I felt amazing and a hearty laugh escaped my mouth.

    The next minute I am lying on the floor on my face.

    "Ow.", I groaned, turning over and clutching my nose. My mind feels tired and I can sense a headache blooming in my skull.

    Looks like I can''t have all three simultaneously for a long period. My body enhancement and blood acceleration are still active but transcendence leaves a rather heavy toll on my body and mind.

    Mostly my mind.

    Five minutes.

    That''s how long the current me can use all three of them together.

    My survival rate against the daemons is starting to become rather questionable. My old friend Dread started to creep up on me.

    I shook my head. Not to worry. There is one more thing I can do.

    In my past life, I was able to quickly activate and deactivate transcendence during battles. Transcendence utilizes the mind and the senses so I could activate it at certain intervals during the battle.

    I stopped streaming ardor throughout my body and slowed down my blood flow. Immediately, fatigue hit me like a battering ram.

    I struggled to get up and dragged my tired body to the bed. As soon as my head touched the pillow, I was out.

    And I had a weird and terrifying dream of a daemon chasing me with a massive goose-shaped hammer.

    I was almost thankful for the daemon alarm that woke me up.

    I snapped awake and the first thing I saw was the blinking light on my bracelet.

    Ah, shit. I''m about to be teleported. I looked out the window. It was almost dawn and the blizzard had passed.

    The light was blinking faster as the alarm blared around me. I quickly grabbed my white daggers and straightened my crumpled uniform.

    Here goes. I hope I will survive.

    "This is going to hurt.", I said as a bright green light enveloped me.

    *******

    I am starting to hate Minerva.

    Why am I getting mad at the Shield AI?

    Where do I begin?

    Oh yeah. She just plopped me right at the vanguard of the newbie unit of the Deathwalker army.

    So the first I see in the morning is the dark, gaping, swirling maw of the Tear.

    What a way to start the day.

    Just perfect.

    "Alright, New blood! To kill a daemon, you go for the heart or whatever there is in that swirling wretched chest of theirs."

    The captain of the newbie squad, a young woman in her early twenties told the assembled Deatwalker recruits and newbies.

    She sat on a mechanima that looked like a supersized tiger. Its blue metallic plates with yellow stripes shifted as it prowled back and forth with its owner giving instructions.

    Everyone in the newbie unit was looking at her and her mount. After all, she''s the only one in the newbie unit with a mechanima.

    I can see that the Shield received brand new recruits in two days.

    Where are they even getting the manpower?

    I noticed the terrified and nervous looks on the faces of most of the fresh newbies. I also noticed the much calmer faces of others in the newbie unit.

    They seem to be the newbies who survived previous battles or even fresh blood confident in their abilities and skills.

    Or maybe both.

    The captain was still speaking, "And after striking the hearts. Get far away from the daemons you killed unless you want to die a horrible death."

    Everyone nodded in understanding.

    She looked at all of us. Her eyes lingered a bit longer on me, "Any questions? We don''t have much time."

    In the distance, the darkness of the Tear began to ripple. She''s right, the daemons are almost out.

    "Captain!", the young man next to me raised his hand, almost startling me.

    He is tall, slim, and quite a handsome lad. He had a sword and he had an air of elegance on him. Probably a noble.

    "Yes, newbie?", the captain said, looking in our direction.

    "Why is there a kid here?", the young man asked, glancing at me.

    Seriously? That is your doubt?

    Previously, only a few were stealing glances at me. Now every eye in the newbie unit is on me. They all looked at me in confusion and wonder, probably wondering the same thing

    ''What is a little kid doing in this blood-soaked battlefield?''

    I just gave them an innocent smile and a cheerful wave. I was not all bothered by this sudden attention I was receiving. In fact, I am quite used to it.

    I used to be a king after all.

    The captain''s eyes were also on me. Perhaps she received information about me because she looked at the young man beside me and said.

    "He is a special case."

    But before she could say anything else, bells rang and echoed all over the valley.

    "Here they come! Ready weapons!", she yelled and got ready for battle.

    I saw the first wave of daemons emerging from the Tear. An unnatural chill passed over me and I shuddered, those faceless visages were already giving me some bad memories.

    I shook my head to clear unwanted and distracting thoughts, I gripped my daggers, enhanced my body, and activated Haema for blood acceleration.

    I must survive. It doesn''t matter what I have to do.

    And so my second dance with death begins.

 24 Tony The Tiger Saves My Life

    I immediately activated transcendence.

    That decision extended my life span.

    Everything slowed around me at a snail''s pace. The snow, the movements of the Deathwalkers, and the turning of the turrets on the walls of the valley.

    Well, except for that spear-sized arrow hurtling toward my head at the speed at which a normal person would throw a spear.

    Terribly slow for a daemon but fast for a normal human from my old world.

    With a yelp, I ducked low and the massive arrow soared over my head.

    The sound of a sharp high-speed projectile passing through bone and flesh made me wince as the arrow killed the Deathwalkers behind me, skewering their heads like kebabs.

    "Now cue the screaming.", I muttered.

    Chaos and panic spread across the newbies as the daemons descended upon them like ghosts, flickering into existence and moving too fast for the eye to see.

    Screams, blood flowing and flesh tearing surrounded me as I quickly weaved between the newbie Deathwalkers.

    They attacked as soon as their feet touched the red snow. Those daemons sure don''t waste time.

    I saw the captain fighting a twelve-foot-tall giant of a daemon wielding a greatsword with her twin axes enveloped in lightning.

    I made my way toward her. Staying by her side will be the safest option in my current situation.

    Suddenly I felt a chill on my back and my battle-hardened instincts screamed at me. I activated transcendence and quickly leaned back as a serrated sword passed the air where my face was a second ago.

    Oh Incarni! That was close!

    I bent my knees and skidded on the snow before quickly turning around and facing a lean daemon over six feet tall.

    Darkness billowed like smoke out of its body as it turned its head at me.

    No expression was on the faceless visage but I''m sure it was surprised.

    I stopped blood acceleration and streamed more ardor over my body. I''ve boosted my performance for the time being and focused on strengthening my body with ardor.

    Plus it also helps to extend transcendence.

    But even with my enhanced perception and focus, the daemon was still quick as it dashed at me and slashed at me with its serrated sword.

    I raised my daggers and coated them with ardor. Sparks flew as the serrated teeth of the black sword quickly ground against the green edges of the white daggers.

    The force was enough to blow me away but I held my ground and gritted my teeth as my arms threatened to break from the force despite the ardor enhancement.

    This fucker is too strong!

    Fortunately, I was able to block the deadly slash from killing me.

    Unfortunately, the serrated tip of the blade made contact with my wrist and a deep burning gash appeared on my forearm.

    I winced in pain but before I could do anything, a searing hot pain exploded from my right side as the daemon stabbed me right in the liver.

    A scream of pain escaped my mouth as the daemon slowly pulled the blade out of my body. The pain was so horrible that I almost blacked out.

    I can feel the malice from the faceless creature as it sadistically pulled out the thin serrated blade, causing further damage.

    Oh no you don''t.

    Amidst the extreme pain, I gritted my teeth and plunged the dagger that I held in my right hand into the sword hand of the daemon, momentarily stopping it from pulling back the sword.

    I then flipped the left dagger into a reverse grip and streamed ardor into the blade. The green edge glowed and the dagger hissed like a snake as more ardor entered it.

    Activating Haema, I used blood acceleration for a quick boost and transferred the ardor covering the rest of my body into my left arm.

    All of this happened within a minute. I swung the dagger at the daemon''s wrist with a defiant yell. The blade made contact with the swirling darkness and sliced the hand off like butter.

    The daemon quickly jumped back away from me. It turned its head at the severed part, where what appeared to be liquid darkness oozed to the ground like tar.

    The severed hand holding the sword dissipated into darkness along with the serrated sword.

    The daemon turned its head toward me, specifically to my daggers.

    Despite the crippling pain ravaging my right side and the bleeding, my lips curled into a smile.

    I finally got a strike. These Moonsilver daggers pack quite a punch.

    Unfortunately, my small victory was very short-lived.

    I felt another chill behind me and my eyes widened. I forgot the daemon I was facing was not the only one.

    This is a battlefield, not an arena.

    Before I could even react, I felt something cold and sharp touch my arm and pierce my skin.

    I turned my head around and in my transcendence state, I saw a long sword, making its way into my right forearm.

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    I won''t be able to respond in time fully. There is no avoiding it and even if I do something, the damage will be more severe than a sliced-off hand.

    So I clenched my teeth, moved my arm a bit, and braced for the pain.

    I just hope the healers in Althea are good at their job.

    The seven-foot-tall daemon that appeared behind me sliced off my arm right below the elbow. Seeing that happen in slow motion was the worst part of the experience.

    Not that the pain was any better. It burned like hell and was pure agony. I''m pretty sure I cried out in pain.

    Oh. And I was still using blood acceleration.

    Blood was gushing out of the stump like a high-pressure water hose. I streamed ardor into my legs and quickly jumped to the side, a short distance away from the two daemons.

    I stopped accelerating my blood and focused Haema on my side and severed my arm, stopping the bleeding and barely closing my wounds.

    It''s no good. I already lost a lot of blood and I could feel my body getting weaker. My vision is getting blurry and my ardor enhancement is wearing off.

    The screaming and sounds of battle didn''t help either.

    I can feel the chill as the daemons approach me, ready to send me to the afterlife.

    I stabilized my breathing and redirected my strand as the black longsword appeared in my vision.

    A clang resounded in my ears. I opened my eyes and saw the dagger I dropped locking against the black longsword of the daemon. It was suspended in midair and its handle was covered in blood.

    My blood.

    A small smile crept up my lips as the fragile-looking dagger held off against the might of the daemon.

    The daemon swung the sword again, only to be blocked by the white dagger again. My head became clearer as my strand healed my body.

    I wiped the blood on my jacket onto the handle of my second dagger and threw it at the daemon.

    Using Haema, I willed one dagger to defend myself from the daemon''s blows, and the other whizzed around us, attacking the daemon.

    Unfortunately, the current power of my strand was not enough to take on the daemon as the dagger barely cut the dark swirling body of the daemon and I coughed out blood every time the black sword struck my dagger.

    The battle raged around me as I desperately fended off the daemon. In the corner of my eye, I saw a daemon grab hold of a Deathwalker and ripped his body into two pieces. His organs and vertebrae fell on the bloody snow in a waterfall of blood and guts.

    Oh. I guess some of you were eating. Oops.

    Anyway.

    My instinct kicked in and I saw the daemon whose hand I cut off, coming at me from the side. Its clawed left hand stretched out to rip my head off.

    I cursed. I won''t be able to defend against that and I''m starting to lose control of my strand. I''m almost at my limit and the pain is just awful. I''m surprised I haven''t backed out yet.

    The six-foot daemon is almost at me. I can feel the darkness oozing out of it.

    It all happened at the same time.

    The daemon striking down with the longsword suddenly froze in place as the paralyzing effect of my dagger took effect and the daemon about to rip my head off was blown away by getting hit with something.

    That something was a big blue mechanical tiger enveloped in lightning.

    "Good job, kid!", I saw a flash of red hair and the captain of the newbie unit appeared beside me.

    In a single fluid motion, she sliced off the hands of the paralyzed daemon with her twin axes and jumped high in the air.

    Her amber eyes glowed as she activated her Fulgur strand and enveloped her axes with lightning. With a yell and crackling of lightning, she fell on the daemon.

    The now handless seven-foot daemon was recovering from the paralysis effect but it was too late.

    A thundering explosion blew me off my feet and I felt all tingly. I opened my eyes and saw the captain in front of the daemon, her twin axes buried in its chest.

    The daemon''s knees buckled and it fell in front of her. Suddenly it started convulsing.

    The captain cursed and she jumped back to my position. Grabbing my collar she yelled, "We must get out of range!"

    My hair rose and my skin tingled as she enhanced her body with lightning and jumped with me in tow. We landed a good distance from the fallen daemon and my eyes widened at what I saw next.

    The daemon''s body exploded into darkness and I saw a column of crimson smoke rising into the sky and swirling around the lingering darkness, letting out an unearthly scream.

    After spinning around for a minute it dissipated with a final haunting wail.

    "That was close! A few more seconds and I would''ve been barbeque!", the captain said between breaths.

    Somehow we reached the back of the battlefield, right next to the massive wall of the Shield. I can feel the cold of the dracium plates seeping into me as I lay my back against the Shield.

    "Just stay still, your Highness.", the captain said as she took out bandages from her bracelet and wrapped the stump of my severed arm.

    "You know me?", I asked weakly as she gave me a vial of glowing azure liquid.

    "Of course. You are High Prince Mordred Pendragon. Commander Kay briefed me about you, saying you were a special case."

    She smiled which looked out of place with the nasty cross scar under her eye and the vertical scar that stretched from her jaw to her neck.

    "That''s a recovery potion. Please drink it.", she said, pointing at the vial in my hand.

    I opened the vial and drank its contents. Immediately the agonizing pain lessened to a mild one and I felt refreshed. My mind became clear and my healing quickened.

    "Thank you, Captain. What about the other daemon?", I asked.

    "Oh Tony will take care of it.", she assured me.

    "Tony?", I was confused.

    "My mechanima.", she turned around and smiled, "Oh there he comes."

    The mechanima called Tony approached us. Its metal plates were dented and a few were even missing. There was even some damage to the face, even one of its eyes was out.

    Despite the damage, it trotted toward us and snuggled its head under the captain''s arm.

    "Good boy. I''ll fix you soon after this.", she said warmly, "Can you please guard us?"

    The mechanima nodded and stood guard. I was quite surprised that it understood the captain.

    This was a relatively undisturbed area and provided a good vantage point from which I could see the battle.

    A scene literally from hell.

    Deathwalkers died left and right as they fought viciously against the daemons with their weapons, strands, and mechanima.

    The defeated daemons turned into exploding balls of darkness with screaming columns of crimson smoke spinning around and dissipating.

    Sometimes the crimson smoke would rush into the bodies of Deathwalkers who were unable to jump back.

    I observed a girl who stood still after the smoke entered her. The next moment her body convulsed and she let out an unearthly screech.

    What I saw next was something out of a nightmare.

    The girl''s eyes turned completely red and all of her her teeth turned into pointed fangs. Black veins appeared on her skin which became pale as death.

    Her nails grew into pointed black claws and she pounced on a Deathwalker who approached to help. The Deathwalker screamed as the girl tore him apart.

    The sheer violence of the attack shook even me, a previous veteran who faced violent barbarians in my past life.

    "What the hell?", I said in a shaking voice.

    The captain followed my gaze and her face became grim.

    "That is a Wraith. Your Highness."

 25 Oh You Lost An Arm? Here Have Some Tea

    "A wraith."

    I repeated, seeing the transformed girl tear off the head of the very dead Deathwalker.

    The captain sighed and got up, straightening her tall athletic body.

    She took out a black glove with small glowing red stones embedded in the fingers and a metal rod with a pointed end on one side.

    "Is that a stake?", I shifted forward for a closer look.

    That was a terrible idea and pain flared all over my body. Looks like the recovery potion''s pain relief was temporary.

    As long as I don''t make any unnecessary movements for some time after taking it, I will be fine.

    "What are you going to do with that?", I asked with a wince, slowly leaning against the cold dracium plate on the Shield.

    She gave me a grim look, "Something that will ensure my survival."

    Her amber eyes met mine, "And yours as well."

    She turned around and looked at the wraith attacking another Deathwalker, a woman in her early twenties whose screams blended with the sound of battle as the wraith savagely tore off her arms and ripped her entrails out.

    The captain donned the black glove on her left hand and tightened her grip on the stake.

    "Please observe carefully, your Highness. This is how you take care of wraiths."

    Her eyes glowed and lightning enveloped her as she activated her strand. "Tony. Protect the High Prince.", she told her mechanima before disappearing in a brilliant flash.

    As I observed, she appeared above the bloody wraith in a flash of lightning.

    The wraith turned around and snarled like an animal at her. Without hesitation, the captain enveloped the stake with lightning and threw it right at the wraith.

    The metal rod struck the wraith in the heart and pinned her to the ground, right on top of the mutilated corpse of the female Deathwalker.

    Pinned to the ground and unable to move, the wraith released an unholy scream that chilled my blood.

    What happened next would give me nightmares for the rest of my life.

    The captain landed right next to the thrashing yet restrained wraith.

    She gave the wraith, the young girl who transformed into such a bloody abomination a look of pity before snapping the fingers of her gloved hand.

    Raging blue flames erupted out of the gloves and enveloped the wraith.

    My eyes widened in horror as the screams became louder.

    The most disturbing part? It was not the wraith''s unearthly screams but the girl''s agony as the blue flames mercilessly consumed her body.

    She was not the only one. The entirety of Blood Valley echoed with screams of Deathwalkers who turned into wraiths as their skin bubbled and their muscles were cooked by the flames that burned them alive.

    As I saw the captain standing there and watching the girl''s body turn to ash, my eyes widened in horror again.

    A daemon appeared right behind her.

    "Watch out!", I screamed at her.

    But the daemon was too fast as it swung down its greatsword with great speed, ready to cleave her in two.

    The giant sword slammed into the ground and pulverized the burning corpses of the wraith and Deathwalker.

    But it didn''t hit the captain.

    In another flash of lightning, she appeared beside the ten-foot-tall daemon and slammed one of her axes into its shadowy foot.

    She jumped high in the air and just before the daemon could react, cut off its head. As the now headless daemon staggered, she enveloped her right fist with lightning and punched a hole straight through the creature''s heart.

    As the daemon fell, she quickly retrieved her weapons and disappeared in a flash before the daemon exploded into darkness and the crimson smoke spun around it to dissipate after it failed to find a host.

    "The battle is leaning in our favor today.", the captain remarked as she appeared beside me in a flash of lightning.

    "Really?", I looked at the battlefield. The battle against daemons was still raging but the remaining Deathwalkers managed to reach halfway to the Tear and only a few daemons were going past them.

    The one just killed by the captain was one of those.

    The only Deathwalkers in the rear are the ones who are taking a reprieve like me and the ones who are taking care of the daemons that broke through.

    "Was that necessary?", I asked her, looking back at the spot where the wraith was burning a minute ago.

    "That is the only way to vanquish a wraith. I wish there was another, less gruesome way.", she said in a defeated voice.

    "You must stake the wraith in the heart and pin it down, then use the ignition gloves provided in your bracelet to burn them.", she instructed while showing me the special glove she wore.

    "That''s extreme. But the infected person would not be conscious when that happens right?", I asked, looking at her hopefully.

    Her expression betrayed my hopes.

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    "That is the most messed up part of the whole thing, your Highness. When the body of the host begins to burn, the spirit of the wraith escapes."

    "But the moment we douse the flames, the wraith re-enters the host, forcefully heals the body, and turns it more monstrous."

    My mouth suddenly became dry, "Then."

    The captain nodded grimly, "The one we are burning alive is the human host and the worst part is that they are conscious the whole time."

    "That is so messed up. So you guys-", I started to say.

    "We kill fellow Deathwalkers in one of the most horrible ways.", she finished my sentence and scoffed.

    "Even in death, those damn daemons still fuck us up. To me, the daemons win every time even if we were successful. They kill us brutally and turn us into monsters who murder their comrades."

    She looked me in the eyes, "My hands are dripping with the blood of the friends and comrades I killed."

    "There is no redemption for me or any Deathwalker. That includes you as well, your Highness."

    Her voice echoed in my ears and the sounds of battle faded away. I looked into her eyes and was shocked by how hollow they were.

    They say that the eyes are the windows of the soul.

    I cannot see hers. It is as if the light inside her eyes has long been extinguished.

    But before I could say a word, the familiar tingle of danger alerted me. The captain realized it as well as her eyes widened and she shoved me away.

    As I sprawled to the ground and my pain returned with a vengeance, a sharp whizzing sound was heard followed by the sound of flesh and bone being pierced.

    Don''t ask me how I know the sounds that the human body produces when inflicted with trauma. Perhaps it was due to my time being a knight on the battlefield.

    There was a sharp scream followed by a painful grunting. I winced as I sat up and my eyes widened in horror at the sight in front of me.

    A massive arrow like the one that almost took off my arm had pierced through the captain''s left shoulder and pinned her to the dracium panel.

    What is it with daemons and shoulders?

    I looked at the position of the arrow and realization dawned on me. The captain was not the target of the arrow.

    I was.

    She shoved me out of the way just in time but she wasn''t quick enough and as a result, she took an arrow for me.

    Well. Thank you for doing that.

    I felt a familiar chill and looked to my right.

    There, standing a good distance away was an eight-foot-tall daemon holding a massive bow made of darkness.

    It had broken past the advancing Deathwalkers and slaughtered the ones in the rear. It was quite evident from the ring of corpses around it.

    Its head was turned in the captain''s direction. It pulled back the black bowstring and a massive arrow materialized, aimed right at her head.

    Great. These guys can materialize spear-sized arrows out of thin air. Just great.

    The captain is going to have something much worse than a scar on her face.

    How do I help her? Can I even help her?

    I shook my head.

    Of course, I should help her. I was a villain but I remembered the ones who helped me.

    Wincing through the crippling pain ravaging my body, I mustered my voice and yelled out.

    "HEY! OVER HERE YOU NOSELESS SWINE!"

    I don''t know if it even heard me considering the distinct lack of ears on daemons.

    Alas! Fate finds ways to fuck up my life.

    The daemon''s head turned toward me and so did its arrow.

    And that''s when I made my move.

    I activated transcendence followed by ardor enhancement of my body and blood acceleration.

    In the current state of my body, I would not even last a minute. But a minute is all I need.

    I could feel my body screaming at me as the sudden surge of ardor became too much for it to handle.

    The stump of my right arm started to bleed again and blood vessels burst as my blood acceleration went over the limits.

    The snow around me scattered as I released what little aura I had and my feet pushed against the ground.

    The bones of my legs broke under the force but in a flash, I was right in front of the daemon, staring right at its arrow aimed at my handsome face.

    Without any hesitation, it released the bowstring and the black arrow came right at my left eye.

    Fortunately, I had transcendence.

    My perception was slowed enough for me to react.

    I moved to the left and went to deflect the arrow with my left dagger. The impact with the arrow shattered my wrist in an instant but I gritted my teeth and tried to withstand the pain.

    It was quite easier than I thought.

    When your entire body is in agonizing pain, a wrist fracture is not too bad.

    Sparks flew as the blade brushed against the shaft of the arrow. With the strength from ardor enhancement, I pushed at the arrow and barely deflected it away from me.

    But the momentum of the arrow spun me around and tore my muscles. I screamed out in pain and almost fell but I wasn''t done.

    I coated the dagger with ardor and my blood, willing it to swirl around the white blade, empowering it and making it deadly.

    I then pushed my body beyond its limits as I further increased blood acceleration and streamed ardor into my left arm. The pain became so intense that I stopped feeling it.

    With a defiant yell, I aimed at the heart of the daemonic bastard and threw the dagger with all my might.

    The shockwave blew out my eardrums and the bones of my left arm completely broke. There was a sharp whistle followed by a crunch.

    With my blurred vision, I saw the daemon standing still, my dagger hilt deep into its chest.

    Right at the heart.

    Take that, you bloody daemon.

    A smile crept up my face as the huge daemon fell backward like a statue. It immediately faded when the daemon started convulsing uncontrollably.

    Oh yeah. Wraiths.

    Shit.

    I collapsed to the ground, unable to move a single toe.

    Burnt alive?

    Definitely not a good way to go.

    Suddenly I felt something clamp around my collar. My blurry vision showed me the blue and dented metallic face of Tony, the mechanima of the captain.

    "What the?", I blurted out right before the mechanical beast flung me like a ragdoll into the sky.

    There was an explosion of darkness and the wailing crimson smoke came right at me but I was out of range. Wailing in despair it soon dissipated.

    I then slammed into a mound of snow and everything became dark.

    Ow.

    *******

    My eyes snapped open and I gasped for air.

    "Wow. You managed to stay alive."

    A familiar calm voice spoke beside me.

    I slowly turned my head and saw Eravon sitting cross-legged on the ground beside me.

    He smiled and his blue eyes sparkled, "We meet again Mordred. Looks like this time you lost an arm."

    He held out his hand and a fancy teacup materialized on his palm.

    "Tea?"

 26 Oh Incarni!

    "I survived?"

    I sat up groggily and accepted the tea from Eravon. It tasted exquisite and refreshed my mind.

    I found myself in my old body, now dressed in a plain white tunic and pants.

    "Well. You did destroy your body for the second time in a week but you''ll live.", Eravon said and helped me up after I put down the cup.

    "Find yourself in a familiar place?", he asked.

    I looked around and gasped. I immediately recognized where we were.

    A grand hall made of high-quality stone with beautiful gilded arches and carvings, stained glass windows with gilded frames that bathed the interior in a myriad of colors.

    Huge pillars decorated with golden vines and birds, a massive domed ceiling of translucent stone and gold that allowed the light of the right intensity to illuminate the grandeur of the place, and massive ornate chandeliers of gold and silver that gave off the same light as the day when the darkness of night prevailed.

    An architectural marvel that was the envy of all the kingdoms in the world and a grand display of the power, prestige, and wealth of the High King.

    Oh, how I frequented this place as a knight and king.

    "The Great Hall of Camelot Castle.", I said in awe.

    Eravon nodded, "Quite nostalgic isn''t it?"

    "Indeed.", I agreed and noticed something that was out of place in this grand hall.

    A round tea table laden with a pot and cups along with a platter of sandwiches, chips, cakes, and other snacks.

    "Huh. You set a table in the middle of the Great Hall?", I asked.

    "I figured you might be mentally tired, so I set up some refreshments with more tea.", Eravon chirped and led me to the table.

    I frowned, "But we''re in a dream."

    Eravon nodded, "Technically you are in a separate realm that is based on your memories that is kind of like a dream."

    I asked him, "Are you saying I am in a different place?"

    "Your mind is. Your unconscious body is currently being taken to Althea by the Scavengers. The healers are already starting to work their mojo on you.", he explained.

    I was surprised, "They started healing me? Does that mean...?"

    "Yep. You blacked out a few minutes before the remaining daemons returned to the Tear."

    Eravon said and we sat down at the table. He poured me a cup of tea and offered me a sandwich.

    When I took a bite from the sandwich, I could feel my mental fatigue slowly disappearing. So this is what Eravon meant by refreshments.

    "You managed to kill a D-ranked daemon on your own. Very impressive."

    I smiled, and a sense of accomplishment welled in my chest.

    I shook my head and dampened that feeling, "But I destroyed my body in the process."

    "Well that was to be expected.", Eravon took a bite of his sandwich and leaned back, "You are a beginner E rank after all."

    I blinked at him, very confused.

    Wait. What?

    "Beginner E rank?", I almost choked on my sandwich.

    Eravon nodded, "Congratulations on evolving from beginner F rank. That was a massive jump."

    "When did that happen?", I asked, still in shock.

    "About the time your body awakened Haema.", his eyes widened when he noticed my expression, "Oh my. Don''t tell me. Were you underestimating your abilities?"

    The look on my face answered for me.

    Eravon was suddenly fascinated by the tomato in his sandwich as he held back his laughter. Eventually, a wheeze escaped his mouth and he laughed lightly.

    He quickly covered it with a cough, "My apologies."

    He gave me a sympathetic smile, "Well. We all have our self-deprecating moments."

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    Oh, I wish the dome would fall on top of me!

    "Anyway!", Eravon''s cheerful voice broke me out of my embarrassment.

    "Is there anything you would like to know?", he asked as he took a sip from his cup.

    I perked up, "Really?"

    He nodded, "Why not?"

    This is awesome. Perhaps I can learn codes from him. This person taught Merlin and is the greatest warlock in this whole universe.

    The only question is. Will he teach me?

    "Can you make me stronger?", I asked.

    Eravon raised his eyebrows, "How? Only your mind is present here."

    "Can you provide me with some Haema codes and mental techniques to improve my ardor control and abilities as a Linker?", I requested.

    "Hm.", Eravon thought about my request, "That''s not a bad idea."

    "But I cannot do it now.", he shook his head.

    My hope started to deflate, "Why?"

    "Two reasons.", Eravon held up two fingers.

    "The first one is that it will take some time for me to find Haema codes that are suitable for the current you."

    Okay. That is understandable.

    "The second reason.", he pointed behind me. I turned around and noticed that a corner of the Grand Hall was beginning to disintegrate.

    "This world is starting to collapse. We will not have time.", He shook his head, "You are quite bad at staying unconscious."

    I frowned, "How is that a bad thing?"

    "I told you before. We can only meet when you become unconscious during the battle with the daemons.", Eravon reminded me.

    Oh yeah. He did mention that the last time.

    I frowned, "What is up with that dumb condition?"

    Eravon winced, "It''s a restriction, after all, I am separating a mind from the body while being in another universe."

    I blinked, "Wait. You are not in this universe?"

    He winked at me, "I told you. I''m a traveling warlock."

    Right. He said that as well. Eravon smiled, "I can provide information with the time we have."

    Information. That is crucial.

    So I asked him about something that had been bugging me ever since I received the memories of this world.

    "The Incarni. Who are they?"

    Eravon tilted his head with amusement, "Don''t you already have the information in your brain?"

    "I know they are the gods of this world and are associated with the strands but that''s all. The Mordred of this world didn''t look too much about them.", was my reply.

    "I see.", Eravon nodded. He drank some more tea and started speaking.

    "Yes. They are gods in this universe."

    His blue eyes sparkled and his lip curled into a smile.

    "Technically, an Incarnus is the physical manifestation of a strand or sub-strand. For example."

    He snapped his fingers and multiple orbs of white light surrounded us. He twirled his finger and the orbs swirled and aggregated together to form a female humanoid form.

    "The Incarnus of Lux, the goddess of light is the physical manifestation, or avatar, or incarnation of the the Lux strand with a consciousness."

    The humanoid made of light waved its hand at me as Eravon explained. He snapped his finger and the figure scattered into particles of light.

    "They are incredibly powerful.", he continued, "They are the apex of ardor beings, in the divine realm of Rank X."

    "Like the Crowns?", I asked.

    Eravon chuckled, "The Incarni and the Crowns are X-ranked beings but the former is more powerful than the latter."

    "Well, except for the High King. The Arthur of this world is the only one on par with the Incarni.", he shrugged.

    Whoa. I didn''t know my father was this strong. On par with gods? That is bloody impressive.

    Would be nice if his behaviour toward his son was better.

    Eravon looked at my awed face and smiled. He continued.

    "There are two types of Incarni. The major Incarni that are associated with the ten strands like Ignis, Lux, and Chronos, and minor Incarni that are associated with sub-strands like ice, plant, and so on."

    "Another thing about the Incarni is that they are immortal."

    I blinked, "Immortal? Like you?"

    He scoffed, "Well. Not exactly like me. They can be killed."

    I frowned, "Really? That doesn''t seem quite right."

    Eravon rolled his eyes, "Don''t get any ideas. Killing an Incarnus requires massive amounts of power. A power which can only be generated by an Incarnus."

    My eyes widened in realization, "Oh. So an Incarnus can only be killed by another Incarnus. That does not sound good."

    Eravon nodded, "Yep. Things tend to get messy between Incarni, such that some are killed."

    "What happens when an Incarnus is killed?"

    "They are reborn soon after their death.", the warlock replied, "But the newly reborn Incarnus will not have memories of their previous incarnation."

    Eravon continued, "Among the current Incarni, the ones we know are the third or fourth generation. All except for one."

    "Who is the exception?", I asked, curious at how an Incarnus stayed alive for so long.

    Eravon grabbed another sandwich, "The Incarnus of Lux. She is the only one remaining of the first generation and is the oldest Incarnus."

    I whistled, "Now that''s a determined lady."

    Eravon chuckled as he chewed on the sandwich.

    "Indeed Mordred."

    "Due to their overwhelming power and other divine stuff, the Incarni are seen as gods and are revered by people."

    I raised my eyebrows, "You mean people worship them?"

    Eravon shook his head, "The Incarni made it clear that they are not to be worshipped. They are more like the representative or leader of each strand and sub-strand."

    "But people need someone to look up to. So different factions are formed around the Incarni. The largest being the Order Of Lux."

    "I know them.", information about the Order from the books popped up in my head, "They are a major superpower based in Edith."

    Eravon chuckled, "It''s funny how the most well-known faction in Asteris is formed around the Incarnus who is pretty much unknown."

    "What do you mean by that?", I cocked my head.

    "While everyone knows about the current Incarni, there is little information about the Lux Incarnus.", he replied.

    "Even though she is the oldest Incarnus?"

    Eravon nodded, "The only thing we know is that the Incarnus is female. Almost every single source of information about her is lost."

    He looked wistfully at the dome above us, "It is as if she vanished into thin air. Her followers are still waiting for her return."

    "If you ever see her, say hi to me.", he requested with a smile.

    I scoffed, "You''re speaking like I will bump into her in the dark."

    Eravon shrugged, "Won''t hurt to try."

    Suddenly the grand hall began to disintegrate at a faster rate around us.

    "I''m afraid our time is coming to an end.", Eravon said as he observed the stained glass windows turning into colorful particles.

    "Meet you after the next battle. Just don''t die.", he said with a sweet smile as if sure that I would black out in the future.

    I groaned, "This is going to be painful."

    And just like that everything disintegrated around us and I fell into the endless white void with Eravon waving at me from the top with a smile.

    "Oh Incarni! I''m starting to hate this routine!"

 27 You Killed Who?

    I slowly opened my eyes and found myself in a familiar place.

    "Hello, Althea. We meet again."

    I found myself lying on a comfortable bed and hooked to monitoring devices. The first thing I did was glance at my right arm.

    I sighed in relief.

    My chopped-off forearm has been reattached to my body. I slowly clenched and unclenched my fist. There is a tingling sensation but apart from that, it is fully functional.

    There is a tingling all over my body, the remnants of the horrible pain that assaulted my body on the battlefield.

    My torso is covered in bandages and my remaining limbs are heavily bandaged but they are not in a cast as the healers had mended my bones.

    I sat up in bed and winced as the wound caused by the serrated blade stung like crazy.

    "Whoa. Take it easy.", a familiar voice from the battlefield said beside me.

    Each bed is surrounded by curtains for privacy. I moved back the curtains on my left and my eyes widened as I recognized the patient on the bed beside me.

    "Captain?"

    The captain of the newbie squad gave me a warm smile, "Greetings your Highness. quite the coincidence, isn''t it?"

    I nodded and looked at her condition. She looked better than me with only her upper torso bandaged and no other injuries.

    "Are you okay?", I inquired, glancing at her shoulder. I remember how she was pinned to the dracium panel by the daemon arrow.

    She shrugged, "I''ve had worse injuries. What about you? How does your first body reattachment feel?"

    "I feel tingly.", I replied.

    "That usually happens. Don''t worry. You''ll get used to it."

    After that, there was an awkward silence.

    "Um. Thank you.", I blurted out.

    She gave a curious smile, "What for?"

    "You know, for helping me out."

    The captain scoffed, "No need for that. I had no intention of helping you."

    I blinked and stared at her, "What?"

    She nodded, "The commander did tell us captains about you but he never told us to look after you."

    "You were incredibly weak and was expected to die very soon.", she didn''t mince her words.

    I winced, "Ouch."

    "Unfortunately, it''s the truth.", she said with a pitiful gaze on me.

    I cast my eyes onto my bandaged hands, "What made you change your mind?"

    "Your desperation for survival.", the answer made me look at her and see understanding in her amber eyes.

    "I saw how you stood up against the daemons. You didn''t flinch when those smoky bastards slaughtered those around you and in the ensuing chaos you even realized that sticking with me was your best chance for survival."

    "I saw the drive in your eyes. The drive to survive no matter what."

    She shrugged, "I don''t know. Perhaps that''s what compelled me to help you out. You reminded me of my first time as a Deathwalker."

    "I don''t know how I survived back then. It was all luck. You were weaker than me when I first started and yet you survived not by luck but by your resolve.", she chuckled and looked at me.

    This time, her gaze was filled with curiosity.

    "You are different from the other newbies. Your mind never broke from the horrors of the Tear and the battlefield and your drive for survival is so intense that it is almost frightening."

    "I have the weird urge to see how far you will go. Perhaps that''s why I helped you."

    I was speechless. I did not expect to hear those words out of her mouth. For a moment I thought if she was talking about someone else.

    Did I look that desperate?

    I shook my head. Anyway, I am grateful for her help.

    "Even so. You have my gratitude. I would be on a casket to the Tomb if you hadn''t reached out for my aid."

    I bowed my head, which surprised her, "Thank you. Captain um..."

    I smiled sheepishly, "I''m sorry. I didn''t ask your name."

    She gave a small laugh at my expression. It sounded refreshing.

    "Oh my. You are cute.", she covered her mouth and after laughing she smiled at me.

    "It''s Sparks."

    I frowned, "Sparks? That''s your name?"

    She nodded, "That''s what everyone calls me."

    I tilted my head, "What about your actual name?"

    She gave me a sad smile, "I discarded it."

    "You can discard names now?", I asked incredulously.

    "I don''t deserve to be called by my real name after the things I have done.", she replied in a melancholic tone.

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    "You mean killing the Deathwalkers who turned into wraiths? I''m sorry but we have no choice. It''s either them or us.", I said, still confused.

    Sparks shook her head, "It''s not that. Felix didn''t tell you?"

    Okay. Now I''m really confused, "Felix didn''t tell me what?"

    "That half of the Deathwalkers in the Shield are criminals."

    Oh. I gulped. He didn''t tell me that.

    "And you are?"

    Sparks nodded, "A criminal and a vile one at that."

    I unconsciously scooted a bit away from her. I was not bothered by that statement but this body unconsciously reacted in the presence of an actual criminal.

    My. That feels hypocritical considering that I was a villain worse than a criminal.

    "Sorry about that.", I mumbled.

    She smiled, "It''s fine. I''m used to it."

    That made me feel even worse. I looked at her awkwardly and asked the sensitive question, "So. What did you do?"

    Her smile faded and her eyes had a sad and haunted look in them. She looked away.

    "Yeah. You should know about my sin. You are a High Prince after all."

    She turned to me and looked straight into my eyes, "Your Highness. I killed my family."

    The sounds of the infirmary faded into the background. The groans of patients, the clattering of instruments, and the footsteps of healers, patients, and visitors walking.

    All of them faded away as her words filled my head.

    "Oh."

    "Usually people would jump away from me with repulsion or even be morbidly interested. You are quite the interesting one.", she said, amused by my reaction.

    "I find it hard to believe that you would kill your family. Were you perhaps framed or were you controlled?", I replied.

    Captain Sparks shook her head, "No. Your Highness. It was all me."

    It took me a moment to digest that. I looked into her now sad and empty eyes.

    "Why?"

    I know what all of you are thinking. How am I, who tried to kill my father in my past life disturbed by this?

    Yeah. I tried to kill my father. He was a douchebag but killing my family? That scared me.

    I admit. I am a weird guy.

    Sparks exhaled before speaking as if psyching herself to talk about something unpleasant. Her past.

    "It was jealousy."

    "Jealousy?"

    She nodded and lowered her head, "I was the eldest of my family but I was a huge disappointment to my parents."

    She pressed her lips together, "I was quite average and had little to no talent. A failure in the eyes of my talented parents. My father was a successful music artist while my mother was a knight."

    "I did not possess the artistic and musical prowess of my father or the strength and skills of my mother. The only thing I was good at was baking cookies."

    She chuckled, "And even those were burnt at times."

    "And then there was my sister."

    Oh boy. Cue the superior and highly talented sister.

    "She was beautiful and very talented. A genius. But she was also the kindest person I had ever seen.", she said with the touch of a smile.

    "She would be your age if she were alive.". Sparks looked at me with a sad smile, as if imagining her sister sitting in my place.

    A thought occurred to me. Did she help me because I reminded her of her sister?

    Captain Sparks continued, "So of course she was loved by all. My parents adored and pampered her. She was the perfect child while I was a great failure and was soon forgotten."

    "But while my parents shunned me, my sister loved me, a fact that I realized after her death.", her head was down as she talked.

    "She tried reaching out to me but I rejected her every time. Now I realize how childish that was.", she scoffed.

    "I had no friends, my parents were disappointed and hated me, people looked down on me and even bullied me."

    She gave me a sarcastic smile, "My life was fantastic and the worst was yet to come."

    "One day my parents decided to disown me and kick me out of the family while transferring everything I had to my sister. That was the first time I ever saw her enraged as she vehemently opposed the decision."

    "But the minds of my parents were set and I was to get out of the house by the next morning. My sister tried to console me and was even ready to help me in any way but I was blinded by shock, jealousy, and hatred so it all fell on deaf ears."

    The air suddenly became heavy and chilly as she narrated the next part of her past.

    "That night. While everyone slept peacefully in their beds, awaiting for another great day. I sneaked out of my room and cloaked in darkness went to my mother''s armory."

    "I got my hands on an axe and proceeded to my parent''s room. It was quite bloody as it was quite difficult to break the ardor defenses of a warlock but I was able to do it thanks to some ardor training I did in secret."

    Her lips curled into a disturbing smile, "The room was soundproofed so no one heard the screams as I chopped their lives one swing at a time."

    I shivered and I scooted a little away from her.

    This time it was me.

    Sparks continued, "After my parents, I went to the two servants we had. They were much easier to deal with. They weren''t warlocks."

    She exhaled, "And finally, I went to my sister. I had saved her for last. My hatred and bloodlust peaked when I saw her peaceful sleeping face."

    Sparks gripped the sheets and trembled as she struggled to continue, "As I stood over her, my axe ready for her throat, she slowly opened her eyes to see my bloody self looking at her with hate-filled eyes."

    "She didn''t scream or even look scared at all. She looked relieved to see me. As I brought the axe to her neck she told me two words before the blade severed her neck."

    "I''m sorry."

    There was silence and the sounds of the infirmary returned.

    Well. That went dark.

    Oh, wait. She wasn''t done.

    A single tear fell down her face, "I noticed that she was the easiest to kill, even though she was a warlock stronger than my parents. She would''ve been alerted about my killing spree with her heightened senses."

    "She could''ve defended herself but she didn''t do anything. It was as if she wanted me to kill her."

    "After killing her I chanced upon her journal. Reading it I realized that she was quite unhappy with her life and her ardent wish was to help me, her elder sister whom she loved more than her parents."

    Sparks clenched her fists so hard that they started bleeding, "Letting me kill her without a struggle was her way of helping me to be free of my family and it broke me."

    "The next day I turned myself in and was put on trial. The High King himself presided over the case."

    "I was given two choices. Either spend the rest of my life in prison or battle the daemons in Blood Valley for 25 years."

    "Many prisoners would choose life imprisonment over the Shield when they are told of what they will be facing and the horrors but I chose the latter."

    I raised my eyebrows, "And you chose the Shield."

    She nodded, "Suffering greatly at the hands of daemons by fighting them seems to be the just punishment for the things I did."

    "I still keep my sister''s journal with me, a reminder of the sisterly love that I killed in cold blood.:

    She looked at me with empty eyes and a broken smile.

    "And that, Your Highness was how I became a Deathwalker."

    There was great silence between us as I digested the things she just told me. I should probably say something.

    "Well. You had crappy parents."

    A small smile broke her melancholy when she heard my lame answer.

    "Yeah. They were really crappy."

 28 A Treadmill Almost Kills Me

    Captain Sparks was discharged later that day.

    "I had a good time talking to you, Your Highness.", she said with a smile as she put on her jacket.

    "You are a good listener and didn''t distance yourself from me even when you heard my past."

    I smiled back, "Well, you are a good person, Captain Sparks."

    "But I-"

    "What you did is unforgivable.", I said.

    "But you realized your actions and had remorse. You didn''t run from the consequences and you chose the painful and bloody path to death rather than the peaceful way.", I spoke calmly.

    "You are a brave person and you''re not talentless. Your skills that I saw on the battlefield? Now that is some real talent.", I remarked.

    She stared at me in amazement, "I can''t believe I''m getting motivation from a thirteen-year-old."

    I know. I am a fantastic guy.

    I just shrugged at her response, "Sometimes wisdom can come from strange places."

    She laughed, "You can say that again."

    Her laughter was so sincere and pleasant that I almost forgot she was a murderer guilty of familicide.

    "Thanks, your Highness.", she wiped the tears from her eyes as she chuckled.

    "Will I see you again?", I asked.

    She shrugged, "I doubt it. The captains of the newbie unit change for every battle. By the time I''ll be in charge of the newbies, you''ll probably be out of the unit, either as a full-fledged Deathwalker or a dead body."

    She didn''t have to add that last part but hey, at least she''s honest.

    "Then I guess this is goodbye.", I held out my hand, "Thanks for saving me, Captain Sparks. It was great to meet you."

    "Likewise.", she shook my hand, "I am honored to have met, your Highness."

    With a smile, she turned around.

    "Oh yeah. A word of advice, Your Highness.", she glanced back with a cool expression.

    "Please be careful in the Shield. Not all the criminals here are chill like me."

    "Goodbye, Your Highness. I look forward to seeing where you will reach."

    With those words, Captain Sparks left the infirmary and I returned to enjoying the usual bleak sights of Althea.

    Ah. Nothing beats watching the sufferings of the wounded.

    I chuckled. I am still the same sadistic bastard of Camelot.

    I am glad to see that some things haven''t changed.

    *******

    "Just what are kids nowadays made of?"

    Dr. Haytham grumbled as he examined my body.

    "Don''t underestimate the durability of a determined kid, Doc.", Felix grinned as his eyes fell on the scar on my arm as my bandages fell off.

    "I thought one thirteen-year-old was enough trouble. Is that Kay trying to stress me to death?", Dr. Haytham narrowed his dark pink eyes as he examined my body for any other unhealed injuries.

    According to Felix, Dr. Casper Haytham is one of the best healers in the Kingdom and is the Chief Healer of Althea.

    His powerful healing skills and his revolutionary method of using ardor in surgery have saved the lives of thousands of Deathwalkers, nobles, and common people.

    He sees every patient in Althea and is so busy that he barely has time to sleep and runs on copious amounts of coffee.

    His sleep schedule was so bad that he mastered the art of taking short naps to make up for lost sleep. So he does not look like the sleep-deprived zombie doctor I expected to see.

    He''s popularly known as The Doc in Necropolis and is quite the handsome doctor in his late twenties with his tall athletic build and long teal hair tied in a ponytail.

    "Any problems with your arm?", he asked as he examined my reattached arm, his tanned complexion a huge contrast against my snow-white skin.

    I shook my head, "No doctor. I feel fine."

    He was the one who reattached my forearm and fixed my blood vessels that burst when I used blood acceleration way past the limit.

    After Captain Sparks left, I spent two more days in the ward resting and recovering after my second battle.

    During that time, Felix visited me whenever he was free. He brought my daggers that the Scavengers recovered on the battlefield to my relief.

    I was worried they might be lost since Moonsilver weapons are quite the temptation for a Deathwalker.

    "Don''t worry about having your weapons stolen. Minerva knows which weapons you are using so it is quite impossible for anyone to steal it unless they want to face the consequences."

    Felix told me when I voiced my concerns.

    Soon, All my bandages were removed, and the Doc did a final check-up before discharging me.

    I just gained new scars on my arm and abdomen.

    Doc finished examining my body and nodded in satisfaction, "You have recovered both physically and mentally."

    He looked at me, "Your mental fortitude is unyielding, Your Highness. I had seen grown men reduced to sniveling husks after they experienced a day with the bloody daemons."

    "Heck. You are faring better than the Fairy during her first battles."

    I looked at him in confusion, "The Fairy?"

    He nodded, "She is a Deathwalker of your age."

    Suddenly the blue-eyed girl I saw in my first battle entered my mind.

    "The Fairy of Tenebris.", Felix said and smiled, "I''ll tell you about her. But first, let''s get out of here."

    I agreed with him. The general ward of Althea is quite gloomy for a casual conversation with him.

    I and Felix looked at the Doc. He just shrugged, "His Highness is well enough to be discharged. Go on."

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    "Can I do training after getting discharged?", I asked.

    "As long as you don''t push your body too hard.", Dr. Haytham crossed his arms, "And please be careful when using your strand, especially blood acceleration. If you go over the limit of your body, the damage can even be fatal."

    I stared at him, "How did you -"

    He scoffed, "Please. You are looking at one of the greatest healers in the history of the world. I am well aware of your strand and its huge potential."

    "But blood acceleration?", he looked impressed, "You are one insane kid. That method is effective as long as you are aware of the risks and have an insane amount of ardor control."

    "So be careful. Your Highness.", he warned me, his pink eyes gazing into my soul.

    I gulped and nodded, "Understood, Doctor."

    "Good. Now scram. I have a Deathwalker who is still alive despite a daemon arrowhead lodged in his cerebral noodle."

    I didn''t want to know the details so after quickly dressing up, I followed Felix out of the ward.

    Soon we were out of Althea and walking over the phoenix design in Central Plaza.

    "Why didn''t you tell me?", I looked at Felix accusingly, breaking the silence between us.

    He frowned, "Tell you what?"

    "That about half of the Deathwalkers are criminals? Isn''t that crucial information?"

    "Oh yeah.", he gave me a sheepish smile, "Sorry about that. I forgot to tell you that."

    I stared at him in disbelief, "You forgot? How do you forget something that important? What if I accidentally bumped into the wrong person?"

    "Oh you''ll be fine.", he reassured with a casual wave, "The presence of Minerva and the commander keeps those guys in check. One wrong move and you''ll be a daemon''s straw dummy."

    "And what about you? Are you one as well?", I asked. We stopped under the huge tree and the shadows of the leaves hid Felix''s expression.

    He chuckled, "Nah. I don''t have what it takes to be a criminal. I''m more of an exile looking forward to the day I''ll be meeting my fiancee."

    "An exile?"

    "You want to hear another backstory?", he asked.

    "Well, I am curious."

    Felix thought about what to say. A mischievous smile appeared on his face.

    "How about this? I''ll tell you my past after you finish your seventh battle."

    After considering his proposal, I nodded, "Very well. It''s a deal."

    He grinned, "Sweet. Now, you were curious about the Fairy of Tenebris?"

    Ah yes. I almost forgot.

    "Who is she?", asked, genuinely curious about this mysterious person.

    "She''s the vice-captain of the unit I am in. Probably the youngest vice-captain in the Shield currently. She''s your age."

    "Whoa.", I then blinked, "Wait. You''re in a unit?"

    Felix nodded, "Yeah. Unit 21. After leaving the newbie unit, you can either join another unit or go solo."

    "There are some benefits to being in a unit. Your unit can book a slot for the battle with Minerva. It''s much better than being randomly teleported to the battlefield."

    "But your unit must fight the daemons at least once a week otherwise it''s the random selection. Isn''t it better to know when you will be deployed so that you can prepare in advance?"

    "You will also have reliable teammates who will watch your back and there are certain discounts for equipment when you are part of a unit."

    "Well, except in Lorvar''s.", his face turned sour, "Don''t know if Dorothy hates me but her shop is the only place that doesn''t give a discount."

    "Maybe it''s because you are always using discount coupons?", I suggested in an innocent voice.

    He looked scandalized, "No way! Master Lorvar gives them to me every time we go for a drink."

    "Exactly.", I gave him a meaningful look.

    He sighed, "Anyway. The Fairy of Tenebris is the vice-captain of our unit. It''s crazy how it has only been a year since she stepped into the Shield."

    "Whoa. Seriously?.", I stared at him in disbelief.

    He nodded, "Indeed. I believe that kid is a beginner A rank."

    The world is a funny place. A girl of my age is an A ranker while I am a weak-ass E ranker.

    Bruh.

    "The Fairy of Tenebris. That''s her nickname?"'', I asked.

    Felix nodded again, "Yep. She''s a powerful Linker with the Tenebris strand. Her skills and her fairy-like beauty earned her that name."

    He looked at me, "Are you familiar with Duke Adrian Karsus?"

    I frowned and sifted through Mordred''s memories. There was a mention of that name in one of the newspapers he read.

    "The ruthless Axial Duke who killed his siblings for power?", I wondered aloud.

    "Exactly.", Felix confirmed my answer, "The Fairy of Tenebris is his illegitimate daughter, Iris Karsus."

    Iris Karsus. What a good name.

    But when he mentioned an illegitimate daughter, it struck a chord in me.

    Why?

    Perhaps it was because I was an illegitimate child as well in my past life.

    "You mean, she was sent to the Shield because she was the bastard child of the Duke?", I voiced my thoughts.

    "That''s part of the reason. Duke Karsus is not exactly father of the year but no. He sent her here for something else.", Felix replied.

    "Then what is it?"

    "Why don''t you ask her yourself?"

    "No way. You will introduce me to her?", I was surprised. Felix just shrugged.

    "Why not? Both of you are the same age. I think it''s a good idea."

    That doesn''t sound like a good idea.

    "Let''s leave that for later.", I crossed my arms and looked at him, "I have to get stronger. I doubt the Fairy would even look at me if I am this weak."

    Felix tapped his chin, "Hm. That''s true."

    "Alright then! Let''s get to the training center!", he grabbed my arm and dragged me away.

    *******

    According to Felix...

    Floors three to six in Necropolis are dedicated to improving the strength and skills of Deathwalkers.

    The third floor consists of an arena where Deathwalkers can battle out with each other in duels, the fourth floor consists of sparring courts and the fifth floor contains simulation rooms so that Deathwalkers can gain battle experience with simulated battles in a virtual environment.

    We are currently on the sixth floor which is a gym that takes up the entire floor. It is more of a fitness city full of exercise equipment.

    There is even a small shop that provides protein shakes, refreshments, and other gym supplies.

    Felix was doing some pull-ups nearby while I was standing in front of one of the hundreds of treadmills in the gym, staring at it in wonder.

    "Amazing.", I whispered, inspecting the machine that can enable one to run in one spot and in any inclination.

    I gingerly stepped onto the belt and looked at the control panel. I searched Mordred''s memories but unfortunately, there is not a single thing about how to operate a treadmill.

    I took a deep breath. I can do this. Felix told me to improve my stamina first.

    Okay. I can do this.

    So this red button is the power switch?

    I pressed it and the treadmill came alive. Soon I was walking with the belt moving beneath my feet.

    This is amazing! A grin appeared on my face as I slowly increased the speed and began to jog.

    After ten minutes of jogging, I glanced at the control panel.

    Huh. What is this? Awakened mode? Might as well try it.

    "This is fun.", I said as I pressed the button.

    Famous last words.

    The next thing I remember, I was upside down against the opposite wall surrounded by a small crowd of Deathwalkers.

    Among them, I noticed Felix approaching me.

    "Dude! What happened?", he straightened me up.

    "The treadmill almost killed me.", I said in a daze.

    "The treadmill?", Felix was confused. He turned back and realization dawned on his face.

    "Mordred. Did you activate Awakened Mode?"

    "Yeah?", I said. The Deathwalkers around us started snickering.

    Felix sighed, "Mordred. You only activate Awakened mode when you enhance your body with ardor and go superhuman. Otherwise, you will be launched like a human slingshot."

    The Deathwalkers around us started to walk away, snickering with the odd laughing.

    "I guess that is enough of the gym for today.", he helped me get up.

    Noticing my sullen appearance, he smiled.

    "How about we go for a spar? It will help us to see where you currently are in the power department."

    I looked at his smile which brightened up the gloom in me and washed away my shame. I nodded.

    "Alright. Let''s do that."

 29 Felix Uses Me For Target Practice

    "Ready, Mordred?"

    Felix asked as he nocked a practice arrow in his bow.

    I nodded and crossed my daggers in front of me.

    We are currently on the fourth floor of Necropolis where Felix had booked a sparring court for us after a treadmill tried to kill me in the gym.

    The fourth floor is divided into several huge rooms used as sparring courts. The special runes engraved into the walls can morph the room into any battlefield or terrain.

    Currently, there is no specific setting so we''re in a huge empty room with bright overhead light panels and pearly white walls.

    I took a deep breath and began to circulate ardor in my body, enhancing it. I then activated Haema and began to accelerate my blood.

    "Let''s do this."

    No sooner had the words escaped my lips when my instincts honed by years on the battlefield as a knight screamed one word at me.

    "DUCK!"

    My body immediately responded to my instincts and I ducked low just as a powerful wind grazed my back.

    I quickly turned around and my eyes widened at the three arrows embedded deep into the wall behind me.

    "What the fu-"

    My instincts screamed again and I jumped to the left as another volley of arrows rocketed past me.

    I looked at my sparring partner, "What the hell, Felix? You trying to kill me before the daemons?"

    He smiled mischievously, "Wouldn''t be fun without a challenge. Try to close the distance."

    His green eyes glowed as he nocked three arrows and pulled back the string. The air shifted around him as he slowly released his aura.

    I gritted my teeth. Felix is a B-rank warlock, way stronger than the daemons I faced. Currently, he is the strongest opponent I am facing.

    A beginner E rank facing a possible intermediate B rank. The power gap is just crazy.

    Plus, Felix never told me his strand. It appears that he wants me to figure it out myself.

    This is going to be tricky.

    Channeling ardor into my legs and initiating my special breathing technique, I broke into a dash toward Felix just as he released the bowstring.

    One second has passed.

    I activated transcendence and the arrows became visible as blurs. I quickly shifted to the right, narrowly missing one of them.

    Three seconds have passed. I deactivated transcendence and immediately my instincts screamed at me.

    I abruptly stopped just as five arrows suddenly sprouted from the floor. I looked ahead and couldn''t believe my eyes.

    Felix, who was just in front of me had vanished.

    "What in the actual fu-"

    I twisted around just in time to see him launching another volley of arrows. I activated transcendence and scrambled around to avoid the arrows.

    A few of them grazed me and they stung like crazy.

    Even in my enhanced perception, the arrows were a blur. They were faster than the arrows launched by the daemons.

    I stared into the calm eyes of Felix.

    Just what is his strand? His movements and attacks are quick. It looks like there isn''t any strand involved.

    But I know in my gut that is not the case.

    I am going to need more information. Unfortunately, that means being Felix''s moving archery target.

    I gritted my teeth and dashed forward, making irregular changes in direction to confuse his aim.

    Felix was unfazed as he knocked five arrows and unleashed them upon me. I braced myself to dodge them but strangely, they passed by me.

    I frowned. That''s odd. Dodging them was quite easy.

    I activated transcendence and yelped as five new arrows appeared before me. I crossed my daggers to block them but the force of the impact launched me into the air and I landed hard on my butt.

    Ouch! My poor arse!

    I got up and rubbed my throbbing bottom.

    "You done?", Felix asked with an amused smile.

    "No way.", I frowned and readied my stance.

    "Round two."

    This time I did something different. I ran to the side while keeping my eyes on Felix.

    I need to figure out his strand.

    Still keeping his amused smile, Felix fired arrows at me. This time I activated transcendence and continued to maintain it.

    I stopped blood acceleration and barely dodged the ardor-enhanced arrows. I carefully observed his actions, trying to see a hint of his strand.

    But I got nothing.

    "Think man. Think!", I muttered and jumped away just as another volley descended from above.

    How did he even do that?

    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Just what is his strand?

    There are many candidates.

    The first and the most obvious one is Aeris. I noticed the air shift around Felix at the beginning of the spar. That led me to think that his strand is Aeris. It could also explain his suddenly appearing behind me.

    But a warlock''s aura is capable of causing certain changes around them and I didn''t see the characteristic light cyan glow of the strand.

    Okay. So not Aeris.

    Fulgur? He could use lightning to speed up the arrows and boost his speed.

    An arrow grazed my arm.

    Blithering idiot! If he used Fulgur, it would be obvious. He will be enveloped by lightning. That will be the case with Ignis, Aqua, and Terra.

    Could it be Lux? Light is extremely quick and the blurring arrows in my transcendence state could be caused by it.

    Wait. Arrows?

    A small idea sprouted in my head. Felix is using a lot of arrows, where is he getting them?

    Unless he has an infinite supply of practice arrows that are useless in actual battle, he must be getting some refill.

    I dashed toward him and he let loose another volley of arrows at me. I tried to dodge but a few of them grazed me and blood flowed from the cuts.

    One even hit me in the thigh. Fortunately, it wasn''t pointed so it didn''t pierce the flesh but it still hurt like crazy.

    I activated Haema and enveloped one of my daggers with my blood. Before Felix could launch another arrow, I threw my blood-soaked dagger at him.

    His smile flickered and he deftly parried the dagger with his bow. I willed my blood to control the dagger. It quickly turned around and flew at him again.

    As Felix engaged in parrying with my dagger, I quickly turned around to look behind me.

    The blank wall of the sparring court stared back at me. A small smile appeared on my lips.

    "Just as I thought."

    Instead of arrows sprouting out of it, the wall is blank and there are no traces of the arrows fired by Felix anywhere in the sparring court.

    So where did the arrows go?

    Simple. Felix retrieved them during the spar and two strands can enable him to do that.

    Chronos and Locus.

    With Locus, he can create a separate storage space for lots of arrows or warp the space around the used arrows to teleport them into his quiver.

    He could also teleport the arrows I dodged and place them before me. That also explains his quick attacks.

    But I should''ve noticed him using it. According to scientists, Locus has a distinct silver hue while Chronos has a golden hue.

    Another arrow came at me. In my transcendent state, I dodged it, keeping my eyes on it.

    Hold up.

    I thought back.

    In the battle, I constantly keep an eye on Felix except when he fires an arrow at me. My attention will go to the arrow I''m trying to avoid.

    That would be his window. Manipulating space in such a small amount of time is hard.

    But he is a B ranker, so it is possible for him.

    Then there is Chronos. It is a powerful strand capable of manipulating the flow of time but it requires extremely high ardor control and is limited by the power of the warlock.

    A Chronos user can manipulate the time in a specific area around them, similar to controlling the ardor of an area around them.

    However, due to the high demand for Chronos, its area of influence is way smaller than the warlock''s area of ardor control.

    Plus it is the hardest strand to master and is quite rare.

    But Felix is a special case. Even though he is a B ranker, his control of ardor is phenomenal, and is capable of cleverly hiding his strand.

    His area of influence could stretch over the entire sparring court. In this domain, he could stop time and retrieve the arrows or even launch them in my face while I would be none the wiser.

    But as I mentioned before, manipulating time requires immense ardor control and is physically taxing.

    The guy I am currently facing is not even breaking a sweat.

    What the heck man?

    But the thing I can infer from this is that he is reusing the arrows. Since I am weak, I am unable to sense his minute ardor controls.

    So time to deplete his supply.

    I willed my blood-soaked dagger to return to me. I expanded the blood and covered my second dagger with it.

    Now I have two daggers floating on both sides of my person, ready for defense and offense.

    I channeled ardor into my legs and dashed forward.

    Immediately, Felix unleashed his arrows at me.

    This time I kept my gaze on him and let my strand do the rest.

    One minute left for my transcendent state. One minute until I collapse on the floor.

    So I went crazy with my strand.

    The daggers shredded arrows along with a thin blood tentacle I was able to manifest.

    Felix was surprised at this but he quickly recovered and jumped back to increase the distance between us.

    He quickly aimed and fired arrows upon arrows at me. I damaged most of them with my strand. My eyes were still fixed on him.

    He won''t be able to use his strand without revealing it to me.

    His eyes widened as I approached him but he didn''t panic. He calmly knocked a single arrow and fired it at me.

    A shockwave rippled when he fired it and in less than a second, an arrowhead filled my vision.

    I gritted my teeth and used my dagger to deflect. But just as the green edge was about to touch the arrow, the high-speed projectile vanished in front of my eyes.

    Huh?

    My instincts screamed at me. I quickly rolled forward just as the arrow flew from behind.

    But I expected him to do something like that. I quickly got to my feet and threw my dagger at the arrow.

    The white dagger sliced the arrow like a split banana.

    Damn. My aim is so good!

    Felix got distracted by my move and I took that opportunity.

    Ten seconds left.

    I leaped from my place with an ardor shockwave, grabbed my other dagger from the air, and swung it at his neck.

    Felix''s shocked face turned into an amused smile.

    "Wonderful, Mordred!", with those words he vanished right in front of my eyes with a pop.

    My time is up.

    I crashed into the padded floor and my blood splattered around me.

    "Ouch.", I muttered, feeling drained. I slowly turned my body to face the ceiling.

    I heard the sound of clapping coming near me.

    "That was impressive, Mordred!", Felix''s grinning face appeared in my vision, "Are you really an F rank? Perhaps we should have Minerva re-evaluate you."

    I gave him a tired smile, "Maybe I am capable of quick growth?"

    He laughed, "That''s possible."

    "Anyway.", he looked at me with curiosity, "It appears that you figured out my strand?"

    I nodded, "I guess."

    "Amazing. You figured it out in a matter of minutes! You''re a bloody genius man!"

    Has it only been minutes? Wow. My genius is quite frightening.

    "So? Which is it? My strand?", Felix asked with a mischievous smile.

    "It''s either Chronos or Locus.", I answered and looked at him, "Am I close?"

    He nodded, "Yep. You got it."

    Felix snapped his fingers and a hole opened in the air above me. It looked similar to the Tear but instead of swirling darkness, the space beyond the hole was reminiscent of a night sky filled with stars.

    Out of the hole fell some arrows that struck the ground around me.

    I chuckled, "Heh. Locus. I was right."

 30 Codes Are Trickier Than I Thought

    Three weeks have passed since I woke up in Asteris and became a Deathwalker of the Shield.

    And boy! Those three weeks were the worst!

    I completed my third and fourth battles and have grown stronger in just those three weeks.

    With the skills of my past life and my constant training, I was able to do better on the battlefield.

    Well, better at staying alive. I am still weak and killing daemons would mean destroying my body in the process.

    Not a fan of that.

    So I try to avoid confrontations with the shadowy creeps, using my enhanced speed to zig-zag between daemons and Deathwalkers.

    Sometimes I even use some unsuspecting newbie as my meat shield.

    Heh. Old habits die hard I guess.

    On the unlucky chance a daemon shows up in my face, I try to keep it at bay using my trusty strand and daggers until a more experienced Deathwalker takes care of it.

    That twenty-five percent chance of paralysis saved my life a lot of times on the battlefield.

    Master Lorvar is truly a master crafter.

    But I would lie if I said I was unscathed after each battle.

    In my third battle, I fractured all of my ribs, got my left leg sliced off, and an unnecessary hole was punched in my stomach.

    In my fourth battle, I cracked my noggin, lost an ear, shattered my pelvis, and was paralyzed from the waist down due to a severe spinal fracture.

    I heard the healers had a hard time taking out the bone splinters from my spinal cord.

    Oh, and I also lost a lot of blood from multiple deep cuts and my butt looked like swollen blueberries.

    If it hadn''t been for Haema and the divine skills of Dr. Haytham and his team of healers, I would be chilling with the other dead Deathwalkers in the massive Tomb.

    Yeah. It bloody sucked.

    But the good news is, my growth as a warlock is going at a rather quick pace.

    Along with constant workouts and a better diet, I am also slowly refining my already refined ardor control and gradually increasing my area of influence.

    Now it has tripled and I have become a master E rank.

    My growth was quite a surprise to Felix and Damien.

    Usually, an E-ranker would take at least a month to go from beginner to master with constant and hardcore training.

    And that is the least amount of time.

    I was able to progress in just two weeks.

    That rate of growth was insane.

    Fortunately, Eravon was there to explain things when I lost consciousness on the battlefield.

    Unlike what I previously thought, my soul has not fully assimilated into my body. Well, not all of it.

    You see. My soul contains the knowledge and experience I had accumulated in my past life.

    All that experience is slowly absorbed into my new body, accelerating my growth.

    According to Eravon, the physical abilities and combat skills of my past were on the level of an A rank.

    It will take time for my new body to absorb that strength from my soul. Until then, I must sculpt this new body into a vessel capable of holding my glorious strength.

    I will also have to improve my strand control as well

    It would take a long time for the full assimilation of power, about three years.

    How convenient.

    Fortunately, Eravon had provided me with some simple Haema codes.

    And I must say. They are quite fun.

    Using a code is a lot trickier than I previously thought.

    A code is a group of runes arranged in a specific sequence that directs a strand to implement a specific task.

    Sure, a warlock can control their strand with their minds and wills but that method is quite limited and wouldn''t work for specific tasks.

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    Let''s take the example of my Haema attribute.

    I can control it by myself and will the strand to do simple tasks like forming appendages on my back to attack and defend or controlling my daggers by soaking the handles in my blood.

    They require only one or two simple steps.

    But what if I want to make my blood explode like a grenade? That is a more complicated process.

    First, I must gather my blood at a particular point in space like my palm.

    Next, I have to separate the gathered blood into two. One part will form the center of the grenade and the other part will form a thin envelope.

    Next, I have to make the blood rotate inside the envelope at an extremely fast rate. The ardor in my area of influence is directed to the swirling blood and sucked inside, increasing the energy and further empowering Haema.

    As the ardor empowers my blood, it rotates faster and faster, resulting in more and more ardor getting sucked in.

    Soon I will have a powerful storm of ardor-enhanced blood that gets stronger and stronger with every rotation.

    The thin outer layer of blood is the only thing preventing this powerful swirling storm from going absolutely mental.

    The final step would be to aim my special blood ball choke full of destructive energy at my opponent and remove the outer layer.

    And the result? A magnificent explosion of blood that can cause devastating damage.

    As you can see. Creating this rather powerful explosive requires way more than two steps and a lot more control.

    The amount of blood, the strength of the outer layer, the rate of rotation, and many other factors are to be in the perfect ratio

    Any tiny mistake or miscalculation and my grenade will either become a dud or explode in my face.

    So yeah. I need precise calculations and control.

    And that will not be the only time I will be using a blood grenade. The human mind is quite an amazing thing but it is not infallible.

    Even if the mind is capable of replicating the conditions for the blood grenade, there will be the slightest variation.

    As I said, even the slightest variation can disrupt the formation of my blood grenade.

    So yeah. It is a tedious and delicate process.

    That''s where a code helps me.

    In a code, runes are connected by the ardor controlled by the warlock and are powered by their strand.

    So codes are strand-specific and will only work when powered by a certain strand.

    Since a code is connected to its respective strand in such a way, it is capable of manipulating the strand.

    Let''s get back to my blood explosive.

    The code {Haema: Blood Grenade} contains the information that is necessary to manipulate my strand to form my bloody explosive.

    The speed of rotation, the thickness of the outer membrane, and how much the blood should curve, all of this information is contained in the code.

    The code is activated by my Haema strand and ''instructs'' my strand to conform according to the information contained in it through the runes.

    All the warlock needs to do is memorize and understand the sequence of runes forming the code.

    I hope you all understood my enlightening class.

    Now that will be a thousand draigos.

    Due to my genius intellect, I was able to memorize the sequence for Blood Grenade, one of the codes Eravon gave me for Haema.

    And I am planning on its debut during my spar with Damien.

    Which is happening right now. And it''s going well.

    For Damien.

    Sparks flew as my white daggers clashed against his red longsword.

    We jumped back and charged at each other.

    My opponent''s eyes glowed and his sword ignited into red flames.

    Damien Fray uses Ignis and is a formidable B-ranked Spiker.

    As soon as we got close, he slashed diagonally downwards, flames trailing off the red blade. I planted my foot on the floor and shifted back.

    The flames of the sword passed in front of me.

    Immediately he leaned forward, flicked his wrist, and slashed upward, the roaring flames forming a bright red arc.

    I quickly twisted my body to the left and slashed upward with my left dagger.

    In the blink of an eye, he parried my attack. The force of which was enough to launch me some distance from him.

    My boots slid against the smooth tiles of the sparring court. Damien immediately closed the distance between us.

    His coffee-brown eyes glowed as his flames became stronger and he slashed horizontally at my chest.

    I quickly parried the attack and took a step back. Damien recovered in a flash and swiftly did a cross-slash followed by a diagonal upward slash.

    I barely dodged the first attack and parried the second.

    Damien sure is a formidable sword user. His attacks are swift and heavy and his Ignis strand just makes his attacks more powerful.

    His skills are quite amazing.

    My lips curled into a smile.

    But he doesn''t hold a candle to my skills.

    For this spar, I imposed a few restrictions on myself. I cannot use transcendence and blood acceleration. I can only use ardor enhancement on my body.

    Also, I can use Haema only once.

    I wanted to see how the skill learned by this body fares out against a proper swordsman.

    I must say It''s not that bad. The previous Mordred received only some training with weapons but he was able to keep up in a proper battle.

    What an impressive kid.

    I know guys.

    I had three weeks to figure this out but I was spending most of that time in Althea and the gym.

    Heck, the last proper spar I had was the one with Felix in the last chapter.

    Wow. Breaking the fourth wall feels odd.

    But now I have a proper grasp of things.

    I ducked low and Damien''s flaming sword went over my head, singing the ends of my beautiful white hair.

    I then did a sweeping kick to make him fall but the Deathwalker quickly stepped back from range.

    Using the momentum of my swing kick I got to my feet and faced Damien.

    With a smile, I crossed my daggers.

    It''s time to give him a taste of the skills of Sir Mordred.

 31 Absolute Maniac

    [Damien Fray]

    Mordred Pendragon.

    At first, I thought he was another one of those unlucky kids from important families, doomed to a nasty end at the hands of the daemons.

    When I heard that he survived his first battle, I dismissed the news as the kid being lucky.

    Then in the second battle, not only did he survive but he was also able to kill a daemon by himself.

    There is no way you get that kind of luck in Blood Valley.

    Soon I heard stories about the ''Failed Prince'' getting better at surviving on the battlefield. His tenacity and calm demeanor on the battlefield along with his drive to do whatever it takes to survive increased my interest in him.

    The kid even used other newbies as meat shields, pushing their naive and blubbering asses into the blades of the daemons.

    To the outside world, this act will be seen as cowardly and heinous but among Deathwalkers, that''s impressive.

    There hasn''t been any newbie like him in the long bloody history of the Shield.

    And when Felix asked me to spar with Mordred, I said yes immediately.

    I was curious as to his skills.

    The beginning of the fight was quite underwhelming. I faced him with strength equal to his rank and he was always on the defense with the occasional stab or slash with his daggers.

    He has good reflexes and is seen to be able to predict certain attacks. He was also calm throughout the entire spar, analyzing every attack and responding appropriately.

    But his skills were quite basic, the minimum required for a proper fight. Even when I increased the power of my attacks and activated my strand, he didn''t do anything major.

    Sure, he told me that he had imposed a few restrictions on himself, using his strand only once being one of them.

    But his dagger skills?

    They are not bad but they don''t scream ''royal training''.

    But now?

    I feel like something has changed.

    Mordred''s eyes, which were calm during the spar now had a different look in them. It was like a viper getting ready to strike.

    A chill went up my spine when his gaze met mine.

    I realized something.

    He is now on the offensive.

    I gripped my flaming sword, aimed the tip at Mordred, and charged, leaving a trail of flames behind me.

    The young prince made no move to evade my attack and just stood there.

    Just as my sword was about to reach him and I seriously thought of pulling away, he made his move.

    It was a subtle movement but it caught my well-trained eyes. Mordred raised his right dagger to the level of my sword and touched the tip.

    My eyes widened as the light contact deflected my sword so that it missed him by an inch.

    He shifted his feet and the next second he was right at my unprotected side. With a flick of his wrist, he put his left dagger in a reverse grip and slashed upwards.

    I jumped sideways to avoid his attack and twisted my body to execute a horizontal slash.

    He blocked my attack with his right dagger for a second and ducked low before executing a thrust at my abdomen.

    A cold and terrifying feeling overwhelmed me and I instinctively enveloped my body in flames.

    Mordred quickly pulled back and jumped away from me.

    I quickly extinguished my flames and apologized, "I''m sorry. It was an accident."

    Mordred smiled, "It''s fine. My uniform protected me."

    "Also. It is natural to act by instinct when faced with danger."

    Even when he is weaker, he is still cheeky.

    He crossed his daggers in front of him, "Let''s not slack off, shall we?"

    I glanced at Felix and he just smiled smugly with a shrug.

    Oh, you cunning little piece of-

    Before I could finish cursing at him, Mordred charged at me, daggers blazing.

    I quickly entered a stance and ignited my sword.

    He is at a disadvantage due to the low range of his daggers while I have a longer range with my sword.

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    As soon as he was in the range of my sword I attacked. A bright arc of flames rushed at him as I swung my sword horizontally.

    He blocked the attack with a grunt but then did something that surprised me.

    Using the force of the blow to slide on his feet, he reached beside me and aimed a kick at my side.

    I stepped back only for a white dagger with green edges to fill my vision.

    "Incarni!", I yelped and leaned back as the deadly white blade passed over my nose by mere centimeters.

    He then unleashed a storm of attacks upon me. His daggers were a blur as they tried to find a critical hit on me.

    I quickly parried and deflected them but his movements were too fast, and a small cut appeared on my face as his daggers slipped through my shield of parrying.

    I gritted my teeth as I faced this relentless onslaught. The force behind his attacks is weak, not enough to even make me lean backward but his speed and technique are terrifying.

    These are not the skills of a novice but of a crazed knight!

    When I saw his face from between the blur of flames and daggers, my blood ran cold.

    A maniacal smile of pure joy decorated his young face as he attacked me.

    I see. He is one of those bloody battle maniacs.

    My lips curled into a similar smile.

    So am I.

    Not bad kid.

    I gradually increased my power and my flames slowly changed from red to orange. A mad glint appeared in his scarlet eyes as Mordred realized what I was doing.

    "Sweet!", he squealed excitedly and increased the speed of his attacks.

    More and more cuts appeared on my skin and they stung. Even if the basilisk emerald on the dagger doesn''t paralyze you, it still stings like crazy.

    This much lethality with just body enhancement using ardor. How terrifying.

    I think the kid needs to have a rank reevaluation.

    A strong wind was generated by our continuous clash, flames danced and sparks flashed as we went wild.

    Deep cuts and burns appeared on Mordred''s fair skin, his hair singed, and blood dried from the heat of my flames.

    But he was unfazed. He was laughing like an excited child.

    His maniacal laugh shook me and a crippling bloodlust almost paralyzed me.

    This kid is crazier than me.

    Despite the warmth of my flames, my body shivered at the thought of this kid becoming an S rank.

    Seeing his insane growth rate, it is possible.

    What a monster will he become!

    What was the High King even thinking, abandoning such a genius?

    Just then, another thought came to me.

    Perhaps that''s why he sent Mordred to this hell hole.

    Blood Valley has the right conditions to nurture his dormant talent.

    The perfect conditions to unleash a bloody monster.

    If Mordred failed to grow, he would be killed by the lovely daemons.

    I gulped.

    High King Arthur Pendragon. What a devious man.

    I noticed Mordred''s attacks getting slower. He is getting tired and reaching his limit.

    Of course. His body is still weak and his stamina is low. We were exchanging blows for two minutes straight.

    Yet his smile remained.

    Seeing his resolve, I pushed harder, deflecting his attacks with my flaming sword.

    In a flash of orange flames, his left dagger spun out of his hand and embedded right beside Felix''s face.

    "Hey! Watch it you two! Jasper would kill me if she saw a scar on my face on our wedding day", he yelled at us.

    I grinned, "Chill dude! Just suck it up and take a recovery potion!"

    My breathing was slightly heavy and my flames began to flicker. I have used a fair amount of ardor control.

    Controlling ardor in a warlock''s area of influence uses up one''s stamina and mental energy.

    I just feel like I ran continuously at full speed for ten minutes without stopping.

    Tired but not exhausted.

    Mordred on the other hand was panting like crazy and his entire body was shaking. The strain must''ve been too much.

    Blood flowed from his sword wounds and smoke rose from his skin.

    But he was still gripping his other dagger tightly and his left fist was clenched so hard blood was dripping from it.

    Damn.

    "Okay. So now what?", I asked him.

    He looked at me and gave me a shaky smile, "I guess my victory?"

    Before I could even ask, he threw his dagger at me. I quickly shifted my head to dodge the dagger, but it was swift and grazed my cheek.

    I smirked and then I couldn''t move.

    What the?

    A cold stinging sensation seeped into my body, rendering me unable to move a muscle.

    So this is the paralysis effect of basilisk emerald.

    Shit.

    "I''m quite lucky.", Mordred remarked and tossed a small crimson sphere at me.

    It rolled to my feet and I was able to see it clearly. It was a small ball of blood with a smooth surface.

    As I was watching, helplessly paralyzed, a tiny crack appeared on the smooth surface and a crimson glow leaked out of it.

    Ah, shit.

    My paralysis started to wear off just as the ball exploded and my vision was filled with red.

    *******

    [Back To Mordred]

    "It''s not that bad.", Felix said as he helped wipe the blood off Damien.

    But the blood he was covered from head to toe wasn''t his.

    That belongs to yours truly.

    Yeah. I used Blood Grenade and I am quite pleased with the results.

    The unlucky victim of my experiment stared sullenly at Felix, "An E-rank thirteen-year-old beat me."

    He ran his hand through his black hair slick with blood.

    The blood explosion was not that strong since I made a weak version of the highly destructive code but it was enough to launch Damien into the air and splatter the area around him with steaming blood.

    The fact that I am an E-rank also contributed to the low explosive power of the grenade.

    But it was effective and I was beaming. My first code was a success.

    Hehe

 32 A Wraith Gets Creative

    **Warning. There''s going to be some blood and guts in this chapter**

    Damien took half an hour to wash off the blood in the showers.

    In the meantime, I watched the cleaning robots wipe off the unholy amount of blood splattered on the floor of the sparring court.

    Felix had something else to do but told me he''ll return soon. I took that time to rest and take in the recovery potion he gave me.

    As I sipped the azure recovery potion, my stamina returned and my mind cleared with each sip, the fatigue disappeared, and my wounds healed faster.

    I glanced at the blood being washed off by the robots.

    Damn. Looks like a human just exploded on the sparring court.

    That much blood in the weakest Blood Grenade.

    There will probably be a flood if I use the strongest variant of Blood Grenade.

    I let out a sigh. It has been some time since I felt the thrill of battle. It felt good.

    Of course, Felix and Damien were quite surprised. I may have even spooked the latter. I guess they never expected a kid like me to have such a crazy side.

    Well, kids can be quite deceptive.

    The cleaning bots finished their job and rolled away. I was told that my blood would be immediately destroyed inside the metallic guts of the bots so I don''t have to worry about my genetic information leaking out and falling into the wrong hands.

    I sat there alone for a few minutes, thinking about all that had happened.

    This second chance is not that bad. As long as I am strong enough in this world, I do not have to worry about the threat of death.

    It will take time for my original strength to return to this body but I think I will manage.

    "Enjoying some peace by yourself?", a familiar voice asked and I heard the sounds of boots behind me.

    I glanced back, "You done with your other job?"

    Felix chuckled, "Of course."

    "What other job do you have other than ganking daemons?"

    He sat down beside me, "Killing daemons is not the only thing we Deathwalkers do. Of course, it is a top priority but there are other dangers as well."

    "Les Anciennes is an immense location with a whole variety of organisms, especially ardimals that can be quite wild and problematic."

    "So Deathwalkers go hunting in the mountains, especially with their units. Minerva gives us a time slot and we can go hunting or exploration."

    I raised my eyebrows when I heard that, "Exploration?"

    Felix nodded, "Yep! These old immense pieces of rocks are a treasure trove of mysteries. Just last week Unit 93 discovered the ruins of an ancient city two mountains away from the Tomb."

    I stared at him in amazement, "Whoa."

    He grinned, "Also, we can use the materials obtained from hunts for almost anything."

    "Of course, we are still monitored by Minerva, so don''t think of even trying to escape."

    I scoffed, "Obviously."

    I leaned against the wall, "I want to go hunting and exploring."

    Felix ruffled my hair. It has become a regular thing over the past three weeks but I don''t mind it.

    I liked it. It reminded me of the times Gawain would do the same for me.

    "Three more battles to go and after that, you''ll be able to do just that."

    I smiled and the two of us talked about different things, from battlefield survival tips to weapon arts to random rumors about Deathwalkers.

    Eventually, Damien joined us, squeaky clean from his shower and just as the three of us were about to leave the sparring court, the daemon alarm blared all around us.

    "That''s the second alarm today.", Felix muttered and his eyes went to me.

    My bracelet was blinking rapidly.

    "By the Incarni! It had been only a day since you were discharged from Althea.", he breathed and narrowed his eyes, "Did you somehow offend Minerva in some way?"

    I shook my head, "Honestly? I don''t want to know."

    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    "Well. You are not the only one.", Damien grumbled and I glanced at his bracelet. It too was blinking rapidly.

    He grinned at me, "Looks like we''ll be in this together, Mordred. We''ll be in different places but be sure to find me. We''ll kick some daemon ass together."

    I grinned back, "Right on."

    We bumped fists and were instantly teleported to the battlefield.

    Another day of pain it is.

    *******

    "AHHH! I DON''T WANT TO DIE!"

    The newbie screamed just before the daemon drove a huge needle through her neck and dragged it vertically, slicing her head into two halves.

    "Sorry!", I winced as her blood and brain matter sprayed all over me and jumped back.

    She jumped in front of me just as I was running around to find Damien, begging me in her shrill voice to help her.

    That was when the nine-foot daemon appeared behind her.

    It was just too fast.

    But hey, at least she gave me some time. If she hadn''t been there, I would''ve suffered a nasty splitting headache.

    Of course, her brutal death and screams will haunt me in my sleep but that is a price I am willing to pay.

    Anything is better than dying.

    I willed ardor into my legs and made some more distance between me and the faceless humanoid of swirling darkness.

    "Minerva! What is the rank?!", I yelled at my bracelet.

    Another useful feature I found out about the bracelet is that it can immediately scan enemies and roughly determine how strong the daemon is.

    "Master D rank.", Minerva''s cold emotionless voice was barely audible above the noises of battle around me.

    I gritted my teeth. This will be tough.

    I am only a master E rank and on the brink of entering D rank but the enemy is still strong.

    I better not make any mistakes because, unlike Damien who is stronger, this thing is very keen on skewering my handsome face.

    The needle daemon turned its head at me and the next second, it was right in front of me.

    "Shit!", I immediately activated transcendence and I saw the tip of the black needle coming at my face.

    I activated Haema and accelerated my blood. I shifted my foot and twisted my body to the right. The needle grazed my shoulder but I was able to avoid a fatal hit.

    My shoulder burned but I endured it. With some expert footwork, I spun around and came up behind the daemon.

    Before it could react, I slashed my daggers at the spot I believe to be behind the knees of the daemon.

    The white blades sparked at first contact but they sliced into the swirling darkness.

    Black ooze flowed out of the cuts and the daemon buckled a bit. I took that chance and threw one dagger at the back of its head by channeling ardor into my right arm.

    The daemon''s head exploded with black ooze but it was unfazed. It twisted around with inhuman speed and thrust the needle right at my heart.

    I quickly blocked the attack with my dagger, grunting in pain as the bones of my wrist cracked under the huge force.

    Using the blood flowing from my shoulder, I formed a blood tentacle and shot it at the daemon''s head.

    The son of a bitch tilted his head and my tentacle missed. But I smiled.

    There was a flash of white and the daemon''s black needle dissipated into darkness as the dagger I previously threw, now gripped by my blood tentacle severed its wrist in a single slice.

    I smirked and opened my clenched fist right on its faceless visage.

    "Eat this!"

    {Haema: Blood Grenade}

    The powerful explosion of ardor-enhanced blood blew me away. I quickly rolled to the ground and got to my feet.

    I shook my right hand, injured from the blast, and looked at the now needleless daemon.

    The blood grenade had blown a significant portion of its face and black ooze flowed like a waterfall from its now smoking crater for a face.

    Or no face.

    Whatever!

    There was also significant damage to its chest and neck regions but despite this, it began to straighten up.

    I channeled ardor into my legs and shot toward it. I used blood acceleration to boost my physical abilities and aimed my dagger at its exposed black abomination of a heart.

    A small shockwave was produced as the white dagger pierced the heart. The daemon froze and shuddered.

    I quickly used my blood tentacle to retrieve the dagger and booked it as the daemon exploded into a ball of darkness.

    A haunting wail pierced my ears as the crimson smoke of the wraith erupted out of the ball of darkness.

    But instead of dissipating it went behind the explosion and to my horror, entered a Deathwalker who was busy fighting another daemon.

    His back was to my battle and he was so focused on his battle that he didn''t realize the crimson smoke until it was too late.

    He screamed as the crimson smoke entered his body and immediately became silent. But only for a second.

    He unleashed an unholy scream as his body underwent a fearsome transformation. His nails turned into massive black claws, black veins bulged under his death white skin and his eyes turned crimson and feral.

    With an animalistic howl, the wraith jumped on the daemon it faced and in a swift motion, ripped out its... ugh... ugly excuse for a heart. The daemon shuddered and exploded into darkness.

    Huh. Wraiths are effective against daemons. That''s good.

    The wraith''s crimson eyes fell on me.

    Or not.

    With an inhuman screech, it pounced on me, fangs and claws out for blood.

    I yelped and jumped to the side, exposing the unsuspecting Deathwalker behind me to the creature.

    She screamed as the wraith crashed into her and began tearing at her with inhuman strength.

    Judging from her fading aura, I guess she was a C ranker, perfectly capable of dealing with this but caught by surprise, she couldn''t help but scream as the wraith ripped off her arms and crushed her chest, killing her.

    But the unholy creature who used to be human a moment ago was not done.

    As I watched in horror, the wraith ripped open her throat with utter savagery, grabbed her esophagus, and yanked out a major portion of her digestive system through her throat.

    Bile along with my recent meal rose up my own throat and I tried hard not to puke on the bloody snow.

    What the hell did I just witness?

 33 Mordred. Thats The Diaphragm

    The wraith''s eyes turned to me after disemboweling the Deathwalker through her throat.

    Ah, shit.

    I activated transcendence and blood acceleration just as it pounced on me. Despite my buffs, the creature was still quick and took a chunk out of my right arm as I dodged, ripping through the defenses of my uniform.

    I winced but held my ground. I decided to keep my three buffs running to survive.

    The wraith is more dangerous than the daemon as it possesses the body of a Deathwalker who is probably higher ranked than me and the daemon I just killed.

    Sparks flew as my daggers blocked the razor-sharp claws of the wraith as it unleashed a powerful swipe at me.

    I grunted and the force pushed me back. I almost slipped down due to the bloody and slick snow.

    The wraith pounced on me with a primal ferocity and brought down its claws. I flipped one dagger into a reverse grip and met the attack.

    My blood tentacle sneaked behind the creature and stabbed it in the back. However, the wraith was unfazed and continued its savage assault.

    Fortunately, I wasn''t getting pushed back. Sure, numerous wounds were appearing all over my body but I was able to parry and deflect almost all of the wraith''s attacks.

    The wraith may possess the power of the Deathwalker it had possessed but is not using the young man''s skills. It is fighting more like an animal than a skilled soldier.

    And when it comes down to skills, I stand at the top.

    Using transcendence I was able to see the attacks and respond accordingly. My white daggers became a blur as I gradually increased the speed of my attacks.

    I coated my daggers with a thin and sharp layer of rapidly moving ardor to inflict more damage and sure enough, deep wounds began to appear on the wraith''s body.

    Unfortunately, the creature is too focused on ripping off my extremely handsome face to respond to the wounds forming on its body.

    I need to make some distance to pin it to the ground.

    I gritted my teeth and focused on the space between us. My area of influence may have grown over the past three weeks but it is still small.

    So I can only use Blood Grenade three times a day.

    This is my last chance so I need to act smartly.

    This is going to be painful.

    I leaned forward and relaxed a bit to close the distance between me and the wraith.

    The detestable creature took the chance and broke through my wall of blades. It gnashed its teeth and sank its black claws into my shoulders.

    My upper body felt like it was on fire and I let out a cry of agony. But I endured it and looked the wraith in the eyes.

    "Wanna eat my face? How you gonna do that without a mouth?!", I yelled and activated the code between us.

    {Haema: Blood Grenade}

    The powerful explosion of blood blew me away and I landed hard on the bloody snow. I wheezed and my chest throbbed.

    At the moment of the explosion, I channeled ardor on my chest, enforcing it and protecting me from the blast.

    But even with that, I feel like I broke a few ribs. It is painful but I can manage.

    I quickly got to my feet and took out the iron stake from my bracelet. I donned the Flare glove on my left hand and looked ahead for any sign of the wraith.

    The crimson smoke cleared and I saw the wraith. I winced at its poor condition.

    A major chunk of its chest was missing and I could see its beating heart through the mangled bones and flesh, its lower jaw was almost gone, hanging by a thread, and its face was so damaged it made the daemons look like models.

    And those guys don''t have a fucking face.

    My blood tentacle wrapped around the stake and I gripped my daggers as I willed ardor into my legs.

    As a result of my constant training, both in the real world and Eravon''s dream world, I can now maintain transcendence, blood acceleration, and body enhancement at the same time for fifteen minutes.

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    I call this my Triquetra state.

    Man, am I good at names!

    Anyway.

    I leaned forward with my daggers and stake ready to take on the daemon when a familiar chill ran down my back and my instincts screamed at me.

    Shit!

    Before I could even move, a spear-sized arrow pierced through my abdomen and went through my body.

    Those fucking daemons!

    It appears that the arrow was shot by a very high-ranked daemon as I didn''t see it coming even in my transcendent state.

    It was as if a hole just appeared on my body.

    Blood gushed out of the wound with some fleshy bits and I lost concentration. My blood tentacle splashed into the snow and my daggers almost fell off my hands.

    The pain was intense like molten metal seeping into my body.

    I stumbled forward but stopped at the last second. I gritted my teeth, stopped blood acceleration, and focused on healing the unexpected and unnecessary hole in my person.

    I heard a noise and looked ahead. My eyes widened.

    The wraith stood right in front of me, frozen at the spot with a black arrow sticking out of its body.

    By some weird luck, the same arrow that pierced me hit the wraith it pounced on me as I was stumbling.

    Huh. Weird luck.

    But I didn''t waste this opportunity. I quickly picked up the stake and rushed at the wraith.

    With a yell, I crashed into the creature and we tumbled into the bloody snow. In a single fluid motion, I drove the stake into the wraith.

    The unholy creature began to howl and thrash on the bloody ground, throwing me off its body.

    With pain flaring all over my body, I got up and prepared to light the wraith up.

    That''s when a large shadow fell on me.

    "Shit.", I swore as my eyes went up to the large daemon wielding a halberd looking down on me.

    It raised its weapon to kill me when I heard the roar of flames.

    Suddenly, a flaming sword sprouted out of the daemon''s chest and it stopped moving.

    "Heads up Mordred!.", a familiar figure appeared in the air right in front of the daemon and delivered a powerful flaming kick.

    The daemon was launched high in the air and exploded midair in a ball of darkness. The crimson smoke wailed and dissipated as it failed to enter someone.

    The sword that killed the daemon fell from the sky and was caught by the brown-eyed young man with obsidian hair who just saved me.

    Damien landed gracefully beside me and helped me up.

    He winced at my condition, "Damn. They really did a number on you."

    I gave a painful smile, "At least you look better."

    His obsidian hair was disheveled and numerous cuts marred his body but he was in a far better state than I am.

    I pointed at the thrashing wraith, "I almost got one."

    Damien looked at the wild wraith and furrowed his eyebrows, "Mordred. You didn''t strike the heart. That''s the diaphragm."

    "It was?", I frowned and looked closely at the wraith.

    Ah. He was right. I missed the heart.

    Pinning a wraith by the heart restricts its movements and prevents regeneration. Due to my mistake, the wraith has now fully healed and is attempting to pull out the stake.

    Good thing I drove it really deep into the ground.

    The battle raged all around as Damien helped me walk to the struggling and screaming wraith.

    "You want me to do this?", he asked me in a grim tone.

    I know what he meant. Burning the wraith is the same as burning the person and subjecting him to one of the worst deaths.

    For a kid like me, doing something like that could have dire effects on my psyche.

    But I am not a kid. I am a battle-hardened veteran, a villain in the body of the child, I am not that fragile.

    I shook my head, "I will have to do it sooner or later."

    With Damien''s support, I stood over the wraith, wailing and gnashing its teeth at me, ready to eviscerate my body as soon as the stake was removed.

    Damien stepped on the stake that was half out, driving it straight back into the body and into the ground. The wraith wailed in agony.

    That will remain in my nightmares.

    I looked at the wraith with pity, "I''m sorry."

    Soon after that, all emotions left me as I snapped my fingers, and the Flare Gloves unleashed a raging inferno on the wraith.

    The flames caught quickly and the wraith''s screams intensified. It quickly changed into the agonized screams of the Deathwlaker as the blue flames melted his flesh and blackened the exposed bone.

    "WHY?!", he screamed at me, his burning eyes looking into mine, desperately hoping that I would extinguish the flames.

    But it was in vain.

    Damien tried to move me but I stayed in my spot, my eyes fixed on the Deathwalker who stopped struggling and whose screams faded with a final whimper.

    The strong smell of burning flesh assaulted my enhanced nose but I didn''t turn away from the horrifying scene.

    This is something that I must do regularly. I cannot avert my eyes from this inhuman and heinous action of mine.

    I must accept it.

    The flames weakened and I looked down on the smoldering remains of the person I burned alive. I clenched my fist.

    What a disgusting feeling.

    Whoever you are. You are free to hate me and curse me for what I did to you. I am the one who mercilessly burned away your life in the most painful way possible.

    I know what I did and will do in the future will never be forgiven. But even so...

    "I am sorry."

 34 Nightmares

    It feels endless.

    My lungs burned and my feet ached but I couldn''t stop running.

    The moment I do will be the death of me.

    Blood and flesh squelched underneath my boots as I ran on top of the bodies that stretched on forever underneath a crimson sky dotted with black stars.

    Men, women, children, young and old. All of their bodies were either mangled or in pieces. Every time I stumbled I found it hard to move.

    The stench of rotting body parts and blood along with the unpleasant feeling of stepping on said body parts churned my stomach.

    I would be puking my guts out if I weren''t running non-stop.

    And from what or whom I am running away? I don''t know.

    What I do know is that If I stop, things will get nasty.

    And so I ran and ran, blood and bits of human splashing around me with each footfall. My legs begged me to stop but I dared not to.

    A constant and unintelligible whispering surrounded me as I ran. It sounded alien and creepy as fuck.

    It was deafening.

    Suddenly I slipped and tumbled onto the piles of human remains. Soon I was covered in blood and guts.

    Ugh. Disgusting.

    Trying not to slip and get a mouthful of human parts, I got up and ran.

    But I couldn''t move and my skin crawled.

    Something was grabbing my leg.

    I glanced down and my soul almost jumped out of my body. A charred and gross-looking arm was holding my leg.

    The smell of burnt flesh wafted into my nose as the one to whom this arm was attached emerged from the pile of human remains.

    I swallowed my bile and looked at the face of my tormentor.

    "Oh no. Not you.", I whimpered.

    It was the Deathwalker I barbequed two days ago during my fifth battle against the daemons.

    His non-existent lips parted and out came a single word.

    "Why?"

    That single word repeatedly drilled into my ears and the whispers became louder as more hands erupted from the floor of death and began to drag me down.

    I struggled hard but it was no use. When I shake off one arm, two more take its place. I opened my mouth to scream only for a blackened hand to clamp over it.

    Soon my entire body was covered by the hands of the dead and they dragged me down into the sea of bodies.

    No matter how much I struggled, they kept an iron grip on me.

    My stomach churned at the feeling of coming in contact with the blood and dead body parts.

    I kept on struggling even when I sank to my chest. The putrid smell of the dead enveloped me and the whispers turned into maniacal laughter as if their speakers were enjoying my fall.

    I fought against the pull with all my strength. I tore my arm free and stretched it to the crimson sky even as my head went below the bodies.

    Blood and body parts flooded into my mouth, drowning me as the crimson sky disappeared under the bodies and utter darkness enveloped me.

    I screamed and my eyes flew open as I sprang up on my bed.

    I was drenched in sweat and my breathing was abnormally heavy.

    I found myself in my room in the Shield. My panicked eyes fell on the snow gently falling against my window.

    Burying my face into my trembling hands, I tried to calm down.

    "Not again.", I muttered and bit my lips.

    The nightmares are getting more frequent and worse.

    It all started with me getting chased by a daemon holding a goose hammer.

    Now I am running from an unknown assailant on a sea of dead and mutilated bodies.

    My body shuddered when I remembered that horrible place and my stomach started to churn at the thought of all those rotting bodies.

    The image of the charred Deathwalker entered my mind.

    I sighed. Two days had passed since I killed my first wraith.

    It was the first time I didn''t pass out on the battlefield. That meant I couldn''t see Eravon.

    Damien took me to a spot where the battle was not that intense and the Scavengers took me to Althea when the battle was over.

    After spending a day in Althea, I returned to my room and crashed onto my bed.

    I yearned for a good sleep.

    But my nightmares had other ideas.

    I calmed myself down. I expected to have nightmares after my experiences here and was even ready for them.

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    But they are just too vivid and diabolical.

    I glanced at the window a second time. It is still night. The massive searchlights on top of the wall swept across the rugged terrain of the mountains, ever vigilant for any disturbances.

    After all, Les Anciennes is a hostile environment.

    I got up from my bed and washed my face, changed from my sweat-drenched clothes into my uniform minus the jacket.

    I exited my room and went to the elevators.

    Despite it being very late at night, Necropolis is still bustling with activity, especially Althea as the healers treat wounded Deathwalkers.

    Fortunately, the daemons don''t attack during the nighttime so a majority of Deathwalkers take full advantage of that to take a good rest from the horrors of the battlefield.

    Others hang out and enjoy the many fun things available with their friends.

    The elevator gave a pleasant chime as it stopped at the sixth floor and I stepped into the gym.

    For the past three weeks, I would come to the training floors after experiencing nightmares.

    I couldn''t bring myself to fall asleep after experiencing all that horror. So instead of wasting time staring at the ceiling, I would be improving my strength.

    It is a lot less busy than during the day, with only a handful of Deatwalkers working out and improving their skills.

    There is also the added benefit of no one bothering me.

    Like Felix said, I have a big target painted on my back.

    Felix''s and Damien''s presence protected me from troublemakers and even when they were absent, I was able to hold my ground against the assholes.

    And whenever things got physical I released my bloodlust to freeze them and make my escape.

    So far I didn''t get any serious injuries. Just a few bruises from the blows.

    Hey. I suffered worse stuff.

    I nodded to the other Deathwalkers in the gym and they nodded back to me. I''ve become familiar with them over the past three weeks since we use the gym late into the night.

    They were quite friendly and even gave me some tips to improve my strength.

    "Hello, Your Highness.", a burly young man wearing a tank top that showed off his magnificent muscles smiled warmly at me as he dropped the heavy chains he was exercising with.

    His copper-toned skin glistened with sweat and his grey eyes sparkled as he addressed me in a deep regal voice.

    He ran his hands through his glistening black hair and gave me a small bow.

    I nodded with a smile, "Hello, Count Seastine, I see you have increased the size of your chains."

    He chuckled as he towered over my small frame, "Please your Highness. I am no longer a Count. Just call me Aaron."

    "And I am no longer a High Prince. Just call me Mordred.", I told him.

    Aaron Seastine was a Count in the southern region of the Kingdom. The Seastines were on the path to becoming an Axial Family when tragedy struck.

    An opposing family unleashed a devastating attack on his estate, destroying everything. The entire Seastine family got killed and Aaron barely escaped with his life.

    With nothing left for him, he decided to become a Deathwalker, to become strong enough not to lose anything else in his life.

    He didn''t yearn for revenge but he does wish to punch the guy who ruined his life in the face.

    At twenty-nine years of age, he is one of the oldest Deathwalkers and is one of the strongest in the Shield.

    He was the one who devised a training plan for me and I have greatly benefited from it.

    "So what''s new?", he asked as he wiped off the sweat with a towel.

    "I killed my first wraith.", I told him.

    He gave me a worried look, "Are you alright? It must have been horrible for you."

    I shook my head, "Don''t worry. I''m managing."

    Of course, I lied. I can''t tell him about my nightmares. Sure, he is a friendly person but we''re not that familiar with each other, unlike Felix.

    "I would be lying if I said that things will get better but you must remain strong.", he placed his huge hand on my shoulder, almost making my knees buckle.

    I chuckled, "I''ll remember that."

    He beamed at me, "That''s the spirit! You going for the treadmill?"

    I shudder at the mention of the treadmill, still scarred from my first experience with a treadmill and I have avoided using it.

    Looks like it is time to face my past.

    I nodded with a determined smile, "Yes I am."

    "I wish you the best then!", Aaron patted my shoulder again, almost dislocating it, and walked to his heavy chains that probably weigh a ton.

    "Ah yes!", he turned around, "I think I just saw the Fairy walk into the gym a few moments before your arrival."

    "Just watch out for her. She is quite the character."

    I frowned. The Fairy of Tenbris is here in the middle of the night? I didn''t know she liked to train in the middle of the night.

    Perhaps a new routine?

    I don''t know much about her except for her name, Iris Karsus.

    She is quite the celebrity in Necropolis, being among the youngest Deathwalkers and the youngest vice-captain in the Shield''s history.

    I had only seen glimpses of her on the battlefield, decimating daemons left and right with her monstrous skills and Tenebris strand.

    I heard she is about to become a master A rank.

    Wow. She is on the same level as Gawain at such a young age. If Gawain and Morgan are geniuses, then Iris would be a genius among geniuses.

    I also heard she is quite the odd one. I haven''t heard how she is odd but every Deathwalker agrees that she is odd.

    What a weird girl.

    I soon reached a treadmill. Gingerly placing my feet on the belt I activated the machine and began to jog, careful not to touch the awakened mode button.

    After jogging for a few minutes I increased the speed such that soon I was running.

    I breathed steadily and found a rhythm.

    A small smile appeared on my face as I ran on the treadmill. This is good.

    That''s when the whispering began. My blood ran cold as the familiar incoherent whispering surrounded me.

    Suddenly I was not in the gym.

    "Oh no. No no."

    I found myself in my nightmare, running on the mutilated corpses of people, covered in blood.

    My heart began to beat wildly as my running shoes squelched on the body parts.

    It can''t be. I woke up! Why am I seeing this?

    Am I hallucinating?

    Oh, Incarni! Am I already losing my mind?

    I panicked and stretched out my hand in front of me. I grabbed something, something that felt like a tag.

    The emergency stop key!

    Desperately, I yanked it and the treadmill came to a sudden stop.

    My nightmarish surroundings immediately vanished and I caught myself from slamming my face on the instrument panel of the treadmill.

    I was panting and my body was trembling all over.

    What the heck was that? Did my running on the treadmill trigger the memories of my nightmare?

    Just as I was wondering about what just happened, I felt a presence beside me.

    "Geez. What did the treadmill do to you for you to have nightmares?"

    I turned my head and saw her looking at me with a curious expression.

    Iris Karsus tilted her head and narrowed her eyes.

    "You''re Mordred Pendragon? Felix told me about you."

 35 You Got Beaten Up By A Teddy Bear

    "Uh. Yeah?"

    I said nervously, I stammered, suddenly feeling uneasy under the gaze of her deep blue eyes. It was as if I was completely exposed to her scrutiny.

    Yet, I couldn''t tear my eyes away from her captivating beauty.

    Her curious face held an undeniable allure and her long black hair transitioned to a bright blue that almost seemed like it was glowing.

    As she stepped back to have a better look at me, I took the opportunity to observe her.

    Clad in black track pants, trainers, and a matching tank top, she possessed a slim figure that appeared healthier than mine.

    And she is taller than me.

    I was speechless. If she was this striking at thirteen, she''d undoubtedly put supermodels to shame once she reached adulthood.

    However, looking at her arms, I doubt she will be into modeling in this lifetime.

    Numerous scars cast a horrifying contrast against her otherwise porcelain skin, now marred by those terrible marks.

    On her forearm is the mark of the Deathwalker with one line depicting a year spent in the Shield.

    Shivers ran down my spine as I gazed at Iris Karsus.

    In just one year this child has accumulated so many scars and the ones on her arms, neck, and shoulders are just the beginning.

    I bet there are scars all over her body.

    I shuddered. Is this what will happen to me as well?

    Iris tilted her head with an amused look. She had noticed me staring at her.

    "I know I''m quite the knockout, so feel free to stare for however long you wish."

    I quickly averted my eyes and my face flushed, "Sorry about that."

    With a smirk, Iris teased, "Ha! That''s cute. When I first saw you on the battlefield, I wondered what a beautiful weakling like you was doing in this hell."

    Ouch. Her words stung me.

    But she wasn''t done, "And then I learned that you are Mordred Pendragon, the infamous Failed Prince who was so weak he got beaten up by a teddy bear."

    I winced at her words.

    Yeah. That really happened. Gawain and Morgan were playing around with a code that gave inanimate objects the ability to move.

    Somehow the teddy bear they used it on escaped and ended up in the Dawn Palace where it found Mordred and beat him to a pulp.

    The bear''s body wasn''t even enhanced and still Mordred suffered bruises from the soft furry punches.

    During that time, he was weaker than a normal person.

    Yeesh. How embarrassing.

    "I fully expected you to die on your first day. I was looking forward to it. It''s not every day you see a High Prince experiencing a brutal death.", Iris said and she looked rather disappointed.

    "But here you are, alive and kicking. You even got stronger.", her disappointed face changed and she now looked rather impressed.

    "You are an interesting kid."

    I frowned, "We''re the same age."

    She smirked, "But I am way stronger than you."

    "However. I heard your speed of growth is phenomenal among warlocks.", Iris said before turning around to leave.

    "Get stronger and survive, Mordred Pendragon. Perhaps we''ll fight together one day. I would also love to have a one-on-one battle with you."

    With those words, she left the gym, darkness trailing behind her and eventually enveloping her.

    I looked back at the spot where she disappeared.

    What the heck just happened?

    I thought about Iris Karsus as I continued my workout.

    She really is an oddball.

    *******

    Flames danced around Damien as he knocked Felix''s arrows out of the air.

    As I watched, he bent his knees and lunged forward like a fiery lance at his opponent.

    Felix quickly shot another volley of arrows at Damien before teleporting a good distance behind the flaming swordsman.

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    Without wasting a single second, he fired off five arrows in quick succession.

    Three of the arrows suddenly blinked out of existence and rained down from above Damien in the next second.

    He now had arrows coming at him from three sides.

    I was astonished. All of this happened in a matter of mere seconds.

    Felix''s mastery over Locus is phenomenal!

    And his archery skills are simply terrifying. Maybe it''s because he is a superhuman, his skills as an archer greatly surpassed me during my prime.

    I shuddered. Felix is not even the best archer in the Shield and he is this good. I wonder what kind of monster would the strongest archer here would be.

    They could probably decimate an entire mountain.

    My eyes went over to Damien and his sword skills.

    I must admit. His mastery of the sword is on par with the strongest knights of my past life but he is still far from my skills during my ever glorious prime.

    Yeah. I am that much of a genius. The only ones who could beat me in swordplay were Lancelot and my father.

    Heh.

    But even so, Damien''s skills enthralled me. His swings, slashes, thrusts, and even the way his strand is attached to his sword, all of it fascinated me.

    I am a master swordsman but I still thirst to gain more skills and knowledge as a knight.

    And so I watched Damien as he sparred with Felix. I watched his footwork, how his arms moved, the shifting of his eyes, and how he distributed his weight.

    I observed all of them for about five minutes. A greedy smile appeared on my face.

    Damien Fray''s skills are truly exceptional. Perhaps his swordsmanship is something passed down in his family.

    From my knowledge, the Frays are a powerful noble family under the Sterling Axial Family in the western part of the Kingdom.

    Something must have happened to them if Damien Fray, the next head of the family is here in the Shield fighting daemons.

    There is a huge library in Necropolis. I should go there and increase my knowledge when I am not training or fighting daemons.

    My attention was back on Damien and my eyes glinted with greed.

    I want to know the sword art of the Frays.

    Suddenly a crippling pain stabbed me right in the head. A painful and familiar feeling of a deluge of information being injected into my brain caused me to cry out.

    A constant ringing in my ears drowned out the concerned voices of Felix and Damien as they rushed toward me.

    The pain was so intense that I think I blacked out for a minute.

    And then just like how it came, the pain disappeared, leaving me gasping for air and clutching my head.

    "Mordred! Are you okay? What happened?", Felix placed a hand on my shoulder and gave me a concerned look.

    Damien was behind him and he also looked worried.

    "You alright, Mordred? You look awful. What happened?"

    I didn''t speak a word until I steadied my breathing. Felix and Damien waited for me to calm down.

    When my breathing steadied enough to not make me look like an asthma patient I spoke to Felix and Damien.

    "I don''t know.", I gasped, trying to make sense of what the heck just happened.

    "I was observing Damien during your spar when a headache just slammed into me."

    "Observing?", Damien asked, shifting uncomfortably.

    I rolled my eyes, "I was observing your skills."

    "Ah.", Damien grinned sheepishly, "For a moment I thought we were fascinating with my utter beauty."

    He immediately shrank under the disgusted gazes from me and Felix.

    "Anyway.", I continued. "There was this awful headache that lasted for a minute and some kind of information entered my mind."

    Felix raised an eyebrow, curious, "Information? What kind of information?"

    "Hold up.", I said and closed my eyes, trying to find the information that had just painfully entered my mind.

    My brain felt like scrambled noodles but I was able to find it.

    I froze when I found the information in my head.

    "No way.", I whispered, absolutely shocked by what I just learned. I just couldn''t believe it!

    Felix gripped my shoulders, snapping me out of my shock.

    "What is it Mordred?"

    I looked at him and then to Damien. My eyes lingered on the young Fray.

    "I don''t know how to say this.", I started, "The information I got..."

    Please don''t kill me, Damien.

    "Damien''s sword arts."

    There was a silence as my words sank into the two Deathwalkers.

    "My...sword arts?", Damien blurted out, shock and confusion evident on his face.

    I nodded slowly, "The position of the feet, how to hold the blade, the amount of ardor to coat the blade... All of that information is now in my head."

    "Just how is that possible?", Damien was super confused right now. He turned to Felix for answers, "What do you think?"

    "Hm.", the cyan-haired Deathwalker was deep in thought.

    After pondering for a moment, he gave me a curious look, "Mordred. Spar with Damien."

    Damien smacked him on the head, "Really Felix? Now? Aren''t we supposed to figure out what just happened?"

    "Just trust me, alright?", Felix grumbled, rubbing his head.

    He turned to me, "I''ll go grab a practice sword for you. Wait a moment."

    "Practice sword?", I asked, perplexed.

    He nodded, "Yeah. You''ll be facing Damien with a sword."

    He quickly walked out of the sparring court to get a practice sword for me. I and Damien looked at each other, very much confused about the situation.

    "This is getting weird.", he commented.

    I nodded. Yeah. No shit.

    After a minute of waiting, Felix came back, now holding a practice sword that looked similar to the type Damien was using.

    He handed me the sword. It is a bit heavy for me but feels good. Looks like my constant training is bearing some good fruit.

    "Why are we doing this?", I asked Felix, giving him a skeptical look.

    There is something he is not telling me and it has something to do with my headache.

    "Exactly. What are you up to?", Damien asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

    Felix sighed and urged, "Just spar, you two. It will be easier to show you."

    He smiled at me, "If my hunch is correct. This will greatly benefit you, Mordred."

 36 Cheat Code

    "You sure about this, Felix? Last I''ve heard, Mordred is a dagger user."

    Damien remarked with hesitation, facing me as our swords readied to clash.

    Felix merely grinned, "Quite sure my friend. I am quite sure."

    "Now! Both of you, go bonkers!"

    As soon as those words escaped his lips, I channeled ardor into my legs and shot toward Damien.

    He did the same and our swords collided in a shower of sparks. I gritted my teeth as Damien''s enormous strength pushed me back.

    Despite this overwhelming disadvantage, I managed to keep myself from getting knocked over by my opponent.

    We jumped back and faced each other.

    Damien''s eyes glowed as he activated Ignis. I too activated Haema and accelerated my blood.

    Felix clapped his hands and declared, "No strands for this spar, gentlemen."

    Damien rolled his eyes, "Really man?"

    "I insist.", Felix emphasized.

    So reluctantly, we stopped using our strands.

    "Oh and Mordred.", he called out to me, "Try tapping into that recent info inside your noggin."

    I just looked at him, absolutely puzzled.

    Tap into the information about Damein''s skills?

    Can I even do that?

    I guess I should try it.

    Still puzzled, I attempted to access the data about Damien''s skills embedded in my mind.

    I exhaled and adjusted my stance, mimicking Damien. He noticed my movements and whistled.

    "No way.", he muttered, dumbfounded.

    He squinted his eyes and entered another stance. I adjusted my body and imitated his stance to the exact position.

    "You''ve got to be kidding me.", Damien raised his eyebrows and his mouth turned into a nervous smile.

    In a flash, he lunged forward and executed an upward slash.

    Somehow, my body moved by itself and executed a perfect parry. My movements correspond exactly with the information in my head.

    What the fuck is happening?

    Damien seemed to be thinking the same thing as he looked like I had just stolen his wife.

    It is a weird comparison considering that I am currently thirteen years old, but I think it''s a good one.

    Anyway.

    Damien shifted his feet and unleashed a whirlwind of slashes at me. However, I mirrored his moves, utilizing his techniques against him.

    The sparring court rang with the sounds of our swords clashing with each other into a perfect harmony of perfectly executed moves.

    But with each swing of Damien''s sword, something unusual unfolded during the spar.

    My body moved on its own and I am aware of the different ways he would attack me with.

    Information about his movements, breathing, and even the sword paths were swirling around in my head.

    I absorbed new information while my body moved in sync with Damien''s style as if tapping into a mental library of his skills that was seared into my head.

    Damien narrowed his eyes and increased the intensity of his attacks.

    I did the same as well, using his attacks against him

    A powerful exhilaration tinged with confusion clouded my thoughts as the spar continued in a flurry of sparks.

    I tried to organize my thoughts as we fought.

    I received information about Damien''s skills by observing him fighting against Felix.

    Now as I faced him in combat, my body was able to react and move according to the information I received from my astute observation.

    I grinned, realizing the uncanny feat I''d achieved��I''d mimicked Damien Fray''s sword arts and am now executing them with precision.

    Of course, his strikes were stronger and quicker than mine but my movements are an exact mirror of his.

    "Bloody hell, man! What is this trickery?" Damien exclaimed in disbelief.

    We continued trading blows, two swordsmen locked in a dazzling display of identical techniques.

    Every footwork, every blow, every swing, I know all of them and mimicked them to perfection.

    In the corner of my eye, I noticed Felix looking at the battle with an amused smile.

    Soon both of us were facing each other, completely out of breath and drenched in sweat.

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    My entire body is sore from the spar and the exertion of using Damien''s skills.

    An amused Felix approached us, applauding the spectacle. "By the Incarni! That was a splendid display of skills!"

    "Shut up Felix.", Damien grumbled as he straightened up and glared at the Deathwalker.

    "You knew what happened here."

    The cyan-haired young man shrugged, "I only had a hunch."

    "A hunch, really?", Damien raised an eyebrow.

    I frowned, "What hunch?", I asked, equally baffled by what just happened.

    Felix''s eyes fell on me, "That you can copy the sword arts of the Frays."

    "Ah.", I immediately felt very awkward and bowed my head to Damien, "Sorry for that."

    He just waved his hands dismissively, "It''s fine. I don''t care about that."

    "What I do care about is how you managed to perfectly execute the sword arts that took me about ten years to master."

    He gave me a curious look, "Just how did you do it?"

    I gave him a blank look and shook my head, "I haven''t the slightest clue, Damien."

    It is true. I have no idea what is happening with my head and body right now.

    Sure, I was a quick learner in my past life. But to be able to perfectly copy an opponent''s entire skill set?

    What kind of bananas is that?

    "Hm.", Felix looked me up, as if wondering what kind of new creature I was.

    "I have another idea.", He picked up his bow and some arrows, "I need you to observe my movements, Mordred."

    He tapped his bracelet and spoke.

    "Minerva. Configure sparring court number 69 to archery combat mode."

    "Which difficulty?", Minerva''s cool metallic voice sounded from the bracelet.

    Felix smiled, "Advanced."

    "Very well, Felix.", Minerva replied, and the sparring room rumbled as the floor panels slid open and automated training dummies holding practice swords rose out of them.

    Their heads jerked up as Minerva activated them and immediately pounced on Felix.

    The cyan-haired Deathwalker nocked two arrows to the bow, "Watch me."

    I nodded and kept my eyes peeled on Felix as he pulled the bowstring taut and released with an exhale.

    The two arrows whizzed in the air and they passed through the heads of four dummies in an instant.

    He quickly asked Minerva to stop the dummies and turned to me.

    "Anything?"

    I shook my head, "Nope."

    "Huh. Weird.", he placed his hand on his chin as pondered. After a minute his eyes suddenly lit up as if he received an epiphany.

    "Ah! So that''s it!"

    He gave me an excited look, "Mordred! When you observe my skills, wish for them."

    "Huh?", I blinked in confusion.

    "Just do it.", Felix implored and pulled out three arrows from his quiver.

    "Okay, Mordred. Observe and wish.", He instructed and resumed the march of the dummies.

    The practice dummies rushed at him holding a whole variety of weapons.

    Felix was calm as he fired arrow after arrow, hitting the dummies in vital spots and restricting their movements.

    I observed his every movement.

    His breathing, his posture, the way he held the bow, the tension on the bowstring.

    I observed every single thing.

    I kept my eyes on him even when he moved around, decimating dummy after dummy with his ardor-enhanced arrows and with his bow whenever a dummy came close.

    His handling of the bow is beautiful.

    A desire emerged within me��I wanted his skills.

    Immediately, a splitting headache forced me to cry out in pain.

    My sword fell out of my hand and I dropped to my knees, clutching my head as a red-hot spike of pain and information drilled into my head.

    It subsided after a minute and when I opened my eyes and raised them, I saw Felix and Damien looking at me with concern.

    "You okay, man?", Damien asked.

    I nodded, "Yeah. I think. Just like before, the headache disappeared after a minute."

    I then turned to Felix, "I think it just worked. The basic information about your skills is now in my head."

    Felix looked shocked by my words, "Really? Huh. I was sure to show you the difficult stuff."

    I shrugged, "Well, I only have information on the skills you just showed me. I have nothing on some of your hidden skills."

    "Interesting.", Felix placed a hand on his chin and looked at me with an amused smile.

    He took off the bow slung on his back and handed it to me along with a quiver full of arrows.

    I looked at the weapons and then at Felix, an eyebrow raised, "You sure?"

    "I''m curious."

    I nodded and gave my sword to a very curious Damien and accepted the bow from Felix.

    I took out two arrows as training dummies emerged from the floor.

    "Let''s see what is on the crazy list."

    *******

    [Felix]

    "You have got to be frigging kidding me."

    Damien said, his eyes widened in disbelief as he witnessed the unbelievable sight before him.

    He is not the only one.

    It took me a whole minute to process what just happened.

    I just saw a thirteen-year-old perfectly replicate the exact skills I displayed to him down to the most minute detail.

    It felt quite eerie.

    Mordred''s ruby-red eyes glowed faintly as he looked at the training dummies lying around him, all of them having arrows sprouting from joints, heads, and other vital areas.

    His strength wasn''t enough to destroy the dummies like me but he was able to defeat them using the bow skills that took me years to master.

    Exhaustion blanketed Mordred, evident in his heavy breaths and hunched posture.

    He seemed bewildered, struggling to comprehend his achievement.

    But I had to confirm my suspicions.

    And boy were they on the spot!

    A small smile crept up my mouth.

    What I am feeling right now is neither happiness nor fear. It was a curious blend that whispered of newfound possibilities.

    Images of last year flashed across my mind when Iris Karsus effortlessly killed her first daemon within two days of her arrival in the Shield.

    The feeling I had back then resurfaced as I looked at the white-haired crimson-eyed boy recovering his breath.

    A shudder passed through my body.

    Looks like another monster has stepped foot into this hell overflowing with blood.

    "Amazing.", I told him.

    Mordred looked at me, his face filled with shock and confusion.

    "Felix. What the hell just happened?"

    My grin widened and a surge of pride welled in me as I spoke.

    "Looks like you just awakened your Stigma."

 37 Stigma

    [Back To Mordred]

    "Stigma? What is that?", I asked after plopping on the floor, my body sore from the intense sparring.

    Felix and Damien joined me, settling amidst the fallen training dummies, taking a moment to relax on the cool floor.

    After a short while, Felix asked, "You don''t know about them?"

    I shook my head, "Nope."

    I don''t recall any mention of a stigma in any of the books read by previous Mordred or any books I read in the Necropolis Library.

    Yeah, this place does have a library, pretty odd, right?

    Felix shrugged, "I guess the concept has not fully entered the books."

    He looked at me, "Stigmas were first discovered by Merlin in the Shield. Distinguishing stigmas from codes took some time."

    "So what are they?", I asked, not particularly interested in Merlin''s accolades.

    "In simple terms, a stigma is a unique special ability or skill tied to a person''s soul, not their ardor," Felix explained.

    "A special ability unique to a person.", I repeated those words and looked at Felix with curiosity, "So everyone has a stigma?"

    "Kind of.", Damien chimed in, "According to Merlin, every person in Asteris has a stigma but many never awaken them and live on with their lives without even realizing they have a special ability unique to themselves."

    Felix chuckled, "Plus, it''s a relatively new concept."

    He continued, "Well. Even if people are aware many won''t be able to awaken their stigmas as an awakening would usually depend on the strength of a person''s soul."

    "And you''re saying my soul is strong?", I scoffed. The idea sounded like the start of a joke.

    I have a strong soul?

    Very funny.

    Damien shrugged, "Maybe. You are quite the interesting kid, Mordred."

    "Regardless of whether you have a strong soul or not, the fact remains that you awakened your stigma today.", he said.

    "And that is quite dope."

    I was speechless for a moment. I awakened a unique ability in this world.

    Wow.

    I glanced at Felix, "You arranged the spars for me to see whether I awakened my stigma?"

    He nodded, "And also to understand what it might be."

    "And what is your inference?", I asked, raising an eyebrow.

    Of course, I have a suspicion as to the identity of my newly awakened stigma.

    Felix noticed my expression and grinned, "Mordred. Your stigma is the ability to copy an opponent''s skill."

    Damien whistled in awe and glanced at me, "Now that''s what I call a cheat code!"

    He then turned to Felix, "That''s a powerful stigma. Surely there must be a price."

    I frowned, "Price?"

    Felix nodded at me, "A stigma is something that defies common logic, Mordred."

    He held up two fingers, "There are mainly two types of stigmas."

    "The first type provides perks that aren''t too powerful and break a particular balance. They have no conditions that should be fulfilled to use them."

    "For example. There is a Deathwalker whose stigma is called Perfect Penmanship."

    "Perfect... penmanship?" I echoed a hint of skepticism in my tone.

    Felix nodded, "His stigma grants perfect and beautiful handwriting no matter the circumstances��shaky hands, unstable surface. It doesn''t matter."

    "Sounds like a useless stigma.", I remarked.

    "On the contrary my friend, he is quite popular in Necropolis.", Damien chimed in, "He''s the one to go to if you want a heart-stealing love letter written to your crush or beloved."

    "Anyway," Felix continued, "Perfect Penmanship is not powerful and has no conditions for activation."

    "Then there''s the second type," he explained, "They need certain conditions to activate."

    "One great example would be the stigma of Iris Karsus.".

    I perked up when the Fairy of Tenebris was mentioned, "She has a stigma?"

    Damien nodded, "Yeah. And it is bloody overpowered."

    "Emphasis on bloody.", Felix winced, "Her stigma is called Coup de grace where she unleashes one powerful strike that deals a completely fatal blow against her opponent."

    "It doesn''t matter where the opponent gets hit or how powerful they are, Iris''s Coup de grace will kill them on the spot. It''s kind of like a one-shot kill."

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    I whistled, "What if she misses?"

    "That''s the thing, Mordred. Coupe de grace doesn''t miss at all."

    My eyes glittered in wonder, "Amazing! A one-shot kill stigma! That is overpowered! Her stigma can kill anything?", I lowered my voice, "Even an Incarnus?"

    Felix nodded, "Theoretically yes. Coup de grace is capable of killing an immortal. She hasn''t tested it though for obvious reasons."

    I noticed his expression, "But there is a catch?"

    "A nasty one.", Damien snorted.

    Felix nodded in agreement, "For Iris to use Coup de grace, she must be near death."

    My mouth curved into a frown, "Won''t she die before using her stigma?"

    Damien shook his head, "Nah. Her stigma keeps her alive until she unleashes the strike. After that, she''ll be out for a week."

    I grimaced, "Wow. That is quite inconvenient. She must not use it that often."

    Felix laughed, "Quite the opposite, my friend. She uses it in almost every battle toward the end or when she faces a powerful opponent."

    "Is she a bloody masochist?", I shuddered at the thought of being near death in every single battle.

    He shrugged, "Maybe."

    "Anyway. Coupe de grace is a stigma that is capable of killing immortals. So it has harsh conditions. The more powerful a stigma, the tougher its activation conditions."

    "I see.", I nodded.

    A feeling of uncertainty crept in me, "My stigma. Does it have conditions?"

    Felix went in thought for a moment before answering.

    "Well. From what I have gathered over your spar, you need to observe your opponent''s moves and wish for them."

    "There is also the rather nasty headache you experience when you first copy the skills."

    I pondered his words. Everything he said is correct but there is something else. Copying skills is a powerful ability so there must be another condition.

    A small idea popped up in my head. I turned to Damien.

    "Hey. Can we have another sword spar?"

    Damien raised an eyebrow. "You planning to use my skills against me?"

    Shaking my head, I clarified, "No, I want to test something."

    "Oh?", Felix looked curious, "You seem to be onto something."

    He turned to Damien, "Dude. He may have your skills but you are stronger than him."

    Damien sighed, "Fine.", he picked up his sword and got up.

    The next minute, we faced each other, swords ready to clash.

    Felix gave the signal and we rushed at each other.

    The fight was a short one.

    After five minutes my butt was plopped on the floor and Damien''s sword was pointed at my throat.

    Not only could I no longer access his skills, but I couldn''t even use the swordsmanship from my past life.

    I struggled hard against Damien''s attacks and quickly succumbed.

    Damien was very puzzled, "What the heck? This was way different from what I imagined."

    I looked at a confused Felix, "I think I discovered another condition for my stigma."

    "I can no longer use Damien''s skills. Heck, I cannot even use the basic swordsmanship I received from my training in the palace."

    Felix''s eyes widened in realization, "I see! So the only thing you can use is my set of archery skills?

    I probed through my mind and nodded, "Yep. That is the case."

    I gave him a worried look, "How do I cancel it?"

    He shrugged, "Try wishing to have your skills removed? Or there could be a timer?"

    "But hey! At least you have a stigma. It''s way cooler than mine.", he patted me on the shoulder and tried to cheer me up.

    I blinked and stared at him, "You have a stigma as well?"

    Felix nodded with a smirk, "Yep. It is very handy for an archer."

    He closed his right eye and the sclera of his left eye turned black and his iris glowed. I suddenly got the feeling of someone watching me from behind.

    I turned around but found no one. I got the eerie feeling again, this time from my right and so I looked in that direction.

    Again. Nothing.

    "What the heck?", I voiced.

    I looked at Felix and saw him grinning at me, his blackened eye looking like he was seeing something other than what was before him.

    "Alternate Gaze. This is my stigma.", he said.

    "My stigma allows one of my eyes to see things from a different angle or perspective than what my other eye perceives."

    "This allows me to have a different and unique vantage point that will offer different insights, details, or information compared to my regular vision.", he explained.

    "Essentially, I can have a different perspective through this eye.", he said, pointing at his black and green eyes.

    "That is quite useful. As an archer, you will gain a huge advantage.", I noted, "Honestly I am jealous."

    "Says the guy who can copy skills," Felix retorted with a smirk.

    I cocked my head and stared at him, "So what are the conditions?"

    Damien snickered, "Oh you are going to love this, Mordred."

    I gave him a puzzled look and then turned to Felix and was taken aback by what I saw next.

    Felix sighed, looking embarrassed. "Please don''t laugh."

    His left eye returned to normal and he immediately broke into an exaggerated wiggle dance that looked so ridiculous it took me a minute to process what was happening.

    I turned to see Damien barely holding back laughter. He saw my face and chuckled, "The condition of Alternate Gaze is to do a wiggle dance after using the stigma."

    "The duration of the dance depends on how long the stigma remained active. For example, Felix activated his stigma for about a minute."

    "So I have to dance for a full minute.", Felix finished Damien''s sentence and his wiggle dance. He gave me a sheepish smile, "So yeah. This is my stigma."

    I gave him a look of pity, "Your stigma has the worst condition I have ever heard."

    He nodded wholeheartedly, "Yeah. I don''t even like dancing."

    "Anyway. Enough about my stigma.", Felix shook his head and redirected, "What are you going to name your stigma?"

    Ah, the name of my stigma. I contemplated long and hard, running several cool names in my mind.

    Grand Mimicry?

    Doppelganger?

    Shadow Mimic?

    Many names like these swirled in my mind. Some were even straight-up embarrassing. After a few minutes of intense brainstorming, I found a good name.

    Well, I hope it is.

    "Talent Echo."

    "Talent Echo? You sure?" Felix asked, surprised.

    "Is it bad?" I inquired, concerned.

    "Bad? It''s cool!", Felix beamed and Damien nodded his head furiously in agreement. Their enthusiasm brought a smile to my face.

    "Talent Echo it is!"

 38 I Wet My Pants

    "Greetings newbies. I am Kay and I will be in charge of the newbie unit for this battle."

    Uncle Kay greeted the assembled newbies with a professional nod.

    Everyone was staring at him in shock.

    It''s not every day that the commander of the Deathwalkers, a Knight of the Round, would be seen as a captain of the newbie unit.

    I bet everyone would wonder why someone as powerful as Sir Kay would helm a unit with members whose lifespan in battle often lasted mere minutes.

    I heard that Kay participates in the battle against daemons daily.

    However, his responsibilities overseeing the Shield limited his participation to one battle per day.

    When he took to the field, he commanded all units, directing roles and advising Unit Captains.

    His strategic brilliance made him a force to be reckoned with.

    It is said that when Kay enters the battlefield, an easy victory with minimum casualties is promised.

    I looked at him and our eyes locked for a second. A shudder passed through my body and I understood why he was here.

    To observe me.

    A week had passed since I awakened my stigma, and my sixth battle occurred three days ago.

    It went better than the previous ones since I used my stigma, Talent Echo.

    Sure. Getting a crippling headache and being unable to use my skills afterward sucked but it was worth it.

    Through experiments with Felix and Damien, I determined that upon deactivating Talent Echo, I would be unable to use my skills for the same duration I used the skills I copied.

    For instance, five minutes of using the copied sword skills of Damien meant I''d be without my own skills for five minutes upon deactivation of my stigma.

    The fact that I am a Linker probably saved my life since the condition doesn''t affect my strand and codes.

    So here''s how I prepared.

    I purchased different types of schattium weapons using Kay''s allowance and my Deathwalker salary.

    I bought swords, spears, bows, axes, and other weapons I was familiar with in my past life, ready to copy the skills of talented Deathwalkers.

    I also acquired a curious gadget called Omni Contacts. They are contact lenses that are connected to my bracelet connected to Minerva.

    It is mainly used to analyze and display information.

    Sure, the Deathwalker bracelet can also give information but one would have to speak directly to it, and let it scan the object of interest.

    If you are on a hunt it will not be a problem. But on the battlefield fighting daemons? That is quite hard.

    With the Omni contacts, I could just look at the daemon or ardimal I face.

    The contacts would analyze the ardor signature and appearance, communicate with Minerva through my bracelet and necessary info like the rank would be displayed in my vision.

    The info will be displayed so that my sight will not be hindered at all.

    Cool right?

    All hail the future!

    All hail technology!

    Anyway.

    This is my seventh and final battle as a newbie. After this, I will have a better room and a roommate.

    I will also have full access to the workshop on the 30th floor alongside the choice to join a Unit or go solo.

    Those are some major changes if I survive this battle and I fully intend to.

    The ringing of bells that have become quite familiar to me echoed across the valley, heralding the arrival of the daemons and another battle in hell.

    I crossed my daggers in front of me and entered my triquetra state.

    Since becoming a beginner D rank a few days ago, I can maintain this state for fifteen minutes before collapsing.

    I glanced at Kay''s back as he gazed at the silent march of the emerging daemons atop his mechanima which looked like a magnificent steed with navy blue metal plates that matched his suit.

    Yeah. He is going to battle in a suit. Go figure.

    I''ll show you how far this weak kid has grown, dear uncle.

    *******

    Things are going rather smoothly so far.

    I can go toe to toe against D-ranked daemons and deal significant damage to them while also avoiding major injuries to my body.

    Thanks to the omni contacts, I adeptly dodged higher-ranked foes before they even spotted me.

    I''d nudge seasoned Deathwalkers in the right direction before retreating to a safer distance.

    The sounds and sights of the battlefield have become familiar to me and I''ve become disturbingly unfazed by them.

    Like, a daemon just chopped off the limbs of a young lady in her early twenties, picked her limbless and screaming self, and twisted off her head like a plastic bottle cap in less than five seconds.

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    I winced at the sight. It was horrifying yet oddly intriguing, a morbid analogy between a human body and a plastic bottle.

    Who knew you could twist a human head in that way?

    Observing skilled Deathwalkers, I mirrored their techniques to battle the daemons, cautiously adhering to Talent Echo''s condition.

    Due to the conditions of my stigma, I decided to use the copied skills for a minute before deactivating my stigma.

    That way, I will be unable to use my skills for only a minute.

    That is exactly what I am doing right now as I face an 8-foot-tall D-ranked daemon.

    Sparks flew and blood swirled around the schattium spear as I deflected blow after blow from the huge mace held by the daemon.

    With my transcendence state, I could track each ferocious attack and withstand them with my ardor-enhanced body.

    I gritted my teeth as I realized a minute was about to end. If I continue to use these spear arts, I will be skillless for longer.

    Suddenly, the daemon shifted its body and swung the mace at my side. I quickly blocked the attack with the spear.

    This attack was way heavier than the previous ones but I endured the pain.

    I allowed the attack to launch me into the air.

    I twisted my body midair, spun the spear in my hand, and aimed at the daemon before it could do anything else.

    Blood and ardor swirled rapidly around the spear and I launched it at the sucker.

    A shockwave blew away the swirling darkness billowing from the daemon as the spear obliterated the arm holding the mace in an explosion of blood and ardor.

    The daemon staggered back as its weapon dissipated into darkness.

    Without wasting any more time I deactivated Talent Echo.

    Immediately all knowledge related to my skills vanished from my mind.

    Even my body cannot use them with muscle memory. One could say I am very vulnerable right now.

    Well. If I was a Spiker.

    As soon as my feet touched the ground I extended my arm toward the daemon and activated another of the codes Eravon gave me.

    {Haema: Blood Bolt}

    Blood-red runes appeared and spun around my arm. My blood swirled rapidly and formed a meter-long cylindrical projectile and shot toward the daemon''s heart.

    As soon as the bolt impaled the swirling chest of the daemon, it blew up in an explosion of darkness and crimson that shook the ground and splattered blood and black ooze everywhere.

    The wailing crimson smoke of the wraith came right at me but I quickly jumped a good distance away by using blood acceleration to boost my body.

    Through heavy breathing, I hunched over and tried to catch my breath.

    Blood Bolt is the strongest code I currently have and it requires an absurd amount of ardor control and quickly saps up my stamina.

    At my current strength, I can only summon one bolt to do the job but it is enough against a D-ranked daemon.

    A minute has passed and I can now use my skills. I took out my daggers and got ready for the remainder of the battle.

    So far so good. This battle is not that bad.

    I shouldn''t have said that.

    A sudden ominous chill seized me and a truly malevolent presence loomed to my right.

    By pure instinct, I jumped away from my spot just as a devastating strike obliterated the ground I was just standing on.

    The destruction was so powerful that it blew me away. I crashed through a mound of bloody snow and into a pile of dead bodies.

    My hands slipped on the blood as I picked myself up from the dismembered and mutilated corpses of Deathwalkeers.

    Seriously? Who piles up bodies during a battle?

    I shook out of my daze and looked at what crashed where I stood.

    The dust and snow cleared and what I saw turned my blood to ice.

    It was unlike any daemon I had seen so far.

    It was small for a daemon, about six feet tall but I know instinctively that this is different.

    It resembled a condensed, humanoid form, its solid, root-like body starkly different from the usual billowing darkness.

    No. To be more accurate. It is as if the billowing darkness had condensed into a solid form.

    As if the darkness of the daemons solidified into black roots that twisted and contorted into the shape of a human.

    As I watched, the creature straightened its hunched back and turned its smooth head at me.

    Like the daemons I fought, it had no eyes, no nose, no mouth, no ears. Just a blank surface of darkness swirling underneath.

    What happened next... I couldn''t even fathom.

    One second, the Deathwalkers and daemons around the creature were fighting viciously.

    The next second, the mutilated and crushed corpses of those very Deathwalkers lay in an extending sea of their blood, and multiple explosions of darkness closely followed that showed the violent deaths of the daemons.

    In my transcendent state, I only saw a blur of sharp tentacles erupting out of its body, killing both Deathwalkers and daemons.

    A sick feeling of dread knotted my stomach.

    Utter disbelief consumed me.

    In just a second, this thing killed hundreds of Deathwalkers.

    There was no warning, no struggle, not even a scream.

    Just... death.

    My heart hammered against my ribs and my breathing quickened as a primal fear crept into my very being as I gazed on the terrifying abomination standing some distance from me.

    The daemon kept its eyeless gaze on me, its exuding malevolence paralyzing me in my spot.

    The faint smell of urine wafted into my nose and a warm, wet feeling spread in my pants.

    I glanced down to see a rather big wet spot form around my crotch.

    I raised my eyes to see the creature standing before me.

    Its smooth head tilted down, its blank visage of darkness looking down on my trembling figure.

    All sound seemed to fade away, leaving only the rapid beating of my heart.

    My vision narrowed, locked on the faceless canvas of the daemon as I raised my head and looked at it.

    My Omni contacts analyzed the creature and went absolutely berserk.

    Immediately, warnings popped up in my vision. If it had an alarm system, that would''ve been blaring by now.

    <WARNING!>

    <WARNING!>

    <Abnormal daemon detected!>

    <Analyzing information>

    <Searching archives>

    <Match Found!>

    A name appeared in my vision, followed by a rank. I felt my soul leave my body as these words flashed in my hopeless eyes.

    <Code Name: Asphodel>

    <Rank: Master S>

    As the information of the daemon faded away from my vision, I bore witness to another terrifying sight that would haunt my very nightmares.

    As I watched the daemon, a fissure appeared on its blank visage, widening to form a twisted, haunting smile.

    The chilling sight petrified me.

    My vision tunneled, fixated on that damned and nightmarish smile.

 39 They Are The Weird Ones

    Two words.

    Absolute terror.

    As I stare at the horrifying smile of something more nightmarish than a grim reaper, a sudden urge grips me, a primal instinct signaling my body''s need to flee.

    I suddenly have the strong urge to poop.

    My instincts screamed at me to escape but I could not control my trembling body.

    But what is the point of running?

    I am certain that the abomination would rip my spine off the moment I turn around to flee.

    So I remained on my knees, my eyes fixated on the horrifying grin of the daemon as my mind raced for a solution to this horrifying problem.

    If I had a distraction...

    "Hey! Get out of there!", Suddenly a voice yelled from the side.

    I turned my eyes to see him.

    The handsome young man I saw in my second battle, the one who questioned my presence among Deathwalkers.

    As I watched, he pointed his sword at the daemon, "What kind of an abomination are you?"

    He began to channel ardor into his body and released his aura.

    I tried to warn him but my voice failed me.

    So I raised my hand to signal him to stop only to realize that my right arm was gone.

    I blinked as I stared at the stump that was bleeding profusely.

    Huh? My arm was just attached a few seconds ago. It was as if it disappeared when I raised it to warn the young man.

    My mind was reeling from what just happened when my eyes turned to the daemon named Asphodel and they widened in disbelief.

    It looked at me with its chilling smile as it held something in its hand.

    My forearm. Severed from the elbow and still dripping with blood.

    All sounds faded away again, even my rapidly beating heart as an insurmountable feeling of dread descended on me as I stared at the horrifying smile of the creature.

    Asphodel raised a finger and wagged it at me.

    At the corner of my eyes, I saw the young man rushing at the daemon, ignorant of the true horror of the daemon he was facing.

    Again. It all happened too quickly.

    In my transcendent state, I saw the daemon extend its left hand at the approaching newbie without even a glance in his direction.

    It was slower than when it killed all of the other Deathwalkers and daemons.

    It was as if it wanted me to witness what it would do.

    Immediately, the roots of solid darkness that made up its arm unfurled into tentacle-like appendages and shot toward the newbie.

    Before he could even react, the black appendages swiftly reached him, shattered his sword, and entangled him in their deadly embrace.

    Before he could utter a word of surprise, he disappeared under the writhing and twisting appendages of darkness.

    Then the writhing bundle of dark appendages compressed to the size of a tennis ball.

    A single agonized scream escaped for a second before he was crushed into a bloody spray.

    The daemon turned its head to watch its gruesome work.

    And that''s when I seized my chance.

    I quickly healed my severed arm and channeled ardor into my legs.

    I accelerated my blood and jumped away as hard as I could. I must get away as far as I can from this abomination.

    But when do things ever go according to my plans?

    As soon as I jumped away, I couldn''t feel my legs.

    I immediately crashed into the snow and an excruciating pain exploded from my legs.

    I glanced down and I quickly realized why I couldn''t feel my legs.

    That''s because I didn''t have legs. They were severed from the knees down.

    Tears streamed down my face and I screamed out in agony.

    With my body trembling from the horrifying pain I saw my legs lying only a foot away from where I was kneeling in front of the daemon.

    My eyes went to Asphodel, whose head is now turned toward me and it''s creepy as fuck smile petrifying my very soul.

    Its arm was back to normal, now slick with the blood of the young Deathwalker and it walked to me.

    No teleporting in front of me, no mind-numbing speed. Just walking, like a predator approaching its cornered prey.

    Using my remaining limb, my arm I slowly and painfully dragged myself away from the approaching daemon.

    It made no move to stop me.

    It didn''t have to.

    The only place I can go to is another pile of Deathwalker bodies. The sounds of battle had become faint now.

    Does that mean I am the only one alive in this area of the battlefield?

    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    Shit.

    A trail of my blood smeared a new shade of crimson on the snow as I dragged my almost dismembered body to the pile of dead Deathwalkers.

    With a painful grimace, I leaned my back against the cold and bloodied remains of humans and glanced at the daemon.

    Numerous warnings filled my vision as my Omni contacts took in the terrifying sight of the abnormal daemon ready to eviscerate me.

    I took deep shaky breaths to calm myself down and it worked to a degree.

    The primal fear lingered but now I can focus on the imminent threat to my very short life.

    I am unable to move anywhere right now but I can use my strand.

    Perhaps I can summon a pair of tentacles to hold off the daemon?

    But what is the point?

    The thing taking its sweet time approaching me is an S-ranked abomination.

    It would kill me before my tentacles would even reach it.

    I gritted my teeth in frustration.

    Why now? I was so close to being a full-fledged Deathwalker and this fucker had to appear!

    I immediately calmed myself down. No point in throwing a tantrum when I am about to die.

    I looked at the smiling face of the daemon and strengthened my resolve.

    I extended my remaining arm at the daemon and activated Haema.

    With my current strength, I can only use the code once a day and I already used it.

    Using it a second time would put an immense strain on my body as the ardor control is huge.

    Yeah. Fuck it.

    I am going to die anyway so might as well go out with some bloodspray and a bang.

    {Haema: Blood Bolt}

    Blood-red runes snaked around my arm and glowed as I activated the code.

    This time, I channeled my entire strand into the bolt and concentrated it, making it more powerful.

    My wounds began to bleed profusely and blood flowed from my eyes, nose, and mouth as I concentrated the power of the bolt as it formed from my swirling blood.

    In a flash of crimson, a two-meter-long projectile of swirling blood took form in front of me and glowed with the power of Haema.

    My body trembled and I felt my pain fading as my life loosened its grip on me.

    I wonder what would happen if I die this time. Will I go to hell or will Eravon interfere again?

    I locked my eyes on the Asphodel which stopped right in its tracks and tilted its head, as if intrigued by the blood bolt I created.

    My lips curled into a smirk as I got ready to release the bolt on the daemon.

    "Try smiling after this!"

    Just as I was about to release the high-powered bolt, a powerful presence descended on me.

    My focus wavered for a bit but that was enough.

    Since Blood Bolt was a code that required accurate ardor control and focus, the blood projectile rippled and dissipated in a spray of blood and crimson.

    I doubled over as a wrenching pain tore through my chest and I coughed out blood.

    My vision began to blur and blacken at the edges.

    What the heck was that?

    As I sat there, retching and coughing out blood, a shadow fell upon me.

    I raised my eyes and was quite surprised by what I saw.

    I saw the back of a man standing tall between me and the daemon.

    His salt and pepper hair swayed in the frigid wind of the mountains and snowflakes settled on the fine fabric of his navy blue suit.

    "Commander?", I blurted out, looking at Sir Kay taking out his sword, a silver double-sided blade with sky-blue edges.

    Intricate runes on the sleek metal glowed a faint blue as if the weapon was stirring from a deep slumber.

    The air hummed as I saw ardor particles swirling around the blade and goosebumps rose on my skin as Kay relaxed his grip on the sword.

    A burst of wind swept away the snow off the ground as the tip of the blade rested above the bloody ground.

    He looked back at me, his blue eyes glowing with power as he looked at my broken form.

    My eyes may be playing tricks on my mind because I saw his expression soften upon seeing my face.

    "You did well, Mordred. Now rest."

    As soon as those words laden with power fell on my ears, my blurry vision turned black and I felt my body going limp.

    I fell to my side and everything went black.

    Just before I lost consciousness, I heard Kay address the abnormal daemon.

    "How many times has it been, Asphodel?"

    *******

    "It must''ve been quite harrowing."

    Eravon remarked as he plucked a succulent-looking apple and tossed it to me.

    I caught it and inspected the fruit. This time we were in a vast apple orchard that seemed to stretch on forever.

    I frowned, "I don''t recall ever visiting an apple orchard in my past."

    Eravon turned his blue eyes on me, "This world mirrors your dreams and wishes along with your memories. Have you ever dreamed of visiting an apple orchard?"

    I stared at the apple for a moment and recalled a conversation I had with Tristan in my old world.

    "If you can go anywhere in the world, where would you like to go first?", Tristan asked me when we were relaxing under a tree after a training session.

    I remember swaying my head, thinking about the many places I wanted to go.

    "An apple orchard that seems endless.", was my answer.

    I smiled at the memory of both of us having a hearty laughter after realizing how weird that sounded.

    A sigh escaped my lips.

    Ah. Those were the good old days.

    I looked at Eravon and nodded, "Yeah. I did. It was such a weird wish though."

    "I think it''s quite reasonable. Who doesn''t love an amazing apple orchard filled with rich and juicy apples?", Eravon plucked another apple and jumped off the ladder.

    He landed gracefully and walked over to me, "So. You had the misfortune to run into an abnormal daemon."

    I grimaced as the disturbing smile of Asphodel flashed into my mind.

    "What in the name of the Incarni was that abominable spawn of the devil?"

    Eravon looked rather impressed by my question, "That was quite an accurate description, my friend."

    He tossed the apple up and down on his palm like a ball, "Abnormal daemons are quite different from your standard daemon."

    He gave me a sheepish shrug, "Hence the term ''Abnormal''."

    I just stared at him, "Oh. I''m enlightened."

    Eravon grimaced, "Anyway. The usual daemon, no matter how strong they are is doing a single thing. Kill brutally and efficiently. It is as if they follow a specific set of rules."

    "You saw how organized they were, right? How each daemon match the other''s movements when they emerged from the Tear?"

    I nodded, "True. That was creepy as hell."

    He continued, "Daemons don''t take prisoners, they don''t take their sweet time providing a slow agonizing death. They just kill. Each strike is unleashed to kill and each action is to deal maximum pain in a short time."

    "The only reason Deathwalkers get grievously injured is because they react and try to avoid the killing blow."

    I scoffed, "Obviously. We''re not going to die just because a daemon wished for it."

    Eravon nodded in agreement, "What I meant to say is this. Daemons kill and are brutally efficient in that. It''s like they are programmed to just kill."

    I took a bite out of my apple and enjoyed the rich taste and juicy texture like I just didn''t hear the words ''brutal'' and ''kill'' a minute ago.

    "And Abnormals?"

    Eravon sighed.

    "You can say that they are the weird ones."

 40 Weirdo

    I stared at Eravon.

    "Weird ones. Yeah. I realized that. Painfully," was my response.

    Eravon gave me a sympathetic smile, "I am sorry for the suffering you experienced."

    Oh yeah. This guy is why I am in this world and this current situation.

    I should be quite mad at him but I can''t muster the animosity against him.

    He has a certain air to him that doesn''t elicit hatred or any sort of animosity, only an eternal melancholy from a man cursed to live forever.

    Even expressing hatred toward him seems futile; he might have experienced all kinds of suffering in his long life.

    And even if I found a way to kill him, he would welcome Death like an old friend.

    You just can''t hate this guy.

    "So. Any ideas about Abnormals?", I inquired.

    Eravon shrugged, "Not a lot. If you need more info, I believe Minerva keeps a record of Abnormals in her database or you could browse through the library."

    "I mentioned a certain unwritten rule that daemons follow. Abnormals chuck those rules out of the bloody window."

    "They are wilder, more vicious, insanely sadistic, and more disorganized than monkeys in a supermarket," he continued.

    "They unleash huge devastation and decimate everything before them. Friend or foe, it doesn''t matter to them."

    He made a face, "They even look different from your standard daemon. Most are humanoid and are more solid than their monotonous cousins."

    "Some even look like they crawled out of a Lovecraftian novel," Eravon stated with a shudder.

    I just stared at him in utter confusion, "A what?"

    "Nightmare fuel. But they are entertaining."

    He bit into his apple and looked at me, "The one you encountered on the battlefield, Asphodel, is the strongest Abnormal ever seen in Blood Valley."

    "That creepy smiling sucker is such a menace," he grumbled.

    "He appears suddenly on a random fine day and wreaks absolute carnage, wiping out whole units along with daemons."

    "Huh. I guess today was one of those random days," I mused.

    "Your misfortune is just amazing," Eravon remarked.

    "Anyway. The only person in the Shield who can defeat him is Sir Kay, your uncle," he stated.

    I scoffed, "If the commander is capable of destroying Asphodel, why is that catastrophe still kicking around?"

    "That''s the thing!", Eravon snapped his fingers and walked over to the next tree with the ladder.

    "Whenever Sir Kay faces Asphodel in battle, the Abnormal would turn tail and run mid-battle."

    "It would cleverly find a way to escape the attacks of your uncle and flee, only to return after a few months to cause more havoc and face Sir Kay, and repeat."

    He shook his head, "Sometimes I wonder if that Abnormal is a masochist because even after it suffers major injuries, it still returns to face Kay."

    "What a weirdo," I said.

    Eravon plucked two more succulent apples that looked better than the one I just had.

    He jumped off the ladder and gave me one of the apples.

    "Anyway. Congrats on surviving your seventh battle. I will be the first to congratulate you."

    I smiled, and a feeling of achievement welled up in my chest. I reached out and accepted the apple.

    Except it wasn''t an apple now, but a clear flute glass of a sparkling golden drink.

    "This is...", I brought the glass to my nose and took in the aroma. It smelled of apples but concentrated.

    "The finest apple wine ever made," Eravon said, holding a similar glass of the golden-colored beverage.

    He raised the glass, "To you, Sir Mordred."

    We clinked our glasses and drank.

    I was mindblown by the taste. It was the most exquisite wine that had ever blessed my tongue.

    "This is amazing!", I exclaimed.

    Eravon observed his empty glass with a calm smile and chuckled, "No wonder Seventeen is obsessed with this."

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    I caught the name uttered by him, "Who?"

    "A friend of mine. He is quite addicted to apple wine even though he doesn''t have a stomach."

    I was getting more confused, "What?"

    "He''s an interesting fellow. I would be delighted to introduce you to him," Eravon replied.

    "Okay?", I glanced back at the glass, not quite getting what the warlock was talking about.

    "I must thank you. If it weren''t for the codes and ardor control methods you taught me, I would be a dead kid by now," I said.

    Eravon smiled, "I''m glad my teachings have helped you greatly."

    He threw his glass in the air and it disappeared into sparkling particles. The glass in my hand disappeared in the same way.

    "So. We have some time left before you wake up. You up for some mental training?"

    I grinned and nodded, "I was about to ask."

    *******

    My eyes flickered open and I eased myself upright with a groan.

    Weirdly enough, the lights were not as bright as the last time I woke up in the general ward.

    Did someone finally lower the intensity?

    I could feel super soft sheets touching my legs and rubbed my eyes with both my hands.

    Thank the Incarni! They were able to reattach my lost limbs.

    I was worried that it would be very difficult considering the intensive damage dealt to my body by the Abnormal.

    And it feels so quiet as if I am the only one in the ward.

    Huh? Wait.

    I shook the sleep and fatigue from my eyes and looked at my surroundings.

    "This is new."

    I found myself in a comfortable room with soft lights and cozy furniture.

    Even the medical bed I was on was more advanced than the ones in the general ward.

    "A private room in Althea? How?", I mused aloud.

    Althea rarely allocated private rooms, usually reserved for high-ranking Deathwalkers or unique cases like Iris Karsus.

    These rooms came at a high cost and were seldom occupied due to the rapid healing in the general wards.

    So most Deathwalkers prefer to stay in the general wards. Plus the beds are free.

    But if one wishes to stay in a private room, one should pay and the quality of the rooms depends on the number of draigos spent.

    And judging by how my room looked, it must cost a lot.

    I frowned. Could it be because I am a High Prince?

    So why, after three weeks of being treated like a disposable soldier, was I now enjoying this luxury?

    Weird. Very weird.

    While pondering this, the door opened, and a familiar cyan-haired young man entered with his signature infectious smile.

    "You''re awake!", Felix beamed and walked over to me while carrying a fruit basket.

    I smiled, "Good to see you, man."

    "I almost spilled coffee on my pants when I heard you encountered Asphodel," He set the fruit basket down beside me and drew a chair.

    "Yeah. It was nasty. Lost an arm and both legs", I recounted with a nod.

    Felix winced, "Ouch! But it''s great you got fixed up. The commander himself made sure you got the best treatment and a comfortable private room."

    "The commander did?", I raised a brow, taken aback.

    "Did Asphodel whack him in the head or something?", I asked with concern.

    I mean, why would Kay even bother to help me out?

    Felix looked offended, "Heck no! Asphodel put up a tough fight but that thing didn''t do any serious damage to the commander."

    He grinned, "I bet he was surprised that you survived this far in Blood Valley. You exceeded his expectations. Frankly, I think he was even impressed."

    I scoffed at the notion of Kay being impressed by me, the failure of the Pendragons.

    But then again, his words on the battlefield echoed from the depths of my memories.

    "You did well, Mordred."

    Was he genuinely impressed back then? Was he secretly proud of me for reaching this far?

    He was the one who introduced Mordred to the art of the blade after all.

    I shook my head. That''s a thought for later.

    There''s something else I need to know.

    "Asphodel. What happened to it?", I asked Felix, recalling the fear and despair I felt when faced with that overpowered abomination.

    The scene of absolute carnage and the death of the young man was seared into my mind.

    Felix''s smile faded and his expression darkened "Asphodel fled after clashing briefly with the commander."

    "Unfortunately, instead of going back to the Tear, it went straight up the mountain on the left of the valley."

    I was surprised, "It was able to climb up the valley?"

    Felix nodded grimly, "Yep. Asphodel could cause devastation in the nearby villages and the local ecosystem."

    "It could even rile the powerful ardimals that rule Les Anciennes and cause a hell of a lot of trouble."

    "So the commander is leading a hunting party to hunt Asphodel down," he explained.

    He picked up a pear from the fruit basket and began to slice it with a knife that came out of nowhere.

    "That Abnormal is a slippery customer. If it is not possible to kill it, the commander aims to chase it back into the Tear," he said.

    "Needless to say, it is going to be the most dangerous hunt ever undertaken in the Shield. He is rounding up the best hunters and trackers along with a few powerhouses."

    "The entire facility is on high alert, with Minerva scanning the surrounding mountains trying to track the slimy bastard."

    Felix chuckled, "It''s getting quite heated up in Necropolis."

    He handed me a slice of the pear.

    "But you don''t need to be worried. The commander and his elite squad of hunters will take care of it."

    "You just rest now," His smile returned.

    I looked at Felix. I can feel something troubling him but he is hiding it quite well behind his bright smile.

    Even if I asked him, he would not give me an answer.

    Very well, my friend. I will not prod further.

    I smiled and accepted the slice from him.

    "Whatever you say, boss."

 41 We Had A Deal!

    It wasn''t long before Damien arrived with a cake.

    I raised my eyes upon seeing the confectionary on the Deathwalker''s hands, "What is that for?"

    The brown-eyed young man shrugged, "Don''t look at me. It was Felix''s idea."

    I turned to Felix who wore a sheepish smile.

    "Well, surviving seven battles and becoming a full-fledged Deathwalker seemed like a good reason for a celebration," he admitted.

    Damien scoffed, "You just wanted an excuse to eat cake, Felix."

    Felix looked offended, "Now why would I do that?"

    I chuckled, "Sounds definitely like you."

    "Not you too, Mordred!"

    *******

    The three of us had a good time.

    As conversation flowed, the cake and fruits disappeared, mostly devoured by me.

    After all, I was famished!

    Time passed as we talked, joked, and even played cards that Felix had brought.

    After a long time, Felix stood up from his chair, "My! That was so fun!."

    He gave an awkward smile, "I believe it''s time for me to leave."

    I noticed his troubled expression cleverly hidden beneath his smile and frowned, "You have a battle scheduled?"

    He was slightly surprised by my question but shook his head, "Nah. I''m going hunting with a few buddies of mine."

    I felt a sense of unease when he mentioned a hunt. Surely it can''t be...

    "What are you hunting?", I inquired.

    "A Glacial Hornbear," Felix replied without a pause, "They are quite common in Les Anciennes and are powerful ardimals, with the strongest one being master B rank."

    "They are apex predators that are quite aggressive and are known to attack on sight."

    "So we hunt them down to keep the population in check. You don''t want to tango with a Pookie Bear,", he explained.

    "A what?", I blinked, wondering if I heard wrong.

    "A Pookie Bear," Damien chimed in with a straight face as he got up as well, "That''s the nickname we use to call them. Despite their aggressive nature, they look very cute and huggable."

    He shrugged, "Hug one of those, and it''s likely your last embrace on Asteris. One moment, you''re thinking cuddly, next thing you know, you''re a fine meal for a very hungry Pookie Bear."

    "I see that Deathwalkers are rather creative with their names," I remarked.

    "Yes, we are!", Felix exclaimed proudly. His troubled expression from earlier seemed to have faded, replaced by a proud smile.

    I couldn''t help but chuckle. This guy is such a mood!

    But I sensed there was more beneath the surface.

    There was no way Felix was genuinely troubled by an aggressive bear with a cute nickname.

    Damien seemed to know something too, the way he swiftly redirected the conversation to Pookie Bears.

    "Very well. All the best in your hunt. Just be safe," I told Felix.

    I believe in him. No matter what happens, he will find a way.

    He grinned, "I''ll be fine, Mordred. Besides, the meat of a Pookie Bear is a delicacy. You''ll love it!"

    "I''ll look forward to it," I replied as he turned around and opened the door to leave.

    "Oh yeah! Congrats Mordred. I knew you could do it!", He glanced back with a smile before closing the door.

    I smiled back, "See you soon, Felix."

    Felix waved at me as he walked away. I saw Damien looking at the retreating Deathwalker with concern.

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    "Why do you look so worried?", I asked.

    Damien shrugged, "I''ve never seen him look that troubled before. It''s strange. He is a master at hunting Pookie Bears."

    "Please, Damien. Don''t say Pookie Bears with that expression. I can''t help but laugh," I said, stifling a laugh.

    Damien grinned, "Heh. It is a funny name."

    "Anyway. I''ll be off. You need to take more rest," he packed the rest of the cake in a box, waved goodbye, and stepped outside my room.

    I waved back and he closed the door, leaving me alone with an empty fruit basket and an uneasy feeling that refused to go away.

    I sighed and crashed back into my bed, thinking about everything that happened so far.

    I couldn''t help but smile. I survived seven consecutive battles against the daemons. It was a grueling and painful journey but I did it.

    Speaking of seven battles, Felix promised me that he would tell me his past if I survived seven battles.

    I forgot to ask him!

    I gritted my teeth and smacked my forehead.

    Oh Incarni! I forgot! And I was curious as hell!

    I lay there pouting for a few minutes before letting out a sigh.

    "I guess I''ll ask him when he returns," I murmured and drifted off to sleep.

    But the feeling of unease didn''t fade away.

    *******

    I had a good sleep.

    No nightmares for the first time since stepping foot into the Shield.

    It felt odd.

    I gently opened my eyes and sat up.

    I rubbed the sleep off my eyes and looked out the window.

    It was nighttime outside and the perpetual snowfall gently touched the glass.

    I stretched on my bed and glanced at my bracelet to know the time.

    "Whoa. Now that was long slumber," I remarked. I slept for two days straight and that too without any nightmares.

    What kind of weird fortune is that?

    But I''m thankful for the extra snooze time. I feel well rested and my body is now fully healed.

    "Felix must be done with his hunt by now," I said and proceeded to get dressed.

    I donned my mended and good-as-new uniform and admired myself in the mirror for five minutes.

    Damn. This body is such a fine specimen of beauty.

    As I did some fashionable poses in front of the mirror, I heard the door open behind me.

    "Hey, Felix! I was out for two days. How did the hunt go?", I asked before turning around and froze.

    Felix wasn''t the one who opened the door.

    The uneasiness from two days ago rushed back as Damien loomed in the doorway, his usual casual demeanor replaced by a grim and somber expression that erased any hint of his usual aloofness.

    "Damien," I greeted him.

    "Where''s Felix? Don''t tell me he got caught by the cuteness of a Pookie Bear and is now in a general ward," I chuckled nervously

    Damien didn''t respond with his usual humor and looked at me with a heavy gaze

    "Are you able to walk?", he asked without his usual wit.

    I didn''t know what to say and just nodded.

    "Very well then," he said and turned around, "Follow me."

    *******

    Cold.

    That was my first thought mind when I entered the room.

    It was bare, white walls with bright light panels embedded in the pristine white ceiling.

    A sterile smell wafted into my nose and made my skin crawl. The walk from my room to this place was...

    Dreadful.

    I could only remember seeing Damien''s back as we walked the corridors of Althea, everything just faded into the background as my uneasiness grew with each step.

    The only feature in this white room was a long table.

    And on the table was...

    "No. It can''t be," I staggered over to the table and lifted the sheet.

    His cyan hair was perfectly combed and he wore a brand new Deathwalker uniform.

    His eyes were closed and there was a perpetual calm on his face, as if he was asleep with a pleasant dream.

    "What happened?", the question quivered on my lips as I gazed at the face of Felix Valion, frozen in the absolute stillness of death.

    I turned my gaze to Damien who looked back at me with eyes devoid of any light.

    "Felix wasn''t hunting a Glacial Hornbear. He was hunting Asphodel."

    His words pierced me like an ice-cold dagger to the heart.

    "Asphodel?", my mind reeled from the memories of my harrowing encounter

    "You mean he was part of the Commander''s hunting party?"

    Damien gave a grim nod, "Felix was one of the best trackers in the Shield. With his stigma, he was able to have a different and better vantage point. So the Commander chose him for the hunting party."

    "It took an entire day of searching but he finally found the Abnormal."

    "And Asphodel got him," I interrupted. My hands shook and tears welled up in my eyes.

    What was Kay even thinking? Felix was a B-ranker. Why choose him to hunt down an S-ranked abomination of a monster?

    "Felix wasn''t supposed to be hit," Damien''s voice interrupted my thoughts.

    "What?", I stared at him.

    "One of the Spikers lost his footing, faltering at the worst possible moment while facing Asphodel. The Abnormal took its chance and went for the kill."

    Damien looked away, his entire body trembled and his voice cracked when he spoke the next words.

    "Felix pushed him out of harm''s way, taking the fatal blow."

    "But due to his sacrifice, the Commander was able to drive Asphodel back into the Tear."

    "The commander himself rushed Felix to a healer and they did everything they could. But it was too late."

    The icy dagger twisted deeper into my heart with every word that came out of his mouth.

    My breath turned shallow and rapid.

    With my body trembling all over, I turned around and clenched my fists.

    "Why?" My voice cracked as I clutched Felix''s lifeless form. "Why did you risk it?"

    Silence echoed, and the void within me grew more profound.

    "WHY?", I grabbed the body by the collar and screamed, grief turned into rage and tears spilled out of my eyes.

    "WHY DID YOU DO THAT? YOU IDIOT!", Felix''s head lolled side to side as I shook the cold corpse of the first friend I ever had in this world.

    "ANSWER ME FELIX! WHY? YOU SAID YOU''LL BE SAFE! WHY DID YOU LIE?"

    "YOU PROMISED TO TELL ME YOUR PAST! WE HAD A DEAL, YOU BASTARD!"

    "HOW COULD YOU DIE! YOU''RE ONE OF THE STRONGEST GUYS HERE! HOW COULD YOU LEAVE ME?!"

    "WHAT ABOUT JASPER? WHAT ABOUT YOUR LIFE?!"

    "ANSWER ME, FELIX!"

    My screams echoed all over the room and into the corridor as raw grief and anger cascaded out of me like a raging flood of sorrow.

    Damien intervened, wrestling to pull me away.

    "Stop, Mordred! Let him go!"

    But my grip was like iron.

    I turned to his anguished face and saw the reflection of my crazed and grief-stricken self in his hollow eyes.

    "Damien! How could he?!", my voice cracked when I spoke to him.

    The Deathwalker gritted his teeth and held my arm in an iron grip.

    "Let him GO!", Damien yanked my hands off the collar and the force threw me into the wall with a resounding thud.

    I sank to the floor into a broken heap, my tears falling like the heavy snowfall that fell on the cold peak of the Tomb.

 42 Having The Strong Urge To Punch A Timeless Beauty

    "I''ve met him in my second battle."

    Damien reminisced, his voice soft as he straightened Felix''s collar.

    Felix''s Deathwalker uniform was disheveled from my outburst. Damien carefully adjusted it, his hands steady with practiced precision.

    "He nearly shot me in the face by accident," he turned around, a sad smile on his lips, "I guess that was the beginning of the best friendship I had ever experienced."

    "But I guess everything has its end."

    Damien looked weary, carrying the weight of loss from countless fallen comrades.

    "I guess that''s why he told me not to get too attached to people in the Shield.", I said in a hollow voice.

    "You never know who you will mourn in the next hour."

    There was a profound silence between us as we wallowed in a shared feeling of loss and grief.

    "What will happen to him?", I asked quietly as I leaned against the cold wall, my voice strained from the earlier screaming.

    "There are two options."

    Damien answered, meeting my gaze.

    "The first is to lay him to rest in the Tomb with the other Deathwalkers. The other is to send his body to his family."

    "Unfortunately his whole family is dead. Felix was the last Valion."

    My brow furrowed, "There is Jasper. His fiancee."

    Damien nodded, "I had thought about but I''m uncertain."

    "Why?"

    "Jasper truly loves Felix and is waiting for his return from the Shield. I fear telling her of his passing will only cause more pain," Damien replied with a heavy heart.

    I stared at him, contemplating his words.

    "Damien. She deserves to know. What would happen if she knew her love would never return after waiting for four years?", I replied.

    "It will be better if we send the body to her. She would give him a proper farewell and be at peace."

    "Isn''t that better than getting devastated after learning that your love died two years ago?", I explained, almost choking on my words.

    My words lingered between us, and I rose from the floor.

    My eyes fell on Felix''s still form on the table, "What about his Unit? Will they visit to pay their respects?"

    The brown-eyed Deathwalker nodded, "Of course. They are on their way."

    I nodded my head and closed my eyes, "Very well. I will take my leave."

    Damien was surprised by my words, "You''re leaving early?"

    I nodded, "You and his Unit knew him longer than I did. So I have no place in this mourning."

    "But please make sure that he is sent to Jasper instead of being sealed in the Tomb," I requested.

    Damien began to protest against my leaving but I stopped him, "It is better this way."

    I approached the table and looked at the peaceful face of Felix. Emotions surged within me but I held back with effort.

    "Goodbye Felix. Thank you for everything."

    I nodded to Damien and left the room.

    I didn''t look back.

    Despite my rest, exhaustion weighed heavily, not in body but in spirit.

    I didn''t take notice of the things that happened around me. It was as if the world around me had gone silent.

    It was as if the sounds of everything died along with Felix.

    The thought of not hearing his cheerful voice was heart-wrenching.

    I''ve only known him for a month and this is the pain I am feeling. I couldn''t fathom Jasper''s agony upon learning of his death.

    Was sending him to her the right choice?

    Doubts began to claw at me from inside.

    Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

    Soon I found myself on the fifth floor, standing before an empty simulation room.

    I used my bracelet to enter the modestly sized form with a big simulation pod in the middle.

    The simulation pods of the Shield are the most advanced in the world.

    They transfer the user''s consciousness into a virtual world from many different options and generate enemies to fight based on the user''s preferences.

    Minerva analyzes the user''s skills and strands to replicate them in the virtual world perfectly.

    Users can even set things in such a way that their strand or skill usage can be restricted so that they can give themselves a handicap and make the battle more difficult.

    In such a way, they can improve without completely relying on their strands.

    The pod also monitors the user''s vitals and ejects them if things go terribly wrong.

    I pressed a button on the smooth surface of the pod and its top slid off.

    Taking off my boots, I entered the simulation pod and lay on the soft cushioned bed inside.

    After I lay snugly, the top of the pod slid over me, and soon the glossy white interior of the pod softly illuminated by small lights surrounded me.

    Yep. Definitely not feeling claustrophobic in here.

    I relaxed my body, suppressing my emotions, and activated the simulation.

    I closed my eyes and spoke the words for activation.

    "Begin Link."

    Immediately the darkness under my eyelids turned into utter brightness.

    My eyes!

    Incarni! I hate it when that happens!

    Minerva should install a sort of dark mode for the simulation pods!

    I slowly opened my eyes and found myself in a vast white space enveloped by an enormous silence.

    "Greetings, Your Highness. We meet again," a female voice softer than silk but colder than the glaciers in Les Anciennes spoke in front of me.

    A person materialized before me like a ghost.

    It was a young woman in her late teens who had to be among the most beautiful people I had ever seen.

    Myself included at the top spot.

    Her long flowing hair was the color of pure snow and transitioned to a light blue which vividly reflected the cold blue of her eyes and her fair skin was flawless like porcelain.

    She wore a simple white dress that accentuated her slender figure.

    It is as if she is a living doll, a fact emphasized by her blank and cold expression that never shifted.

    Like a doll.

    Oh, and she is taller than me and has an uncanny resemblance to Merlin.

    It is as if I am looking at an older and bluer sibling of the damned witch.

    My jaw tightened and I fought the urge to punch this timeless beauty in her pretty face.

    "Lower the brightness next time when the simulation starts. Almost got my eyes fried," I grumbled.

    A small smirk broke the frozen doll expression on the young woman''s face.

    "I''ll be sure to keep that in mind," Minerva, or technically her human avatar replied with a tilt of her head.

    "You look...broken. What happened?", she asked with a curious glint in her icy blue eyes.

    "You already know the answer. Don''t act like you don''t know," I growled.

    "Quite strung up, are we?", Minerva tilted her head with a small smile.

    "Felix was an amazing Deathwalker. His death was such a blow."

    I glared at her, "You were the one who sent him to hunt Asphodel."

    Minerva shook her head, "I merely created a list of the best candidates and gave it to Kay. It was he who chose Felix."

    "But you did put him on the list," I pointed out in an accusatory tone.

    "Yout Highness. My responsibility is to prevent the daemons from getting out into the world and letting them cause untold devastation."

    Her icy gaze hardened, "I will do whatever it takes to make sure of that. Even if it means sending thousands to their deaths every single day."

    "So Felix''s death does not affect me at all. But you, you are Deathwalker, your Highness. You will lose the ones you cherish in here. So deal with it."

    Her remorseless words but deeply like a sharp knife.

    "Heh. Of course, you wouldn''t be affected," a soft chuckle escaped my lips, "You are an AI, after all, a machine. So of course you wouldn''t have human emotions."

    Minerva didn''t react to my jab but I sensed a small shift in her demeanor.

    "Anyway," I changed the topic, "Set Blood Valley as my world, harsh conditions."

    Minerva''s expression immediately turned into her usual blank, "Very well. And your enemies?"

    "Daemons and make their strength true to life."

    I pondered for a minute before adding, "And include Asphodel as well. Same strength as the real one."

    Minerva raised her eyebrows, "Are you sure?"

    "You do have enough information about the Abnormal, do you?", I asked back.

    She nodded, "Of course."

    "Then do it."

    Minerva closed her eyes and nodded, "Very well. The environment is Blood Valley and enemies are daemons including Asphodel."

    She looked at me and asked one last question, "Immersion?"

    I gave her a determined look, "A hundred percent."

    "Very well. Your world is loading."

    Minerva tilted her head and gave me a small smile colder than her eyes, "Good luck, Your Highness."

    With those words, she disappeared before me and the vast white space shifted into a familiar landscape.

    The dark and cold sides of the two mountains towered on either side of the cold valley.

    Snow fell softly on the crimson ground and a cold wind whipped my hair.

    I looked ahead and before me like a giant eye of swirling darkness, stood the Tear.

    Its imposing appearance sent a shiver up my spine.

    A perpetual chill washed over me as the darkness of the Tear rippled and the first row of daemons stepped into the blood-soaked snow of this virtual Blood Valley.

    A huge surge of ardor ripped out of the Tear and I saw a black streak coming right at me from the bleak sky.

    In less than a second, the ground before me exploded, and a mini avalanche of crimson snow followed by a powerful shockwave of ardor almost blew off my feet.

    But I stood my ground and brushed away the bloodied snow.

    My eyes went up to the six-foot humanoid made of smooth black roots of darkness.

    Its bald head tilted down and a nightmarish smile split its blank faceless visage.

    Waves of different emotions washed over me as I gazed at Asphodel.

    The absolute terror and despair when I first gazed upon this nightmarish being

    The shame of losing myself in front of this thing.

    The grief and anguish of losing a dear friend by this creature''s twisted hands.

    And finally, an uncontrollable white-hot rage over everything that happened and the unfairness of it all threatened to spill out like a formidable flood.

    I gritted my teeth and my daggers materialized in my hands.

    In this world, death is not permanent. Even if I die in this world, my real body will not be affected and I will respawn.

    I don''t care how many times I die.

    "I will kill you.", I declared with a burning gaze on Asphodel and rushed forward with a burst of ardor.

    Only for the world to spin around in the next second.

    I heard a soft thud and felt the cold and wet touch of the bloody snow on my cheek.

    My eyes wandered over to the headless body kneeling before the smiling Asphodel.

    My body.

    Then everything faded to dark.

    There was a beep and these words appeared in the darkness.

    <You Have Died>

 43 Venting

    <You Died>

    "Damnit!", I yelled out in frustration after dying for the umpteenth time.

    Approaching Asphodel in this virtual battlefield seemed impossible.

    As soon as I finish taking out a daemon of my caliber, the rooty son of a bitch would appear and delete my right to breath in a single motion.

    I entered this virtual world to take out all my pent-up feelings on the enemies spawned but I am the one getting slaughtered here.

    Perhaps I shouldn''t have provoked Minerva.

    "Geez. How petty can an AI be?", I muttered as I sat on the bloody ground.

    Immediately a shadow loomed over me and I turned my head to see Asphodel''s grinning face.

    "Ah shi-"

    <You have died>

    "That''s enough," I declared and the enemies around me froze in place. Everything dissolved, returning me to the vast white space.

    "Oh? You were full of bravado some time ago," Minerva materialized before me with a smug smile on her captivating face.

    I narrowed my eyes, "I wanted to see how I would fare against Asphodel with my current abilities."

    "And also to vent off some of those pent-up emotions," Minerva added with raised eyebrows.

    My eye twitched upon hearing her infuriating tone, "I realized that I am not even close to facing Asphodel."

    The AI rolled her eyes, "Duh. Took you a hundred deaths to figure that one out."

    Ignoring her snide comments I spoke, "Remove Aphodel and adjust the daemon''s strength to mine. Make a few stronger than the rest."

    Another idea popped up in my head, "Oh. And cancel the explosive deaths of the daemons. You can do that right?"

    Minerva looked concerned, "Yeah? What are you planning?"

    "A blood bath," I stated flatly.

    "Ah. Venting," Minerva realized what I was going to do. She nodded, "Very well. I will adjust the settings to your preference."

    Her lips curled into an amused smile, "This is going to be interesting."

    She dissipated and I found myself back in the virtual reconstruction of Blood Valley and the sickening Tear.

    I readied my daggers, eyeing the daemons emerging from the Tear.

    My inner turmoil stirred fiercely as my eyes fell on the first daemon.

    I willed ardor into my legs and launched myself at the approaching army, shattering the ground beneath my feet.

    With a yell of pure fury, I jumped at the daemons, my daggers like the fangs of a wrathful serpent.

    *******

    "My. This is a first."

    Minerva remarked in a voice tinged with awe and surprise.

    The previously crimson snow beneath her feet is now completely black from the dark ooze of the daemons.

    As I watched from my high vantage point, she carefully made her way to me through the pieces of daemons dipped in their own black ooze.

    Our eyes met as she raised hers and I lowered mine.

    "So this is why you requested to remove the darkness explosion when a daemon dies."

    She remarked, her gaze falling from mine to the pile of daemon bodies I was sitting on.

    "I must say. You have quite an interesting way to vent your emotions. You went absolutely berserk, not even being concerned for yourself." she nodded at my torn left arm and a gaping hole on my side.

    "I wonder if I should reevaluate you again." she mused.

    "What is it, Minerva?", I asked and leaped off the top of the daemon pile, my boots squelched on the black ooze as I landed.

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    This virtual world is too realistic. Even I am starting to question its authenticity.

    "Your room and roommate have been allocated," Minerva promptly replied, "You are requested to move into your new accommodations quickly."

    "I prefer the room I have now," I answered back.

    "I''m afraid that is not possible. You are no longer a newbie hence, you will be transferred to the living quarters of official Deathwalkers," she explained.

    "Also," she added, "Your friend Damien is waiting for you outside your simulation room."

    I quickly turned my head to her.

    "Damien?"

    Minerva nodded, "I believe you have calmed down now. Your friend awaits."

    *******

    "Mordred."

    Damien greeted me with a small smile tinged with a lingering sadness.

    I nodded to him and immediately inquired, "Felix?"

    "On his way to Jasper," the obsidian-haired brown-eyed young man replied, "I suggested your choice to his Unit 21 and they agreed to it."

    I was surprised, "They agreed?"

    Damien nodded, "Yeah. At first, they were thinking of letting him rest in the Tomb but after I told them about your views, they decided to send his body to his fiancee so she could give him a proper burial."

    "I see," I felt relieved, "I''m glad they chose to do that. Thank you for telling them."

    Damien glanced at me and then at the simulation pod in the room.

    He raised an eyebrow, "Venting?"

    I nodded, "I needed to clear my mind."

    "Ah. Well, we all need that at times."

    He turned around, "Follow me. Let me take you to your new room."

    "What about my belongings?", I asked, following him.

    "They''ve already been moved."

    "You really don''t get any privacy here, do you?", I frowned at the thought of someone else sorting through my stuff.

    Damien chuckled, "Privacy? What''s that?"

    We walked to my new room in silence, further emphasizing the void created by Felix''s death.

    "So," I spoke up, breaking the stifling silence, "How is my roommate?"

    "Oh she''s quite the odd one but she is a good person," Damien replied as we exited the elevator.

    I whipped my head toward him, "My roommate is a girl? Is it okay for me to share a room with a girl I don''t know?"

    "Two Deathwalkers of the opposite sexes sharing a room is quite the norm in the Shield," he replied and gave me a knowing look, "And besides, I think you know this girl."

    "In fact, she requested to be your roommate."

    "Now that is worrying," My eyebrows furrowed with concern.

    We passed Deathwalkers on the way. Some stopped and offered their condolences about Felix.

    In just two years of his time in the Shield, Felix had made an impression on the people of this city of the dead.

    It hurts.

    They were even curious about me. Not only did I survive seven battles but I was also the only newbie to see Asphodel and survive.

    I am the only survivor from that day in the newbie unit.

    Some were wary of me, some congratulated me, and some even gave me hostile gazes.

    Looks like my enemies in this place haven''t decreased much. Now with Felix gone, I am on my own.

    I have to get stronger not to get devoured in Necropolis.

    After some more walking, we reached a hallway that looked different from the hundreds we walked through.

    It looked luxurious compared to the others, with a carpeted floor and the different paintings adorning the glossy walls.

    "This seems fancy," I remarked as I gazed at a painting depicting a fairy stealing a human infant from an open window. A plaque below it read.

    The Fairy Thief

    The interesting thing is that this world does contain fairies but they are rare, only a few individuals remain worldwide and they are well hidden.

    Damien stood beside me, "The more accomplished Deathwalkers like the captains, vice-captains, and others live here. You could say this is the VIP area of the Shield.

    "And one of them decided to have me as a roommate," I said, a sneaking suspicion arising within me regarding the identity of my new roommate.

    I turned to Damien, "Lead the way."

    Soon we stood in front of the many doors along the corridor. I could hear the faint sound of soothing beats behind the high-quality wooden door.

    To be honest, I am quite nervous and a bit concerned about meeting my roommate.

    If it is who I think it is...

    "Oi. You in there?", Damien asked as he knocked on the door.

    "Just enter," a familiar voice responded from beyond the door.

    He looked at me and shrugged.

    "Alright. We''re coming in," he said and opened the door.

    There, casually snuggled in a beanbag and reading a novel was Iris Karsus.

    Her black hair which transitioned to bright blue was tied in a ponytail behind her and it blended well with the ambient lighting in her room.

    Instead of her Deathwalker uniform, she was clad in a sports bra and shorts that accentuated her slim and well-built body.

    Her alluring figure quite took me aback.

    Unfazed by the attention, she glanced at Damien and waved at him, "Hey Damien. How are you doing?"

    Her piercing blue eyes turned to me.

    "Ah. We meet again, Mordred Pendragon. Looks like we are roommates now."

 44 Lets Go Hunting!

    "Hello"

    That single word was all I managed as my eyes fixated on the captivating Iris Karsus, gracefully rising from her beanbag and stretching like a feline.

    I realized I was staring and averted my gaze.

    I was right about her scars.

    Her entire body was covered in them, some looked so horrible I was amazed she even survived the injuries that made them.

    And she was only here for a year.

    Goodness.

    Although I must admit, it is not that difficult to accumulate that many scars in a short time.

    Just look at me.

    It''s only been a month and I already have multiple scars on my limbs and torso.

    So far, none on my face. I was very careful not to mar this beautiful face of mine.

    "Oh please. You act like you''ve never seen a girl minus the dress," Iris remarked, noticing my shifting gaze.

    She gestured to her current attire, "I''m wearing this to not unsettle my new roommate. My usual underwear is more of the breezy kind."

    My imagination went wild.

    Calm down, Mordred. She''s thirteen years old and so am I, well currently.

    But still, it is quite weird.

    "Uh, okay?" I stammered, feeling unsettled

    "Stop it, Iris. You''re making him uncomfortable," Damien chided and gave me a look of understanding.

    "Iris usually prefers to dress light so this is the norm for her."

    "What can I say? I''m kind of free-spirited," Iris shrugged with a smug look.

    "If by free-spirited you mean absolutely shameless, then yeah. You are the most free-spirited person I''ve ever met in my life," Damien retorted.

    "Hey!", the blue-eyed beauty protested with a frown, "Isn''t that a bit too harsh?"

    But Damien wasn''t done. He turned to me.

    "To tell you how shameless Iris can be. She once barged into Felix''s room straight out of the shower with only a towel wrapped around her body."

    "He said it was urgent!", Iris protested.

    Damien''s exasperated voice echoed, "You could''ve put on an oversized T-shirt at the very least! The poor guy was begging for forgiveness from his very confused fiancee through the phone after your visit."

    A small laugh escaped my mouth and then my heart stung at the thought of Felix.

    "That would be something Felix would do. He did say that Jasper can get quite scary," I said with a sad smile.

    There was a heavy silence as Felix''s absence weighed on our hearts.

    "Felix was the best," Iris sighed and looked at me, "It was you who suggested delivering his body to his fiancee. That was a good call."

    I shrugged, "I just felt that was the right thing to do."

    "And it was," Iris replied and clapped her hands.

    "Ah yes! Felix requested me to tell you something before he went with the hunting party."

    I and Damien looked at her.

    "What is it?" I asked.

    "I''ll tell you but before that, let''s go for a hunt," Iris pointed at her wardrobe and a tendril of darkness snaked from her finger, opened the door, and grabbed a jacket.

    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    I blinked in confusion, "A hunt?"

    "Yeah. A hunt."

    "Why?", Damien asked as he squinted at her.

    Iris didn''t respond and turned to us, "How about you guys sit somewhere while I change?"

    "No thank you. We mind," Damien grabbed my shoulders and guided me out of the room before closing the door behind us.

    "Honestly! How shameless can she be?", he sighed.

    I suddenly got reminded of a certain white-haired girl by the name of Merlin.

    "She is quite the interesting child," I remarked.

    Damien arched his eyebrows, "Mordred, you are a child as well."

    It didn''t take long for us to wait for Iris.

    "Alright then! Let''s go!", she chirped and stepped into the corridor.

    She was stunning a moment ago but after changing into her Deathwalker uniform, her beauty has become more jaw-dropping.

    Her uniform had a similar design to mine with a few adjustments, particularly the reversed colors.

    She wore a red sleeveless turtleneck crop top that exposed her navel under a black Deathwalker jacket with red accents that she wore off the shoulder.

    Her black slacks had crimson designs that perfectly aligned with the black designs on her crimson boots.

    I was stunned. For a girl who prefers to dress lightly, Iris is quite the fashionable one.

    "You like it?", Iris caught me admiring her uniform, "I made the designs myself and had Dorothy alter my uniform."

    "You are quite good," I remarked.

    She shrugged, "I just picked it up in the Shield. Dorothy helped a lot."

    "Anyway. Shall we go for a hunt? I already informed Minerva so you cannot back out now," she said, turning to me.

    Damien looked perplexed, "Why are we going on a hunt.?"

    "That''s because I want to see what His Highness is capable of. You know a lot about a person when you hunt with them," she replied and looked at him.

    "And no. You are not coming. It''s just me and Mordred."

    Damien suddenly looked concerned, "You sure?"

    Iris rolled her eyes, "Of course I am sure. I''m stronger than you."

    The brown-eyed Deathwalker shook his head, "I''m more concerned about you accompanying Mordred."

    "He''ll be fine. What? You don''t trust me?", Iris''s expression suddenly darkened and her blue irises glowed.

    Heh. Get it?

    The light panels flickered as tendrils of darkness curled around us and an ominous chill made me shiver.

    Damien raised his hands in resignation, "Alright! I trust you. Just don''t get him killed."

    The ominous chill along with the darkness quickly dissipated and Iris''s eyes stopped glowing.

    She huffed, "Of course, I''ll not get him killed. I''ll step in if things get dangerous."

    The girl turned to me, "Follow me!"

    "Mordred," Damien grabbed my shoulder as I followed her. He really did look quite concerned.

    "As long as she is with you, you are safe from any threats you''ll face in the mountains. If you ever feel lost, do not hesitate to call Minerva, and do not follow Iris if she tells you of a shortcut."

    He emphasized the last part as if taking a shortcut with Iris is the same as bumping into Asphodel.

    I nodded and with a hasty farewell, I ran to catch up with the retreating form of Iris.

    *******

    "So. What are we hunting?", I asked loudly over the high winds.

    These strong winds of the mountains slapped me in the face with their unrelenting cold.

    Fortunately, the ruthless cold of Les Anciennes virtually does not affect me due to the advanced temperature control of my uniform.

    It feels a bit nippy but I am not trembling like a hypercharged chihuahua.

    Iris on the other hand was unaffected by the bone-chilling cold despite not even fully putting on her jacket.

    Her deep blue eyes searched for something hidden among the heavy snowfall of the mountains.

    We are currently in a forest a good distance from the Shield and Iris stopped to survey the area.

    "A Glacial Hornbear," she replied after looking around, "This area is clear."

    "You mean a Pookie Bear?", I asked, surprised.

    "Incarni! I hate that name!", Iris huffed, "I once got mauled by one of those while on a hunt."

    She looked at me, "And I tell you. There is nothing ''pookie'' about them."

    I grimaced, "Must''ve been nasty. So you are hunting hornbears for revenge now?"

    "Oh. I already killed the one that mauled me. This time you will be hunting one," she looked ahead, "Felix asked me to make you a part of Unit 21 before his...untimely demise."

    That stung worse than the cold wind hitting me in the face.

    "How did you first meet him?", I asked in a melancholy voice as we trudged alongside each other on the snow.

    "In my second battle. He practically saved my life and introduced me to Unit 21. He was the brother I always wanted, unlike my very own."

    I detected a faint disdain when she spoke the last four words.

    She stopped and glanced back at me, her blue eyes piercing into mine, "The only reason why you and I are standing here is because of that guy."

    And with that heartwrenching statement, we continued ahead.

    After some time of trudging through the snow, avoiding low-hanging branches, and trying not to trip on roots while the wind slapped like an ice-cold wet towel, I was starting to get worried.

    "Can''t we ask Minerva for the Pookie bears'' location?" I suggested, looking at our surroundings anxiously.

    I heard a scoff from Iris, "Don''t worry, your spoiled Highness! I''ve hunted in these parts of the mountains before. I know the location of the hornbears even better than that moody AI."

    She gave me a confident smile, "You just need to kill one or more of those cuddly killing machines. You just need to follow me. I even know of a shortcut."

    Damien''s caution echoed in my mind and uneasiness blossomed in my stomach.

    And no, it wasn''t the spicy cheese fries I had for lunch.

    I glanced at the bright blue ends of Iris''s hair as she trudged ahead confidently and then behind me which showed only snow-laden trees, rocks, and the nearby mountains.

    There was no sign of the massive Shield.

    Feeling quite anxious I summoned a holographic keyboard from my bracelet and discreetly typed in a message without alerting the girl in front of me.

    After sending I looked around again and then at Iris.

    Things won''t be that bad. Like Iris said, she''ll be there.

    Right?

 45 How Do You Mess Up Left And Right?

    The setting sun cast a beautiful golden glow over the imposing peaks of the mountains of Les Anciennes and painted the snow in fiery hues.

    I would''ve enjoyed this incredible sight if I weren''t hopelessly lost in the woods with probably the worst guide in Asteris.

    "Hm. That''s funny.", Iris frowned, her eyes fixated on a peculiar rock.

    "I''m pretty sure we saw this rock just a moment ago."

    She turned to me, "Could it be that there are more of these weird-shaped rocks?"

    With a deadpan stare, I replied, "No, Iris. We circled back after that right turn."

    "Right turn?", Iris looked perplexed, "Wasn''t that the left?"

    Oh Incarni. This is worse than I thought.

    "Miss Iris?", I called her.

    "Just call me Iris. No need to be formal. What is it?", she asked.

    "Are you bad with directions?", I asked bluntly.

    Iris shifted her gaze and was immediately fascinated by a lone branch on the snow.

    "Why ask?"

    "Oh, I don''t know. Maybe because we were trudging in this Incarni-forsaken tundra all day looking for a sleuth of Pookie bears whose location you are sure of?", I retorted sarcastically.

    "So I ask again, Iris. Are you bad with directions?" I asked, eyeing her intently.

    She shifted uncomfortably and gave me a sheepish grin, "Maybe?"

    "How bad?" I pressed.

    She pressed her lips and rubbed the back of her neck, "Remember our first meeting?"

    "In the gym? Yeah.", I recalled, "You were quite bold back then."

    "Yeah.", she grimaced, "I was craving a late-night snack at the 24-hour cafe but I took a left turn instead of a right and after a few more wrong turns I ended up in the gym."

    "That caf��''s on the ground floor, the gym''s on the sixth. Didn''t you notice the extra floors?" I asked incredulously.

    She gave me the brightest smile I had ever seen, "I guess I am a bit directionally challenged."

    "A bit?! You messed up left and right! How in the name of the Incarni do you even do that?!", I exclaimed in disbelief.

    "Alright alright! I am bad at directions! You happy?!", Iris threw her hands in the air and exclaimed.

    "You''re downright awful!", I shook my head and sighed.

    I looked at her in absolute wonder, "You said you went on hunts before. How did you not end up in a park in Sleveria?"

    "I went with my Unit.", she answered, "Felix was our best tracker and made sure I didn''t wander off."

    Iris bit her lip, "This is my first solo hunt."

    She sighed, "Well. I must say it''s going swimmingly."

    I sighed, "Good thing I asked Minerva to track us."

    Iris looked offended, "What? You didn''t trust me?"

    "I trust your strength, Iris. I bore witness to it on the battlefield but Damien suggested I contact Minerva if lost.", I explained.

    "You know, I still know where the hornbears are.", she protested.

    I chuckled, "Sure you do, Lady Karsus."

    I would''ve lost my head if it weren''t for my instincts.

    Detecting an insane amount of Bloodlust, I quickly ducked just as a bolt of pure darkness flashed right where my face was a second ago.

    The next second, I heard a huge roar as the bolt hit the side of the mountain, decimating the area and raining small clumps of snow on me.

    "Do not ever speak that name.", Iris warned in an icy tone, her previous casual demeanor replaced by a barely controlled rage.

    Tendrils of darkness rose from her and an ominous chill associated with Tenebris washed over me.

    I gulped and stepped back as another bolt of black lightning materialized in her hand and the power of Tenebris washed over me.

    Out of the ten strands, Tenebris is unique.

    Including its power over darkness, shadows, and death, Tenebris is also capable of mimicking other strands in the form of their dark counterparts.

    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    Black flames, dark water, black lightning, and other dark forms of strands or sub-strands can be controlled by Tenebris warlocks.

    The only strands Tenebris cannot mimic are Chronos, Locus, and Haema.

    Even with that rather minor limitation, it is considered one of the strongest strands.

    And I''m about to taste the very same bolt of black lightning that obliterated a daemon in one shot if I don''t diffuse the situation.

    "Okay! I''m sorry! Please put down the bolt before things get nasty.", I held out my hands and pleaded.

    But my words seemed to be falling on deaf ears as Iris approached me, holding the black bolt with a dangerous glint in her eyes.

    It is as if the name ''Karsus'' triggered unpleasant memories in her, memories that would enrage her if surfaced.

    Does she hate Duke Karsus so much that the mere mention of that name would make her spontaneously erupt with rage?

    Great. Duke Karsus, you are the Father of The Year.

    If it were any other person, they would either run or defend against Iris.

    But I am no ordinary person. I''m Sir Mordred and I can keep my calm.

    I guess.

    But before I could say anything else, I heard a rumbling and sensed something approaching from behind, something huge and fast.

    A rush of icy wind followed by random clumps of snow hit me in the back and the ground vibrated as if a gigantic beast was rushing down the mountain right at us.

    Iris stopped in her tracks and her bolt fizzled out of existence as her eyes widened in alarm.

    "Quick! We must escape!", she yelled and threw a tendril of darkness at me. It wrapped around my arm and she yanked me toward her.

    I quickly turned around and saw a massive avalanche bearing down on us.

    "Ah shit!", I swore as the roiling wall of snow slammed into my face.

    *******

    It was dark and suffocating.

    A glacial chill enveloped my body from all sides and I felt hopelessly trapped.

    A cold wetness slowly seeped into my clothes and touched my skin, tingling my spine.

    Fortunately, I reinforced my body with ardor just before the avalanche hit me and my uniform''s temperature control prevented my body from getting cold.

    Images of a red sky with black stars, blood, entrails, and dismembered body parts flashed into my mind.

    An incessant and distorted whispering, a dark chant filled the silence as I lay trapped under the snow.

    Or was it snow?

    Suddenly I could feel things attaching to my body and the taste of blood flowed into my tongue.

    Panic gripped my heart and my breathing became rapid.

    No no no.

    It cannot be! Calm down Mordred!

    I''m trapped under the snow. This is not my nightmare.

    I''m just hallucinating.

    But the more I tried to reassure myself, the more the blood, the stench, and the feeling of organs touching my body intensified.

    I desperately tried to move my body, trying to claw myself out of this frigid prison. I am strong enough to break out of this.

    But my movements are restrained, as if numerous dismembered hands had grabbed hold of me and were pulling me down.

    I opened my mouth to scream only for blood to flow in along with some nasty clumps.

    No! Please! It cannot be!

    Suddenly I felt a tug on my wrist. The horrifying images flickered as another tug, this one stronger than the previous one.

    Then, a tug strong enough to rip off my arm pulled me up and my body moved through the densely packed snow as if it were water.

    Like a fisherman hauling a catch, I was pulled out of the snow and floated in the air for a minute before crashing into the snowy ground.

    "You alive?", Iris''s voice broke through the whispers that still lingered in my ears.

    "Yeah," I managed weakly, seizing her hand.

    I activated Haema and accelerated my blood to give me an energy boost.

    "Whoa!", I gasped as the energy boost hit me like a blow from a daemon.

    I quickly scanned my surroundings and realized it was night. The two moons in the night sky illuminated the surroundings.

    I continued to observe. Looks like we ended up in some deep wood, the spot I am standing on must''ve had lots of trees before it was buried by the avalanche, judging by all the broken branches and trunks.

    "Where are we?", I asked after making sense of my surroundings.

    "The avalanche swept us further down the mountain into these woods.", Iris replied, warily looking around.

    "Take out your weapon.", she urged, her eyes calmly sweeping the woods as if expecting an ambush.

    Still confused, I took out my daggers.

    "What is it?", I asked and looked around again.

    "The woods of Les Anciennes at night? Not the best place to be lost in.", she took out her daggers and stood behind me.

    Ah. That''s what it is.

    I gripped my daggers and sharpened my senses. My enhanced hearing was able to detect them.

    Animalistic growls and soft paws trudging in the snow surrounded us.

    A terrible howl pierced the stillness of the night and hunched silhouettes appeared under the pure moonlight.

    "Wolves?", I asked, my eyes flitting from one monstrously hunched form to another.

    "Worse.", Iris growled, "Frost Hounds."

    "Oh, that''s just wonderful."

    I''ve read about them a while back with Felix.

    Felix...

    My heart ached at the thought of never seeing my friend again.

    I shook my head. Focus!

    From what I read, Frost Hounds are native to Les Anciennes and are quite adept at erasing their presence and also have adaptive camouflage like a chameleon.

    That explains why we didn''t sense them until they were close.

    I don''t know how they compare against a Glacial Hornbear but they are quite deadly, especially in a pack.

    "So what do you call these guys? Icy Puppies?", I quipped nervously as the ground vibrated from the collective growling of the ardimals.

    "That''s actually a good name. I think we should consider it.", Iris admitted as the hounds shimmered into view.

    And boy are they a sight to see!

    "My. Aren''t you guys just the cutest?"

 46 You Are A Bloody Monster

    Majestic and horrifying.

    That''s what I would first say if asked to describe a Frost Hound.

    Each of the hounds surrounding us possesses a captivating yet menacing appearance.

    Their hunched forms stood over six feet, literally towering over me, and their lean bodies which were over eight feet in length rippled with powerful muscles.

    Their unkempt white fur is tinged with an icy blue layered with ice and has an ethereal glow under the moonlight.

    Sharp bristles that look like ice needles sprouted out of their spines and quivered like a porcupine''s.

    These bristles can be detached and launched at their prey, incapacitating the poor creature with their icy venom. As soon as one bristle is detached, another one grows to take its place.

    Their sharp claws and jagged teeth resemble frozen icicles curved and serrated into deadly instruments of death.

    Poisonous saliva dripped out of their snarling jaws as their glowing blue eyes watched our every movement, intelligence glinting in them.

    Yeah. They are intelligent ardimals as if the venomous spines and saliva along with the wonderful array of claws and teeth weren''t enough.

    I gulped. These things are lean agile killing machines that hunt in packs. I would rather take on a powerful Pookie bear than a hungry pack of Frost Hounds.

    I trained my omni contacts on one of the hounds and with a quick scan its rank appeared in my vision.

    <Frost Hound>

    <Rank: Master D>

    My lips curled into a smile. I could take on a Frost Hound.

    Just before I went with Damien to my new room, I had Minerva reevaluate me.

    I''m now intermediate D rank.

    Sure, the hounds are master D rank each but I''m confident I can do this entire pack on my own.

    Why? That''s because I am Sir Mordred, a Knight of the Round.

    My skills and experience far surpass my rank. My triquetra state greatly compensates for my low power.

    I counted the hounds slowly encircling us.

    "Ten Frost Hounds. Rather small for a pack, don''t you think?", I voiced my suspicions, keeping my eyes trained on the snarling hounds.

    "Yeah.", Iris nodded, "Could be a newly formed one. That means the pack leader should be somewhere nearby."

    I noticed a tendril of darkness on the ground snake between the hounds and shoot off into the forest

    In a matter of seconds, Iris perked up and a sadistic smile decorated her face as if she found her prey.

    "Found you."

    "You can handle these guys, right?", she asked, her eyes trained beyond the teeth and claws of the hounds and deeper into the wood.

    "Might be tricky. But yeah.", I nodded.

    "Alright then. I leave them to you."

    "Just don''t get lost.", was my request.

    She grinned, "Just follow the trail of ardor or destruction."

    With those words, her body turned into darkness and slipped into my shadow.

    Shadow travel. Of course, she mastered the Shadow sub-strand.

    Geniuses really are something.

    The hounds backed up and looked confused when she disappeared. One even barked in panic.

    "Oh don''t worry. She just went to pay a visit to your pack leader. In the meantime, why don''t you try me? This could be your only chance to eat royal flesh.", I taunted.

    The hounds'' ears perked when they heard the word flesh. Their eyes focused on me and their legs tensed up, ready to pounce on me.

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    No way I am letting them make the first move.

    I entered my triquetra state and launched at the nearest hound.

    In a swift motion, I swung a dagger at the ardimal''s throat. The sharp white blade sliced through the thick coat and severed a major artery.

    The mutt yelped as its blood sprayed all over the pristine white snow and buckled to its knees before collapsing in a twitching heap.

    But I didn''t stop there, utilizing the initial shock of watching one of their own die, I quickly reached the next hound and drove a dagger through its eye, straight into its brain.

    Two down. Eight to go.

    Unfortunately, by then the hounds had recovered from their shock and pounced on me.

    A quick bunch I must say.

    With the help of transcendence, I quickly dodged the serrated canines of one hound and dealt a powerful kick to its side.

    Two hounds pounced on me, their deadly claws glinting like daggers of ice. I twisted and parried with my daggers.

    The white blades sparked against the claws and pushed the hounds back. I quickly lashed out and slashed one of them in the paw.

    The hound yelped and staggered before falling to its side, its body frozen by the paralysis effect of the dagger.

    "About damn time.", I muttered as I stepped forward to finish the hound.

    Suddenly my instincts kicked in and I twisted around to see white fur tinged with ice.

    I immediately braced as the hound rammed into me, launching me in the air.

    While upside down in the air. I heard a collective hissing and my eyes fell on the hounds.

    The bristles along their spines were quivering violently and their glowing blue eyes were on me.

    "Ah, shit."

    With a collective howl, they shot their venomous bristles at my falling body.

    Fortunately, the bristles are slowed down in my transcendent state and I was able to act swiftly.

    I pricked my finger with a dagger while praying that I would not be paralyzed and drew blood.

    Using Haema I formed two blood tentacles and deflected most of the bristles with them.

    Unfortunately, they didn''t deflect all the bristles. One or two venomous needles pierced my legs

    An icy sting followed by a cold numbness spread from the bristles and threatened to shut down my body.

    But I gritted my teeth and twisted my body so that I crashed into the snow on my back. I quickly pulled out the bristles and focused Haema to neutralize the venom.

    Only to realize that I am no longer affected by the dangerous venom.

    Huh? That''s odd. I can still remember the numbness and sting when they pierced my legs.

    But now? The only thing I am feeling right now is the pain of pulling out the bristles from my flesh.

    Weird.

    But I didn''t have time to be weirded out as three frosty hounds pounced on me. I quickly held out my hand and blood-red runes encircled it.

    {Haema: Blood Grenade}

    A powerful explosion of blood ripped apart the hounds into pieces that showered me along with their blood.

    Ew. Now that is disgusting.

    But hey. Five down, five more to go.

    I leaped to my feet and gripped my daggers as I looked down at the remaining hounds. Despite watching their buddies get slaughtered by me, they didn''t flee.

    No. They looked more determined than ever, to kill me and present my handsome corpse to their pack leader.

    Well. Not happening tonight, little puppies.

    Blood swirled around my daggers and two blood tentacles unfurled on my back and swayed in the air.

    I re-entered my triquetra and unleashed my aura. It had grown a lot stronger than before but it wasn''t enough to deter the hounds.

    In return, their bristles quivered and they snarled viciously at me, their glowing blue eyes full of malice and hunger.

    "Let''s do this.", I grinned and leaped toward them.

    The howls of the hounds cut through the air as they pounced on me.

    *******

    "Took you long enough. But good job!", Iris remarked as I trudged through the snow.

    I nodded and wiped the blood off my face. I looked at where she was relaxing.

    "No wonder I didn''t sense a peep from the pack leader. You already took care of it.", I said, impressed by her handiwork.

    Iris Karsus was relaxing on the corpse of a Frost Hound alpha, a formidable beast the size of a dump truck with ice leading off its fur and huge chunks of ice sprouting out of its elbows.

    Its bristles were icicles the size of me sprouting out of its back, its claws were massive scythes made of ice crystals and its teeth were the size of my daggers and serrated like a chainsaw.

    I trained my Omni contacts on the dead ardimal and its rank flashed into my eyes.

    <Alpha Frost Hound>

    <Rank: Master B>

    I whistled. Now that''s what I call a powerful dog.

    It would''ve been a truly formidable ardimal if it weren''t impaled to the ground by long rods of darkness solidified like metal.

    I could see wisps of darkness trailing from the blunt ends of the rods and the lake of blood mixed with the snow was still spreading.

    "Did it take much trouble?", I asked as I approached her, blood and snow splashing off my boots.

    She smirked, "Trouble? I pinned the icy bitch as soon as I saw her and then hid in the shadows to watch you take on her mutts."

    I was speechless and my eyes wandered from Iris to the dead hound and back. She was able to kill an alpha that was a master B rank ardimal easily and return to watch me fight.

    "You are a bloody monster.", I said in awe.

    Iris gave me a maniacal grin, "Of course I am."

 47 Atleast You Have A Loving Brother

    "So. No Pookie Bears?"

    I asked after wiping the blood off my daggers.

    "I don''t think we need a Pookie bear to evaluate you," Iris glanced at me, "Your performance with the Frost Hounds and other ardimals was impressive enough."

    She swung her daggers, splattering the blood to the snow and cleaning the black blades.

    "We''re just making sure we don''t become dinner."

    It''s been an hour since we slaughtered a pack of Frost Hounds and we are slowly ascending the mountain so that we''ll be in range for Minerva to teleport us back into the Shield.

    The Frost Hounds weren''t the only nasty creatures interested in eating us.

    We battled through scores of savage ardimals mutated by the harsh conditions of Les Anciennes.

    The funny thing is, not one of them included the ardimal we set out to hunt in the first place.

    The Glacial Hornbear.

    Weird.

    Our primary concern wasn''t the cold and hunger thanks to our temperature-regulated uniforms and Iris brought the necessary supplies, including some delicious rations.

    Our only concern was getting in range for Minerva.

    "I don''t get it," I spoke up.

    "Get what?" Iris glanced at me with curiosity.

    "Why are we trying to be in range? Minerva is an AI on par with Ace and can even easily scan the entire mountain range of Les Anciennes."

    "Ah," she sighed, "Your Highness. Specialized teleportation with Locus is quite different from channeling data and information on a global scale."

    She jumped high and climbed onto a ledge before extending her arm to me. I accepted it and followed her in going up the mountain.

    "The teleportation that takes us to the battlefield uses a massive and complex code of multiple sets of runes intricately woven together. It took me a week to study the entire thing."

    I blinked, "Is that normal?"

    Iris shook her head, "Nope. For a normal person, they would take at least six months to study the entire code."

    Goodness gracious! This girl is insane!

    "If the range increases, the effectivity and number of Deathwalkers teleported will be decreased." she continued.

    "So a particular range has been decided. The teleportation code encompasses the entirety of Blood Valley and the surrounding woods."

    She gave me a sheepish smile, "Including the place we were before the avalanche."

    "Oh yeah," I feigned surprise, "The avalanche really caught us off guard. No one could have predicted that."

    Iris winced, "Look. I am sorry for what happened back then. It''s just that whenever I hear that name..."

    "You get explosive," I finished for her.

    "Yeah," she admitted.

    "Sounds like a charming family," I quipped.

    She scoffed, "You have no fucking idea."

    We chuckled and then there was a silence between us.

    "So," I broke the awkward silence, "How did a genius warlock like you end up in the Shield?"

    I know I am entering dangerous territory but my curiosity got the better of me. I just hope it won''t come back to kill me.

    Iris raised an eyebrow, "Me? A genius warlock? What brought you to that conclusion?"

    I shrugged, "Well. The fact that you could understand a massive code that would''ve taken six months to understand in one week?"

    "And your combat abilities are very superior along with your manipulation of ardor and Tenebris?"

    Iris chuckled, "Yeah. You are right. I am a genius."

    "But as a warlock," she smiled at me, "I''m afraid I''m like you, a very late bloomer."

    I was speechless, "No way. You? A late bloomer?"

    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    "It''s true!" She nodded, "I awakened my strand when I was twelve years old. A year ago."

    "A year ago?" My eyes widened.

    "Yeah. Right before I was sent here, kind of like you," she admitted.

    "You mean?"

    "Like you, my strand awakened from intense emotions," Her eyes darkened.

    "Your strand awakened due to your rage against the slandering of your mother. Mine awakened from an ardent desperation to survive and an intense hatred toward my family."

    I whistled, "Of course you would hate your family. You are-"

    "The bastard of Duke Karsus," Iris interjected.

    I furrowed my eyebrows, "Yeah."

    She scoffed, "But even bastards are part of the family and treated well."

    Her jaw tightened and an ominous chill seeped out of her. "My mother was a commoner who caught the eyes of the Duke one fine morning," she began.

    "And that was how I was conceived. My mother concealed me from the Duke to protect me. Since he was a married man, she was aware of the dangers and kept me hidden."

    "But this is Duke Karsus we are talking about. That man had eyes and ears everywhere," she let out a dry chuckle.

    "All it took was a single glimpse of little baby me."

    It became even colder and tendrils of darkness curled out of her body.

    "The next day. My father paid my mother a visit in her humble abode, sword in hand, ready to kill me."

    Iris gave a bitter smile, "That would''ve been an easier way to leave this world."

    "My mother begged him not to kill me. But the Duke was oh so cold and ruthless, and her pleas fell on deaf ears."

    "And then she made a deal. Her life for mine."

    The temperature dropped further and I shivered even with the temperature control of my uniform.

    "And so the Duke killed my mother, took me, a little baby swaddled in blankets to the Karsus estate, and tossed me into the attic."

    "He found my mother''s younger sister and appointed her as my maid."

    Iris took a deep breath as if to calm down her bubbling rage, "I grew up in the attic of the Karsus mansion."

    "I only had a single layer of clothing to wear no matter how cold it became and ate leftovers that my aunt, Adeline scrounged up for the both of us."

    A sad smile played on her lips, "Adeline was the only one I had. She taught me to read and was the first to recognize my genius."

    "The duchess and her three sons bullied me. The maids harassed Adeline. We only had each other."

    "She was like a caring mother to me."

    A terrifying Bloodlust took hold of me and froze my body in place.

    "My brothers," she said in a voice filled with venom, "They noticed the bond between us and decided to have a little ''fun'' with it."

    "It was when I was eight years old," she recounted. "A different maid brought a closed platter to me during lunchtime, saying it was a special dish made just for me."

    She stopped and composed herself to speak the next bit, "I opened the platter and saw the dish that was prepared for me."

    "The freshly severed hand of Adeline."

    "Oh Incarni," I voiced out, feeling sick in the stomach, and looked at her in shock, "What the hell?"

    Iris gave a grim nod, "You suffered a lot of bullying in your childhood yet at least you have a loving brother."

    "My ''brothers'' were nothing more than fiends."

    "What happened to Adeline?" I asked, my fists clenched, a rage similar to Iris''s blossoming inside of me.

    Iris saw my reaction and calmed down, a small sad smile appeared on her lips.

    "Fortunately, the Duke intervened before things got worse. He dismissed her after the incident. That was the last I saw of Adeline."

    "That was the only thing I ever felt thankful to the man."

    She continued. "After Adeline left, it was hell."

    "Every day was filled with pain as those three beat me for every single inconvenience. They kicked, thrashed, bashed, even broke a bone or two."

    "And by the end of the day, they would heal me. By the time I became a Deathwalker, I had stopped feeling pain."

    Her body shuddered as she recounted, "They would use me as a sparring dummy to hone their skills. I secretly observed their movements as they unleashed their skills on me."

    "Since I was a genius, I quickly learned their skills."

    "I easily surpassed those three goblins but I hid my skills and bided my time."

    "But the worst were the hunts."

    "Hunts?" I asked, alarmed.

    Iris nodded, "My brothers would go on hunts in the woods of the estate. I was the prey."

    "That''s seriously messed up," I was horrified. "Are they even human?"

    "Who knows?" she shrugged. "They always kept me barely alive after hunting me down. Fortunately, I was a very elusive prey and would lose them most of the time."

    "Of course, the Duke never cared. He only promised to keep me alive."

    She bit her lip and clenched her fist again, "I endured and endured for years until I turned twelve."

    "That''s when you snapped," I guessed, realization slowly dawning on me.

    Iris nodded, "It was the worst hunt I had ever taken part in. Even the duchess was there."

    "I was sure I would die. The desperation and hatred just erupted in the form of my awakening."

    Her lips curled up into a smile, "Tenebris awakened in me, and I went berserk."

    "I killed the duchess and one of my brothers while I crippled another. It was the Duke who put a stop to my rampage."

    "Due to my actions, I was sentenced to five years in the Shield. Everyone expected me to die within the first week but here I am," Iris grinned and spread her arms.

    I was captivated by her striking beauty under the moonlight.

    The chilling tale revealed a different side of Iris, the scars enhancing her beauty.

    She looked like a goddess of war, beautiful but powerful.

    No. Not a goddess. Like a battle-hardened fairy of darkness.

    "The thing is," the Fairy of Tenebris added, her lips curling into an insane smile. "After brutally killing the duchess and my brother."

    "I don''t feel guilty at all."

 48 A Final Gift

    "Sorry. I promised to give you Felix''s past but instead told you mine."

    Iris said as we reached halfway to our destination.

    It was an arduous climb. I lost count of how often I slipped and almost tumbled down the mountain.

    And then there were the near-endless wild ardimals keen on having my beautiful face for dinner.

    Incarni! A gorgeous guy can''t catch a break, can he?

    I glanced up at Iris. Her story still lingered in my mind.

    This girl''s suffering during her childhood was worse than Mordred''s.

    I couldn''t help but be disgusted by her brother''s actions. Hunting humans, that too their sister...

    How despicable.

    In my past life, I''d witnessed cruel lords hunting down humans for sport, making it a sickening festival.

    I really enjoyed introducing their face to my sword.

    But in this futuristic world, I''d hoped such barbarism would be long gone.

    I sighed. Humans remain the same regardless of the world or time period.

    "So. Felix requested you tell me his past?" I asked.

    Iris nodded, turning around. "It was one of his last requests."

    "So hit me with it," I said, meeting her eyes.

    Iris furrowed her brow, "You sure you want to hear another somber story after listening to mine?"

    "Well. His past can''t be as bad as yours," I shrugged. "He was not messed up like you."

    "Yeah. That''s true," she bobbed her head. "Let''s talk while we climb."

    "So Felix was the youngest of the Valions. That is why he''s in the Shield," she gave me a knowing look.

    I just gave her a baffled stare. "Yeah? Am I supposed to be aware of that?"

    She looked at me like I just landed on Asteris from outer space.

    "What the hell? You don''t know the Valions? I knew them and I lived in a bloody attic!", she was at a loss of words.

    "Were you living under a rock?"

    "A rather opulent rock called the Dawn Palace," I clarified.

    "Not helping, Your Highness!"

    Iris sighed, pressing her fingers to her forehead. "Oh Incarni. I refuse to believe that the second High Prince is ignorant of what is happening outside the bloody Dawn Palace."

    "My servants didn''t really give me newspapers, so I''m quite behind in world affairs," I admitted.

    "That makes sense," she crossed her arms, "So the Vallions were an Axial Family and used to rule what''s now the Sleveria Duchy."

    "Felix was the youngest and he had a good life. Amazing older sisters, loving parents, even a loving girlfriend."

    "Jasper," I said.

    Iris nodded, "Duke Valion was a well-respected man and quite powerful."

    "But he wasn''t strong enough to stop the fall of his family by the hands of the Sleverias who were a family under the Valions."

    Her eyes darkened. "Felix''s whole family was killed, and he was taken prisoner."

    I suddenly remembered Felix''s words about his sisters.

    So that''s what he meant.

    "The Sleverias were hell-bent on eliminating the people close to the Valions. Unfortunately, that included Jasper," Iris continued.

    "But just as they were about to kill her in front of Felix, he proposed a deal."

    "A deal?" I raised an eyebrow, feeling a sense of unease.

    "Felix would become a Deathwalker in exchange for Jasper''s freedom and safety," Iris stated.

    "After serving his sentence, they were to leave him and Jasper alone. If Felix ever died, they still must leave Jasper alone and not harm her in any way possible."

    "Looks like the latter happened," I noted bitterly.

    Iris''s eyes were downcast, "Yeah."

    My eyes narrowed as I looked at her. "But the Sleverias are a powerful family and they are not exactly saints. They could disregard the deal entirely."

    She smirked. "Not if the deal was made in the presence of the High King."

    I stared dumbfounded. "What? You mean His Majesty?"

    Iris nodded, "The Vallions were good friends with the Pendragons. Felix called in a favor with your father and the High King agreed to be a witness."

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    "He even bestowed royal protection over Jasper."

    "And recent history has taught us that if one messed with a person under the High King''s protection. Things would get rather bloody."

    She shrugged. "His Majesty may be a strict ruler and a douchy dad but he is a man of honor."

    "Good for him, I guess," I grumbled.

    Iris chuckled and shook her head, "Daddy issues. I swear."

    And so we continued on our way.

    After another hour of climbing, fighting more bloodthirsty ardimals, and preventing Iris from taking more wrong turns, we finally reached the woods where we got lost the first time.

    Even better. We are now at the edge of Minerva''s teleportation range.

    A bit more distance and she will be able to green flash our cold asses back into the Shield.

    Hold up.

    "The color of Locus is silver. Why is there a green flash when Minerva teleports us?" I wondered aloud.

    "Oh, that''s an after-effect of the code," Iris explained. "As I told you, it''s a vastly complex code, so there are bound to be some ripples as a result of its execution."

    "Plus," she added with a playful smile, "It makes things more dramatic."

    "Great," I muttered, "An AI with a flair for the dramatic. I feel reassured by her presence."

    Iris laughed. It was a genuine, infectious sound that cut through the tension.

    "Maybe you are a little funny," she teased.

    I was about to retort how hilarious I was when I suddenly tripped and face-planted into the snow.

    Iris lost it.

    "Oh, Incarni! That was hilarious!" she exclaimed. "Listen, if you survive your sentence, you should definitely take up a career as a comedian. Or something better, a jester!" She laughed uncontrollably.

    Grumbling, I picked myself up from the snow. Brushing off the snow from my shoulders, I glanced at what I tripped on and my jaw hit the floor.

    "No way," I muttered and brushed off the snow, revealing a twisted horn that looked like an icicle.

    Iris finally stopped laughing and noticed me kneeling and brushing away the snow.

    "What is it?" she asked and stopped in her tracks. "No fucking way," she said and her lips crept into a smile.

    "Is that what I think it is?"

    I nodded, a baffled smile on my face. "Looks like your black bolt from back then didn''t just hit the side of the mountain."

    Excitedly, she came beside me and together we cleared the accumulated snow.

    "What a weird fortune," I remarked as I gazed down at the fully grown Glacial Hornbear, dead and preserved by the freezing snow.

    "So," we looked at each other. "Who''s going to carry it?"

    Iris raised an eyebrow. "You were the one who provoked me."

    "You were the one who shot the damn bolt," I countered.

    "Well? Who made me shoot it in the first place?"

    We bickered like this for some time and before things got violent I proposed a round of rock paper scissors.

    "Alright. Let''s do this!", Iris smacked her lips and clenched her fist.

    We both yelled.

    "Rock! Paper! Scissors!"

    "DAMNIT!"

    *******

    "So you beat the Fairy of Tenebris in rock paper scissors and made her carry the corpse of a full-grown Pookie Bear?" Dorothy''s face was a mixture of shock and awe.

    "My, you''re quite good at dealing with fiery ladies," she remarked with a sly smile.

    I gave her a flustered smile as her dreamy eyes captivated me.

    It had been a day since our hunt.

    Many eyebrows were raised when we arrived in the Shield covered in blood and Iris carrying a Pookie Bear corpse with a grumpy expression.

    And that''s how I spent the first night of getting a new room and a roommate. By sleeping on the floor despite there being two beds.

    Iris had dumped the Pookie Bear corpse on my bed.

    I sighed, "I swear, That girl is just plain unhinged."

    Dorothy didn''t respond. Instead, her gaze shifted past my shoulder, her sly smile remaining on her beautiful face.

    "She is behind me. Isn''t she?" I asked.

    Dorothy nodded.

    "Yep. And I am having the funny urge to unhinge your jaw," Iris''s voice made me turn around.

    She looked stunning in her Deathwalker uniform and her deep blue eyes glittered with mischief.

    The blue ends of her hair looked brighter than usual.

    "What are you doing here?" I asked.

    "I was trying to find my way after submitting the Pookie bear corpse and saw you in Lorvar''s. That''s when I remembered that I needed to sharpen my daggers." Iris answered.

    She tilted her head, "But what are you doing here?"

    I turned my gaze from her to the beautiful shop owner. "Dorothy asked me to come here. She didn''t delve into much detail."

    "So what it is?" I asked the teal-eyed beauty.

    Her expression softened and her smile turned melancholic.

    "Ah yes. Someone left a special gift for you, Mordred."

    "Who?" I asked, intrigued.

    Even Iris was curious as she stood beside me.

    Dorothy cast her eyes down, "Felix."

    "Ah. I see," my heart throbbed from a sting that had become quite familiar now.

    "What is it?" Iris asked, her voice more mellow than before.

    Dorothy bent down and disappeared behind the counter. She reemerged holding something long covered in a black velvet cloth.

    "He wanted you to have it. Even paid for the materials," she said as she unwrapped the mystery object.

    "Whoa," My breath was taken away as I gazed at the ebony-colored bow. It had a sleek and aerodynamic design, emphasizing both form and function.

    Its limbs curved gracefully with intricate silver patterns and runes etched on the edges.

    The grip was wrapped in a black velvety grip that feels comfortable to the touch and the string felt taut and quite strong.

    "By the Incarni," Iris''s blue eyes hovered over the bow, and she traced her finger along its ebony-colored limbs.

    "Is this Nightwood?", she asked, her eyes wide with awe.

    Dorothy nodded with a small smile. "Nightwood and state-of-the-art carbon fiber. The bowstring is made from a durable and flexible nanomaterial, enhancing its overall strength and resilience."

    "The string can absorb blood and amplify the power along with imbuing the arrows with blood. Perfect for Haema warlocks."

    "A built-in holographic sight provides accurate readings, no matter the environment or time of the day."

    "It has a silent release mechanism, perfect for stealthy shots. A sequence of runes carved into the limbs ensures quick amplification and application of ardor into the arrows."

    "Overall. A pretty sweet weapon of destruction," Dorothy remarked, "My old man had a hell of a time crafting this baby."

    I was speechless. Felix prepared something this amazing. What did I ever do for him except scream at his dead body?

    Guilt and sadness gnawed at me, and I bit my lip. This was his final gift to me, one that would give me a chance to survive in this hell.

    "Thank you, Felix," I choked on my words and then looked at a teary-eyed Dorothy. "Thank you."

    She smiled and wiped her tears. "I''m just fulfilling his final wish."

    There was a heavy silence for a moment which was broken by Iris.

    "I hope you are proficient with a bow, Your Highness. We have a battle scheduled today and I have no idea when we''ll be called."

    I blinked, my sadness and longing replaced by confusion.

    "What do you mean scheduled? Also, just call me Mordred, now that we are roommates."

    She smiled. "Fine Mordred. You are now part of Unit 21 and we''re gonna go for battle soon enough."

    "What?" me and Dorothy chorused, looking at the Fairy of Tenebris in shock.

    "You''re now a member of Unit 21?" Dorothy turned to me, her teal eyes widened in surprise.

    "I am?" I asked back.

    Iris smirked. "Yes, you are."

    "Oh Incarni," Dorothy sank into her chair and shook her head. "Now I feel bad for you."

    Somewhat disturbed by her look of pity I asked, "Why?"

    "Why? Mordred. Unit 21 contains powerful Deathwalkers who are also the most unhinged in the Shield," she replied.

    My eyes went over to Iris who nodded with a wide grin. "Yep! Welcome to the Lunatics, Mordred!"

    Just then, the daemon alarm blared around us. Mine and Iris''s bracelets started blinking rapidly.

    "Oh, that''s just fantastic!" I swore.

    Dorothy quickly brought out a quiver full of black arrows and tossed it to me. I caught them and put them along with the bow into my bracelet.

    "Don''t you bloody die!" Dorothy crossed her arms and yelled over the blaring alarm.

    I nodded and looked at Iris who looked quite excited.

    "This is going to be fun!", she declared.

    I couldn''t help but smile.

    "You don''t say."

 49 Of Course Im Alive!

    A cold wind blew across the valley like the breath of an ancient ice giant.

    Snow fell heavily on the ground, attempting to conceal the crimson snow that blanketed the ground.

    The ominous presence of the otherworldly Tear prevailed all over the valley and its eerie gravity distorted everything in its proximity.

    The swirling darkness and dark purple energy in the Tear''s maw rippled as it gazed like a colossal eye at the carnage before it.

    The imposing mountains that enclosed the valley echoed with a cacophony of unsettling sounds

    The clang of metals as weapons clashed, the roar of flames, the crackling of lightning, the rumbling of the earth and shattering rocks, and the flowing of water.

    But interwoven with these bustle of strands are far more sinister sounds.

    The cracking and breaking of bones, the tearing of flesh from the body, the splatter of blood as it watered the ground and further enhanced the crimson of the snow.

    And then there are the screams.

    Screams of agony and horror.

    Screams of despair at the loss of precious bonds shattered by gruesome deaths.

    Unholy screams of undead abominations as they rampaged against the living.

    And finally, the screams of defiance and bravery that united individuals against a single enemy.

    All of these sounds together formed a horrifying and morbid orchestra as Deathwalkers and clashed violently in a vicious battle.

    A battle for their lives against the daemons, a vast wave of death and devastation enshrouded in a haunting silence.

    Explosions of darkness ripped through the heavy snowfall as daemons fell to the savage and desperate blades of many Deathwalkers.

    Crimson pillars of smoke wailed and flew in circles as wraiths tried to find their victims only to dissipate when no one dared to approach them.

    Numerous blue bonfires raged on the crimson ground as those unfortunate enough to be turned into wraiths were burned alive by their grieving comrades.

    Severed limbs flew in the air and littered the battlefield. Heads rolled and bodies fell as the daemons killed Deathwalkers with gruesome precision.

    A truly horrifying spectacle that is nothing short of a living nightmare.

    Amidst this macabre display of death and more death, a young man cowered behind a blood-soaked boulder attempting to drown out the agonizing screams echoing in his ears and calm his trembling body.

    About sixteen years old with messy hair, fear reflected in trembling eyes. His new Deathwalker uniform was splattered with blood.

    The blood of the others with him just moments before the daemons descended on their Unit.

    "Oh Incarni," he whimpered as he clamped his hands over his ears, a desperate and futile attempt to drown the screams.

    ''This can''t be happening. This is not what I imagined to be," he thought.

    He was a swordsman from a powerful family. He became a Deathwalker willingly to prove himself to be seen as an heir more worthy than his older sister.

    He thought that the daemons were like any other ardor beings.

    Heck, he even saw them as an abnormal type of ardimals.

    Like actual demons from the stories.

    He never expected them to be so...nightmarish.

    The Newbie Unit he was a part of was thrown into disarray in mere minutes. The entire Unit was scattered despite the Captain''s best efforts.

    Many were dead, either brutally killed by the daemons or burned alive by the Deathwalkers when they turned into wraiths.

    The only reason he survived this far was due to the combat skills and discipline he learned from the knights of his family.

    But even those felt meaningless when faced with the sheer power of the daemons.

    Indeed the weakest one is D-ranked but each hit from one of them contains the full power associated with that rank.

    And there was no discipline or formation with the Deathwalkers. The daemons would decimate whatever military formations that could be put together.

    And so the Deathwalkers fought like animals, putting down one daemon after another. If they lose their arms, they will use their teeth to fight.

    The young newbie found himself ill-prepared for the horrors that unfolded, a battle that resembled hell itself.

    He felt a thud before him and his eyes lowered to a truly blood-chilling sight.

    A Deathwalker in his twenties stared up at the young man, the lower part of his torso cleanly sliced away and blood flowed from the gaping hole.

    Before he could utter a sound, blood gurgled out his mouth, and the light faded from his eyes.

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    As the young man stared at the dead man in shock, a shadow loomed over him.

    "Shit!" he swore and jumped away as the boulder got pulverized into smaller rocks a second later.

    He quickly readied his sword and channeled ardor into his body. He even activated his strand to face the malevolent force before him.

    The wind whistled around him as he activated Aeris and his eyes glowed, both with power and a determination to destroy the daemon facing him.

    Only for it to fizzle out when he laid eyes on his adversary.

    The imposing daemon loomed over him at a towering fourteen feet in height and in its hands, it held a giant war axe with a blade of his size.

    The young man''s body began to tremble under the aura released by the faceless being staring right at him.

    "Ah...ah," his voice quivered. The many ardimals he faced before are nothing compared to this thing.

    The daemon tilted its head and raised its axe, ready to strike down on the young man. He couldn''t move a single muscle as the deadly edge of the giant war axe filled his vision.

    "Hiek!" He closed his eyes and waited for his inevitable bloody end.

    But it didn''t happen.

    "Seriously. What is it with you guys tilting your heads at us? Are you that curious about humans or how they look after shoving an axe into their brains?"

    A young male voice filled with confidence and power drawled before him.

    He opened his eyes and was immediately blinded.

    So white!

    The figure standing between him and the daemon''s axe was clad in pure white clothes that blended with the heavy snowfall.

    It is as if he is looking at a ghost!

    He blinked again and realized it was a young man of his age.

    "You alright?" the young man clad in white glanced back and asked.

    The newbie was astounded by the beauty of his savior.

    Bright crimson eyes that glittered like rubies and messy hair the color of pure snow that perfectly blended with his beautiful face which gave off a slight feminine allure.

    His Deathwalker uniform was completely white with red accents. He wore a turtleneck instead of a t-shirt and his boots were white with red accents like the rest of his attire.

    This variation of the uniform fit snugly on his slim frame which looked rugged and delicate at the same time.

    Truly a beauty among men.

    But the biggest surprise was yet to come.

    The newbie''s eyes wandered upward and they widened in shock.

    The massive war axe of the daemon, stained by the blood of numerous Deathwalkers was completely held back by the hand of the crimson-eyed boy.

    A single drop of blood flowed out of his palm but instead of staining the pristine white sleeve of his half jacket, it kept on flowing down his arm.

    "One moment please," he said with an enchanting smile.

    The blood flowing on his arm halted and floated off his sleeve.

    It suddenly expanded and swirled rapidly to form a lance. In the blink of an eye, it shot forward and ripped a hole through the chest of the daemon.

    The blow was so powerful that it launched the now donut daemon into the air where it exploded into a ball of darkness.

    A wailing trail of crimson smoke erupted out of the darkness and went straight for the boy.

    The newbie shouted. "Watch out!"

    His savior will become a wraith!

    But what happened next would shock him to the core.

    The crimson smoke touched the body of the crimson-eyed young man and immediately exploded into a cloud of red powder with a wail of despair.

    "Ugh. I hate it when they do that!" the crimson-eyed young man exclaimed angrily and brushed off the powder from his jacket and turtleneck.

    The newbie gaped at him in absolute shock.

    Not only did this guy stop an attack from a daemon but he effortlessly destroyed it. He even stopped the wraith that tried to possess him.

    And to think, they were of the same age.

    "Is this what you call a genius?" the newbie wondered aloud.

    "What?" the young man queried, his crimson eyes gleaming like rubies, while blood swirled in a loop above his back.

    Eyes that glittered like rubies and a Haema user.

    The newbie had heard of this person.

    The one who attacked the heirs of three Axial Duchies during a royal party and subsequently dispatched to the north as punishment.

    The one mocked in noble circles and infamously called the Failed Prince.

    "No way," the newbie breathed. "Mordred Pendragon? You''re alive?"

    Mordred frowned. "What kind of a question is that? Of course, I am alive! Oh, and you''re welcome."

    "Ah! I''m sorry! Thank you for saving me, Your Highness!" the newbie exclaimed and bowed his head.

    The young Pendragon narrowed his eyes and the newbie felt like his entire being was being scrutinized.

    He felt like his soul lay exposed before those crimson eyes and a powerful presence enveloped him.

    He instinctively knew it. There is no longer the Failed Prince.

    The feeble prince had been devoured by the formidable force standing before him, the serpent that was Mordred Pendragon.

    "You''re a noble. Aren''t you?" The High Prince''s voice, smooth as honey yet underlaid with regal power, resonated, causing an involuntary flinch from the newbie.

    Those crimson eyes continued to hold him in an unyielding grip, and it made him shudder.

    ''So this is a High Prince,'' he thought and nodded. "Yes, your Highness. I am Timothy Vale hailing from the Baskerville Duchy!"

    "Baskerville huh? Interesting."

    Mordred nodded. "Pleasure to meet you, Tim. Rule number one of fighting in Blood Valley. Do not let your guard down."

    Timothy tilted his head and asked. "What do you mean, Your Highness?"

    The young Pendragon sighed. "Behind you."

    Suddenly alarmed, the young man turned around to see a seven-foot-tall daemon looking down at him.

    "Oh," was the only thing that came out of his mouth before he was cleaved in half by the daemon''s sword.

    Mordred sighed as the daemon stepped over the bloody halves of Timothy Vale and turned its head toward him.

    Two other daemons appeared on both sides of him, each standing at twelve feet tall, wielding a halberd and a greatsword.

    Both of them immediately swung their weapons at the young Deathwalker, aiming to kill him.

    But the weapons were abruptly halted by six long tentacles of blood with barbed tips.

    "I was starting to like that guy. Why did you have to kill him?" Mordred grumbled and looked from one daemon to another.

    "Two C-ranks and one beginner A-rank. This will be a bit tricky," he noted.

    Mordred''s lips curled into a maniacal grin and his crimson eyes glowed.

    "You guys are so fucking dead."

 50 I Do Some Flexing

    [Mordred]

    The greatsword and halberd clutched by the daemons quivered, attempting to slice through the sinuous blood tentacles sprouting from my back.

    Good luck with that fellas.

    They quickly withdrew and went for another strike.

    Only to hit nothing.

    I soared into the air right above them and before they could even turn their heads up, my blood tentacles lashed out.

    Two daemon heads rolled down into the bloody snow.

    Another flash of crimson and their chests were simultaneously torn open. I landed on the ground, their black abominable hearts in my tentacles as they staggered and exploded into darkness.

    The wails of two wraiths reverberated, the crimson smoke of their spirits hurtling towards me. Two tentacles deftly swatted them into red dust.

    The hearts of the two daemons dripping with black ooze disintegrated into smoky darkness.

    "Two C ranks down," I remarked, shifting my gaze toward the A-rank daemon.

    Except it wasn''t there.

    I felt a tingle beside me and instantly reacted.

    A resounding clang resonated in my ears, accompanied by a gust of wind that ruffled my hair.

    One of my tentacles, shimmering with blood, intercepted the daemon''s sword, preventing it from lopping off my head.

    The shimmering tentacle of blood struggled quite a bit against the daemon''s blade as it pushed against the appendage and I could feel its malevolent power seeping into my body

    I narrowed my eyes.

    "You are going to be quite the troublesome lad," I said, taking out my sword from my bracelet.

    Its pure white blade glinted sharply, the bright green single edge radiating an eerie glow reminiscent of a basilisk''s eye.

    I streamed ardor into my sword and the blade hissed like an angry serpent.

    I unleashed my aura and the knees of the daemon buckled.

    In a flicker, the daemon teleported a few feet away, tightly gripping its longsword.

    Nearby Deathwalkers yelped in surprise and newbies stumbled to the ground as my aura shook the very air and ground around a ten-meter radius.

    I can now effortlessly control the strength and range of my aura. With a smirk, I stopped releasing my aura and beckoned the daemon with my index finger.

    "Shall we dance?"

    The daemon flickered out of existence, and the next second, the glinting edge of its black longsword appeared, aimed directly at my throat.

    Swiftly activating transcendence, I casually leaned back as the blade seemed to be wielded by a frail old man with arthritis rather than a deadly A-ranked daemon.

    Without breaking a step, the daemon swung again, this time with a vertical slash intention turning me into a split banana like poor Tim.

    I shifted my body to the side and dodged again.

    Undeterred, the daemon unleashed a furious barrage of sword attacks.

    Each swing was met with efficient dodges and precise parries, my sword and tentacles dancing in tandem to deflect the onslaught.

    Each collision of our blades birthed a flurry of sparks and ardor, unleashing powerful shockwaves as we danced our way through the battlefield.

    Our dance echoed in symphony with the clashing of weapons, causing some inconvenience to the Deathwalkers we passed.

    "Oi! Watch it, Pendragon!" shouted an eyepatch-wearing female Deathwalker in her twenties, narrowly evading a massive hammer aimed at her head by the twenty-foot daemon she faced.

    "Sorry!", I yelled and got distracted for a second. The demon took its chance.

    It lunged and aimed a powerful thrust at my chest. I deftly blocked the attack, only to be launched into the air

    While airborne I caught a group of Deathwalkers surrounded by daemons in the corner of my eye.

    My gaze shifted to the daemon flickering as it closed the distance between us in the air.

    I stretched my free hand and channeled Haema.

    Crimson runes encircled my arm as blood swirled in multiple points around me in the air.

    {Haema: Vortex Bloodlances}

    The swirling blood transformed into rapidly spinning, two-meter-long lances that hurled toward the daemon with lethal precision.

    Twisting gracefully in midair, I aimed my body toward the group of Deathwalkers encircled by daemons.

    I quickly scanned the enemies and smiled.

    Five master C-ranks and four intermediate B-ranks.

    Transcendence is still active and so the world around me has slowed down.

    I quickly switched my sword with my bow, an ebony masterpiece of a weapon.

    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    Taking out five arrows with practiced ease, I aimed with precision and released.

    A whistling sound cut through the air, followed by the sound of the arrows hitting their targets, the daemons.

    I smirked and quickly glanced behind me. My daemon just sliced apart the last blood lance and turned its head at me.

    "Time to wrap this up."

    My blood tentacles seamlessly merged, forming massive wings of crimson. With a powerful flap, I shot toward the ground.

    Upon landing behind one of the daemons encircling the Deathwalkers, my wings split back into six tentacles and they surged forward on all sides.

    In an instant, six daemons found barbed blood spikes sprouting from their chests, while three other daemons discovered their bodies intertwined by a pulsating blood tentacle.

    Swiftly lifting them up, I turned around to face the A-rank daemon.

    "A small gift from me.", I called out and flung the convulsing daemons at my playmate.

    "Scram!" I yelled at the Deathwalkers I had just saved.

    Understanding the urgency, they immediately scattered as nine balls of darkness exploded in the air.

    Nine columns of crimson smoke rushed at me, filling the air with their horrible wailing.

    My blood tentacles shot forward and turned them all into red dust.

    As it turns out, I am immune to the possession of wraiths. The blood of the Pendragon Family is special.

    Those with the blood of Pendragon coursing through their veins are immune to virtually every type of poison, curse, and possession.

    Perhaps it''s because the royal family is the direct descendants of a powerful dragon.

    And since dragons are the ultimate lifeforms, they are immune to all diseases, curses, and even natural death.

    Huh. Finally, something good came out of being the child of Arthur.

    Okay. Let''s get back to my awesome fight.

    Amidst the dispersing darkness, I caught a glimpse of black metal and swiftly drew my sword.

    In an instant, the A-ranked daemon, seemingly unfazed by the explosive deaths of its kind, appeared before me with a mighty downward slash.

    I stepped back and blocked the attack.

    The impact generated a powerful shockwave that blew away the crimson snow around us.

    The daemon turned its head at its sword suppressed by mine and then to my face.

    I looked up at the swirling darkness that replaced its face and a small smile tugged at my mouth.

    Swiftly sliding my blade against its black sword, I lunged forward with a jab enhanced by ardor.

    The daemon reacted quickly and jumped away from the range of my sword.

    No way I am letting you go that easy.

    Blood surged along the green edge of my sword, propelling like a cannon at the daemon.

    Caught off guard, the daemon barely deflected the high-speed blood projectile and was pushed back by the force.

    I leaned forward and shot toward the daemon.

    In an instant, I was before it and swung downwards diagonally.

    The daemon immediately blocked it and the snow beneath our feet scattered as the ground cracked from the unleashed power.

    It swiftly jumped back and immediately lunged at me.

    The billowing darkness enveloping its body wafted to and fro as the daemon unleashed its deadly skills with its sword.

    The daemon was swift and precise and executed each movement with utmost efficiency.

    A shower of sparks and an explosion of darkness and ardor rippled through the air every time its black blade clashed with the white blade of my sword.

    I gritted my teeth and was forced to admit its undeniable prowess with the sword.

    Each strike of the daemon is filled with the power of an A-ranked being.

    That means each strike is an act of pure devastation. This daemon could effortlessly overpower a Captain with its formidable sword mastery.

    However, I smirked.

    But I am way superior to this walking bag of smoke.

    And I have regained all of the experience and skills of my past life in these three years.

    And I feel good.

    So I retracted my blood tentacles, deactivated transcendence and unleashed hell.

    Countering every single strike from the daemon, I skillfully deflected each attack back at the creature.

    The daemon unleashed a deadly diagonal slash on me.

    I deflected it and flicked my wrist, dealing a quick and lethal horizontal slash.

    The daemon quickly blocked it but I wasn''t done. With another flick of the wrist, my sword went down vertically.

    Maintaining the relentless onslaught, I seamlessly changed the path of my sword with each strike.

    The daemon began to falter and struggle against the rain of white blades.

    Dark ooze spurted out of numerous wounds all over the daemon''s body as my sword dispersed the billowing darkness covering it.

    With each strike, my blade cut through its tough black flesh like a hot knife through butter.

    Whenever it flickered and backed away to make distance, I surged forward and increased the intensity of my attacks.

    No way I am letting you leave, you fucking bag of black ooze.

    I activated Haema and accelerated my blood, boosting my body and senses.

    Planting my feet firmly, the ground crumbled underneath the force of my power.

    Twenty-one slashes in ten seconds.

    Let''s double that, shall we?

    Black ooze spurted, billowing darkness dispersed, and the clanging of weapons shredded the silence that enveloped the daemon as my sword overwhelmed it.

    A black armored leg of billowing darkness was the first to be sliced off and was soon followed by the remaining limbs.

    Limbs dropped to the ground, splashing black ooze everywhere, and dispersed into darkness.

    Standing before the daemon, slightly out of breath, I looked down at the faceless visage of the daemon, now reduced to a head and a torso, somehow still standing upright.

    Black ooze slid off my uniform and changed the shade of the snow around me from deep crimson to black.

    "That was a good fight," I said between breaths and lopped off the daemon''s head.

    Even as the torso flopped to the ground, the stumps of the severed limbs were already regenerating.

    I opened my palm and channeled Haema to it.

    A circle of runes materialized, hovering above my palm as my blood accumulated at its center, swirling rapidly.

    {Haema: Blood Grenade}

    I dropped the small glowing ball of blood on the torso and stepped back.

    A powerful explosion of crimson followed by a ball of darkness signaled the end of the A-rank daemon.

    The spirit of the wraith rushed at me only to be reduced to red dust.

    As I turned around, a powerful aura pressed down on me. A purplish-black smoke suddenly wrapped around my neck and began to tighten.

    I attempted to grab the smoke, but it condensed into a cord of glowing purple and tightened further.

    I dropped to my knees and struggled to breathe.

    I looked beside me and saw a daemon holding a scepter topped with a purple orb that glowed brightly.

    Its clawed fingers clenched, and with each tightening of its fist, the cord around my neck constricted.

    Damnit! I forgot to look out for these guys.

    Just like there are three types of warlocks, there are three types of daemons.

    The one trying to strangle me to death is called a Sorcerer. These guys are a nuisance in battle and a pain in the ass to kill.

    My vision began to blur, and I crouched over, desperately trying to break the cord and struggling to breathe.

    Typically, this would be an instant kill move. The only reason I am still alive is because of my high status as a warlock.

    I would''ve been a goner if this had happened three years ago. Not even plot armor could have saved me.

    Just as the daemon sorcerer was about to choke the life out of me, another powerful aura shook the air.

    Instantly, two long spikes of solid darkness impaled the sorcerer in the chest, killing it in an explosion of darkness and the dying wails of a dissipating wraith.

    The cord immediately dissipated, leaving a faint mark on my neck. I hacked and coughed, taking in a lungful of frigid mountain air.

    Incarni! That felt good.

    As I recovered my breath, I heard a familiar voice.

    "Good thing I came just in time! Is this what they call plot armor in books and movies?"

    I looked up and witnessed a truly heavenly sight.

    Floating in the air with the aid of massive wings reminiscent of a fairy''s and donned in a sleek, all-black uniform similar to mine, which accentuated her slim figure, was Iris Karsus.

    Her long black hair transitioning into bright blue glittered in the sunlight and snowy background of the valley, making the blue ends glow.

    Shimmering black runes encircled her arms as she summoned more massive pikes and impaled another two daemons nearby.

    Her deep blue eyes glowed with power and she smiled mischievously.

    "I didn''t know you enjoyed getting choked," she teased, looking down at me with a playful expression and pressing a finger to her smiling lips.

    "Oh my. How kinky."

 51 What Next? I Havent The Foggiest Idea!

    "Ow! That stings!" I yelped as the healer slapped a gauze soaked in alcohol onto a cut on my arm.

    "Oh, don''t be a child!" she snapped. "You''ve suffered worse."

    I winced. "I know, Miss Casey, but it''s still rubbing alcohol on an open, gaping wound."

    "Why not just heal it directly?" I questioned.

    Casey, the healer, huffed. "Don''t want any nasty microbes infecting the area after I close up the wound!"

    "Besides, why are you even here? With your strand, this wound could be closed in the blink of an eye!" she retorted.

    I scratched my cheek with a sheepish grin. "Wounds caused by daemons take longer for me to heal. I would''ve let my strand do the healing, but Iris nagged me to come to Althea and fix the wound."

    "She specifically told me to come to you," I added, looking at Miss Casey.

    Understanding dawned on the healer''s face. Her lips curled into an excited smile, and a crazy glint appeared in her eyes.

    "Oho! I see the Fairy of Tenebris has come through with her promise."

    I suddenly had a bad feeling about this. "What do you mean, Miss Casey?"

    She gave me a smile that made every instinct in my body scream to get away. "I just completed my special alcohol mixture that eradicates one hundred percent of germs!"

    "It is a tad bit painful, though."

    I was at the door in the blink of an eye.

    Deathwalkers aren''t the only ones in the Shield cracked in the head!

    Just as I was about to open it and escape, I found myself unable to move.

    Glancing down, I noticed thin vines tightly wrapped around my body. Despite my attempts to break free, these vines sapped my energy, rendering me powerless against their grip.

    Plus, they are bloody tough.

    "Where are you running off to, my pretty little test subject?" the master A-ranked healer, Casey, asked in a sweet voice.

    My eye twitched as I grasped for the door handle while being dragged back by the vines and into her embrace.

    Iris! You''re fucking dead!

    *******

    The redness and stinging on my skin had faded by the time I reached the door to my room.

    Blood swirled around my open hand, taking the form of a spike.

    I took a deep breath and opened the door.

    "Oh, hey Mordred! How was your treatment?" Iris asked with a sly smile, her deep blue eyes glinting with mischief.

    "Wonderful," I replied and hurled the blood spike at her head.

    Iris casually moved her head and the spike hit the wall beside her bed, splattering blood all over it.

    "Didn''t know we were due for repainting," she smirked, casually swinging her legs up and down as she lay on her bed.

    Our room was quite spacious, about the same size as mine in the Dawn Palace. Designed for high-ranking Deathwalkers, it exuded luxury with two plush queen-sized beds adorned with fluffy pillows, spacious wardrobes seamlessly built into the walls, and a splendid bathroom that rivaled only those in the Dawn Palace. Complete with a large, slim, curved-screen TV accompanied by the latest game console and adjustable lights with light strips.

    It''s quite the sweet deal, right?

    Speaking of high-ranking Deathwalkers, Iris is now the Captain of Unit 21 and I have become the vice-captain. Quite the promotion in just three years.

    I''m just that amazing.

    Anyway.

    I glared at Iris. She had changed from her Deathwalker uniform to a simple t-shirt and shorts that accentuated her slim and well-proportioned figure. The scars on her beautiful long legs were quite vivid.

    Like me, she also made sure not to have any scars on her face, claiming that a scar on her face would increase her beauty and could cause trouble with her increased popularity.

    Seriously. How deluded can one be?

    "What was that about? Sending me to Miss Casey?" I demanded.

    "Ah," she gave me an innocent smile. "Miss Casey wanted someone to test her new alcoholic formula on. She wanted someone with a high pain tolerance."

    I narrowed my eyes. "You have a high pain tolerance."

    She sighed. "Alas! Only you and I possess the required pain tolerance. But you are my best friend! How can I let you be her guinea pig?"

    "So, as I was ready to volunteer, I saw you with a nasty gash on your arm. It was quite convenient! So, I urged you to visit Miss Casey."

    Iris grinned. "In the end, you both benefited. Your healed wound is now a hundred percent germ-free, and Miss Casey was able to test her new formula."

    Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    "Also, it was payback for replacing my toothpaste with extra hot chili paste the previous week," she added, her grin turning into a menacing smile.

    Hearing that, I couldn''t help but smirk. "Yeah. You were quite refreshed. Fiery, I must say."

    "But Miss Casey''s special mixture was worse than the chili paste. It stung worse than a daemon''s blade."

    "Must''ve been quite refreshing," she mockingly repeated my words.

    My eye twitched. "Bitch."

    "Jerk," Iris retorted.

    The temperature dropped, and the air shook as Bloodlust from us clashed in the room.

    She tilted her head. "By the way. How did you swap them without my notice?"

    I smiled. "You have a habit of brushing in the dark. So, I used that to my advantage."

    "Ah," she shrugged. "I guess we are even now."

    Our Bloodlust dissipated and she rolled on her back, picked up a novel, and began reading it. "You are going to stay in that uniform? It reeks of blood."

    I looked at the sleeve of my pristine white jacket and sniffed it.

    She is right. My uniform is special, made of a material that repels blood and other nasty fluids, but the metallic smell of blood lingers on it.

    As for how I got this special material, well, it only took a lot of draigos I earned as a Deathwalker and the friendship with Dorothy Lorvar, the owner of Lorvar''s Arsenal and probably the best ardor seamstress in the north.

    "Ugh. You''re right," I said and began to take off my jacket and turtleneck.

    Iris just glanced at me and continued to read her novel.

    Staying in the same room had made us get used to a lot of things, one of them being changing while the other was there in the room.

    But this time, I was sure she blushed.

    I stood in front of the mirror and gazed at my reflection.

    It''s been three years since I became a Deathwalker, and I have changed a lot.

    My body is no longer the delicate and weak vessel into which I woke up.

    It is now toned and shredded with significant muscle development, a testament to the training and workouts I underwent for three years.

    My snow-white hair now reached the base of my neck, as messy as always, and my crimson eyes were starting to resemble jewels.

    And the best part? I am now taller than Iris! Yay!

    Not only have I become physically stronger, but my ardor control has also increased by leaps and bounds.

    I am now an intermediate A-rank Linker. My speed of growth is absolutely terrifying, as I jumped from D-rank to A-rank in just three years.

    To give you some perspective about my insane growth, Iris is now at the peak of A-rank, just one step away from being an S-ranker. She was a beginner A-rank three years ago.

    This doesn''t mean that I am now stronger than Iris. We may be of the same rank, but she can still kick my ass.

    This time, she needs more effort.

    Anyway, back to yours truly.

    My aura is now way larger than before, and due to my excellent and precise ardor control, I can effortlessly manipulate the intensity of aura I can unleash along with the size of the area I can unleash it upon.

    That means I can even completely suppress my aura when needed.

    But power and muscles aren''t the only things I accumulated in these three years.

    My eyes lowered to the numerous scars that marred every inch of my fair skin on my body.

    Scars crisscrossed my shoulders, arms, and legs, concealed beneath my pants.

    Wounds caused by daemons leave scars that never fade away.

    Over these three years, I lost all of my limbs, got paralyzed, extensively damaged a majority of my organs, and got stabbed daily more times than a certain Roman emperor from my past world.

    Oh, I even got nearly decapitated one time.

    As my finger traced the scar above my collarbones that spanned my entire neck, memories of that day flooded back.

    If Iris hadn''t rushed me to Althea in time, I might be resting eternally inside the Tomb.

    Oh Incarni. Iris.

    That was one of the many instances where I saw genuine concern in her eyes.

    Ever since that hunt three years ago, we''ve shared numerous experiences together.

    We pranked each other and other Deathwalkers, engaged in spirited sparring sessions, and supported each other on the battlefield.

    Alongside these moments, we played games, explored the mountains, and created cherished memories in the midst of this chaotic hell on Asteris.

    I served as her navigation guide, working alongside Minerva, and together, we navigated through countless wacky situations.

    We were quite the troublemakers in Necropolis, often called the Chaotic Duo.

    As I reflected on these crazy memories, a wistful smile crossed my face.

    The three years spent with Iris, Dorothy, Damien, my Unit mates, and the many friends I made in the Shield surpassed the entirety of my old life, even with the daily threat of death.

    When I shared this sentiment with Eravon during one of his dream visits, he remarked that reincarnating me in this body was undoubtedly a good decision.

    My visits with him are less frequent now that I have become strong enough not to pass out on the battlefield.

    But I am grateful to him. Eravon stands as the best teacher I''ve ever had.

    Perhaps living for thousands of years can make someone quite an experienced teacher.

    In just a few months, my sentence will be over and I will be free.

    But what would I do after that?

    Until now, my only goal was to survive in Blood Valley, never contemplating life beyond this harsh realm.

    Heck, I hadn''t even expected to make it this far.

    But now I don''t feel like leaving this place. Yet.

    No, it''s not because I suddenly feel like I belong here, or that society wouldn''t easily accept a Deathwalker or any of that bullshit.

    The truth is, Iris has one more year left in her five-year sentence to the Shield, and I don''t want to part ways with her.

    I want both of us to leave this place together.

    After three years of watching each other''s backs and sharing numerous crazy experiences, I''ve started to suspect that my feelings of friendship toward her have evolved into something more.

    I mean, Iris is beautiful, funny, absolutely chaotic, shameless, and downright crazy.

    But beneath all of that bundle of chaos, she is also kind and strong-willed.

    And I have a feeling I''m not the only one with butterflies in the stomach.

    Lately, I noticed Iris stealing glances at me and even giving death glares to other female Deathwalkers my age who approach me.

    Heh. Aren''t I a popular guy?

    As these thoughts swirled in my head, I heard her voice behind me.

    "My, I am having the sudden urge to tie you to the ceiling by the arms and wrap my legs around that body," Iris spoke slyly.

    I raised my eyebrows and turned to her.

    "Who''s the kinky one now?"

 52 Perry And Basil

    "Did you get caught trying to sneak into Floor 52?" I asked with a sly grin.

    Iris responded with a disgruntled nod, "Yeah. The Deathwalkers guarding the area politely asked me to leave the premises��with their weapons."

    "Apparently, we are still banned from the red light area of Necropolis. It''s absolutely ridiculous!" she exclaimed.

    "I mean, we''re old enough now!"

    I sighed, "Jeez. I think you should dial down your fascination with dark romance and ease up on those explicit adult magazines."

    "But they are so entertaining!" Iris protested.

    I couldn''t help but agree. They do have a certain allure.

    "I can''t help but wonder if your somewhat creepy antics got us banned from the 52nd floor," I mused.

    "You''re really asking for an ass-whupping, aren''t you?"

    "Try me."

    Another stare-off coupled with Bloodlust followed before Iris sighed.

    "There''s another reason we are banned from the red light area. Felix."

    I was puzzled, "Felix?"

    She nodded, "He ensured we wouldn''t even come close to the main gates of the red-light area."

    "He''s still messing with us from beyond the grave," she sighed.

    I chuckled, "Classic Felix move."

    A somber pause filled the air as we both thought about Felix and his infectious smile.

    "I really miss him," I spoke softly.

    "Same," Iris nodded, her gaze fixed on me. "As I said, he was the brother I wish I had."

    Another quiet moment enveloped us until I broke the silence.

    "So, any plans for today?" I asked, slipping into a casual t-shirt and track pants.

    "Absolutely," Iris nodded, setting her novel aside. She brushed back her hair, revealing the silver piercings on her left ear. "Dorothy called. Master Lorvar has finished servicing our mechanimas. We can go collect them."

    An excited smile spread across my lips. It had been days since my mechanima was badly damaged during a battle against the daemons.

    "Basil is fixed? Awesome! Master Lorvar is the god of crafters!"

    Iris chuckled, "Somebody is excited to see their pet again."

    I looked at her, "Is that all?"

    "No," she said, "We have a new batch of recruits arriving in the evening. You and I are tasked with welcoming them."

    I furrowed my brow, "Us? Welcoming newbies? Minerva only assigns us that task when��"

    "The new batch of recruits contain powerful warlocks," Iris finished my sentence, conjuring up a holographic screen from her wrist that displayed a list of names and ranks.

    She looked fairly impressed, "This is a formidable group. Most of them might make it through the first day."

    "And according to Minerva, some of them have ''unique'' personalities, and all are very proud. They can be quite a handful," she looked at me with sparkling eyes and a mischievous grin.

    "You know what this means, right?"

    I nodded, my lips curling into a smile mirroring hers, "Time to tame some wild hounds."

    *******

    "I honestly feel terrible for the incoming newbies, and I haven''t even met them."

    Dorothy sighed as she leaned against the counter. Three years had done little to diminish her captivating beauty; if anything, she seemed more alluring than ever.

    Dorothy gazed at me with her dreamy teal eyes, "I suppose this batch is quite the wild one if they''re summoning the Captain and Vice-captain of the Lunatics."

    "Heh. I guess that is what Minerva is aiming for. Deal crazy with even crazier," Iris chuckled.

    "So. Who is crazier? Me or Iris?" I jokingly asked.

    Dorothy placed an elegant finger on her lips and pondered the question.

    "It is difficult to come up with a straight answer," she shook her head, "But that''s a topic for another day. Your mechanimas have been repaired."

    Our eyes lit up when she mentioned our mechanical partners.

    "Master Lorvar fixed Basil this quickly?" I marveled at the ability and speed of the master crafter.

    "Basil was the tricky one since she had morphium. Fortunately, my old man had experience with morphium from upgrading your daggers."

    Morphium, an incredibly versatile artificial material, was discovered by Merlin two years ago. With the correct sequence of runes, it can change both its shape and properties.

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    For example, Master Lorvar upgraded my white daggers with morphium. Now I can join them to form my sword.

    And the best part? The morphium has blended seamlessly with the Moon silver and powdered basilisk emerald without altering them in the slightest.

    Truly a miraculous creation!

    "So, who''s eager to reclaim their mechanima first?" Dorothy asked with a playful smile.

    "Me!" Iris burst out before I could even open my mouth.

    "What are you? A kid?" I raised an eyebrow at her.

    She pouted, "I''m the Captain, so naturally, I should get priority!"

    "Where did that come from?" I crossed my arms.

    "Besides. Perry was more damaged," Iris added.

    "Basil almost got her head torn off!" I retorted.

    We bickered back and forth until Dorothy released her aura in a powerful burst, shaking the entire shop. That shut both of us up.

    "I suppose I''ll retrieve both of your mechanimas," she said with a sweet smile that sent shivers down my spine.

    She flashed the same dangerous smile at Iris, and the teal-eyed beauty turned around to go to the storeroom.

    "You made her snap," I remarked to Iris as Dorothy disappeared behind the doorway.

    "Excuse me?" She looked scandalized and was about to reignite the bickering when Dorothy''s voice from beyond the doorway froze our bodies.

    "You''ll be tasting a flaming goose hammer if you guys start bickering again. Believe me, I have a lot in the storeroom."

    "Why do you have so many goose hammers?" I blurted out before receiving a sharp blow from Iris''s elbow.

    "Don''t provoke her!" she hissed.

    "Fine," I grumbled and rubbed my sore side.

    After a few minutes of trying hard not to play around with the deadly weapons on display, Dorothy emerged from the storeroom holding our mechanimas.

    Yeah, our mechanimas are small enough to be held in the hand.

    I know you all expected me to have a wolf or a lion, but sometimes smaller mechanimas are far more practical.

    But that doesn''t mean our mechanimas should be underestimated.

    Perched on Dorothy''s arm, appearing as if it was asleep, was a big silver falcon mechanima.

    A truly breathtaking marvel of craftsmanship that perfectly resembled an actual falcon.

    Its exterior is adorned with intricately designed silver feathers, carefully engineered to mimic the natural flow and pattern found on a living falcon.

    Each silver feather is meticulously designed for aerodynamic efficiency, ensuring optimal flight performance.

    Between the many silver feathers, extremely lightweight metallic plates rest on a carbon fiber skeleton, subtly peeking out.

    Crafted from Moon silver, these feathers are exceptionally sharp and capable of inflicting deep cuts on the bodies of the daemons.

    They can be recalled and seamlessly reattached to the wing without disturbing the mechanima''s flight, thanks to the compact yet powerful actuators and motors embedded into the skeleton.

    Crafted from the rare Moon Silver, its sharp silver beak and serrated talons bestowed the mechanima with a regal yet deadly allure.

    An intricate masterpiece that is both beautiful and lethal.

    Iris''s eyes lit up, "Perry!"

    As if activated by her voice, which it was, a soft azure glow permeated through its silver feathers, and tiny valves opened beneath them.

    A soft whirring of gears and the creaking of metallic plates, accompanied by the subtle movement of the carbon fiber skeleton, signaled the awakening of the mechanima.

    It opened its silver eyelids, revealing glowing blue eyes that sparkled like sapphires, exuding a surprising intelligence.

    Seeming a bit disoriented, it glanced around before fixing its glowing azure eyes on Iris.

    Actuators buzzed as the falcon extended its huge wings, each spanning more than a meter in length.

    With a mechanical squawk, it gracefully launched from Dorothy''s arm, knocking over a few weapons as it soared around the shop.

    Finally, it landed on Iris''s arm. For some peculiar reason, Perry appeared to share Iris''s directional challenges.

    I don''t know how that is even possible.

    Like master, like mechanima, I guess.

    Perry emitted some adorable mechanical clicks as he affectionately pecked at Iris''s piercings.

    She laughed, "It''s good to see you, buddy."

    I grinned, "Glad to see you back in action, Perry. How is the wing?"

    Perry turned his head to me and raised his right wing with another mechanical squawk.

    Mechanimas exhibit a surprising level of intelligence, often surpassing their organic counterparts.

    Perry was meticulously crafted to resemble a Moon Falcon, a rare species of ardimal well-known for its exceptional intelligence.

    He easily comprehends human commands, no matter how complex, and swiftly makes decisions in heated situations without any assistance from Iris.

    Perry not only remembers faces but also exhibits likes and dislikes. It is as if the mechanima is a sentient being.

    Many attribute this self-awareness to the advanced artificial intelligence of the mechanimas, while others believe it originates from the ardor processed in their primal cores.

    A Primal Core is an advanced iteration of the Infinity Engine. It absorbs ardor from the environment through multiple valves and processes it to power the mechanima.

    Since ardor is living energy, it is believed that the ardor processed in the primal core of a mechanima imparts a form of consciousness to the automaton, even linking with its artificial intelligence.

    This linking of AI with ardor is what is believed to imbue mechanima with a form of self-awareness.

    And that concludes our technical lesson on mechanima.

    Thousand draigos, please. This lesson ain''t free

    Anyway. Dorothy looked miffed about Perry knocking over the weapons on display, but she regained her composure and sighed.

    "Dad mentioned that it would take some time for Perry to adjust to the new actuators and wing. Make sure you don''t overexert him in the coming days," she advised.

    Iris nodded, "Sure! Whatever Master Lorvar says!"

    Dorothy then turned to me, "Now for Basil."

    "We almost lost her, but my old man didn''t give up. He toiled for hours in the Workshop and was finally able to bring her back online."

    "You better erect an altar for my old man with the engravings ''The god of Crafters'' at the base," she said, placing my mechanima on the counter.

    At first glance, it resembled a white bracelet shaped like a form of ouroboros, a white snake coiled and biting its tail.

    The craftsmanship and detail were impeccable. The white metallic interlocking scales and segments were more intricate than Perry''s feathers.

    Two small emeralds were carefully embedded into the head for eyes, and one could make out furled fangs between the tail and the mouth of the serpent.

    I gently caressed the head of the snake and softly uttered, "Basil. Wake up."

    The emerald eyes of the serpent glowed to life, and a vibrant green light pulsed between the numerous scales along its body.

    With a mechanical hiss, the serpent opened its mouth, releasing its tail and unfurling its body. Its tiny metallic scales shifted and undulated, gracefully straightening its serpentine form.

    The body of the small mechanical serpent measured about sixty centimeters in length and was as thick as a highlighter pen. About the size of a garter snake.

    Its tail was adorned with a pointed spike that faintly glowed with the green hue of its primal core.

    The serpent shook its small, blunt, triangular head and let out a tiny yawn, revealing two-inch-long fangs that resembled clear crystal.

    The white serpent mechanima turned its head toward me, recognition glinting in its lidless glowing green eyes. Closing its fanged mouth, it happily flicked its tongue at me.

    As I stretched out my arm, the white mechanical serpent slithered like an actual snake onto it, coiling its flexible metallic body around my arm.

    Just like Perry, Basil emitted some cute sound clicks as she rubbed her cute head against my cheek when I brought her close to my face.

    I chuckled, "I missed you too, Basil."

    I''m sure you''re all thinking, ''What can such a tiny serpent do?''

    Allow me to unveil the true beauty of my Basil.

    As I gently placed my arm down, Basil gracefully slithered onto the counter. Her sophisticated network of tiny hydraulics and servo motors flawlessly mimicked the flexibility of a real snake.

    I glanced at Dorothy, "Can I?"

    She shrugged, "Go on."

    Even Iris looked excited as if she was expecting something.

    I smiled and looked at my mechanima. "Basil. Expand."

 53 Mechanima Face Off

    "Basil. Expand."

    As I uttered these words, Basil initiated her transformation.

    Bright green runes appeared along her body, and her metallic scales shimmered.

    The segments forming her body gracefully shifted and extended.

    Her sleek and petite form elongated as the metal morphed, unveiling concealed segments and mechanisms that multiplied and transformed before being veiled by the undulating metallic scales.

    The green glow emanating from beneath the scales intensified. Tiny gears and servo motors hummed in unison as Basil''s body extended and thickened.

    In just a minute, the white serpent mechanima underwent a breathtaking transformation, morphing from the size of a garter snake to that of a large cobra, stretching about six meters in length and as thick as my arm.

    With a more powerful hiss, Basil yawned again, revealing clear crystalline fangs now double their previous length.

    The white metallic scales covering her sleek body shimmered, and the green glow of her primal core subtly peeked through the gaps between the scales.

    Adorning the tip of her tail was a serrated blade crafted from Moon silver, its edge embellished with powdered basilisk emerald.

    I couldn''t help but be in awe of the magnificent mechanima sprawled on the counter before me.

    No matter how many times I witnessed her transformation, it never failed to take my breath away.

    "Still a beauty," Dorothy chuckled, gently stroking the mechanical serpent''s head. Basil flicked her tongue and emitted a satisfied hiss.

    "I''m definitely not jealous," Iris said, wearing an envious expression as she observed Basil.

    Perry gave an angry squawk, unfurling his massive wings and quivering his enchanting silver feathers in a display of intimidation.

    His glowing sapphire eyes bore into the white serpent. Basil responded with a powerful hiss, lifting her body and revealing her fangs.

    She constantly shifted her scales, producing a quivering effervescent noise, and her glowing emerald eyes locked onto the silver falcon.

    The air crackled as the two powerful mechanimas faced each other.

    For some reason, Basil and Perry couldn''t stand each other, and their rivalry was evident in their intense competitiveness.

    Typically, they would intimidate each other during sparring practice and on the battlefield.

    But this time, the tension escalated within Dorothy''s store.

    And matters only got worse.

    Perry took to the air, flapping his powerful wings and releasing strong gusts of wind that rattled the weapons on display and sent papers and catalogs fluttering off the counter.

    In response, Basil extended her body to a whopping eight meters, towering over us and escalating the already charged atmosphere.

    Her powerful hiss reverberated throughout the store, shaking the ground and filling the space with the quivering of her scales.

    "Basil! Calm down!"

    "Perry! Stop it!"

    Iris and I frantically tried to pacify the two mechanimas. The commotion drew the attention of other Deathwalkers, and many of them observed the confrontation through the front windows of the store.

    I looked at Dorothy for help, but she just shrugged.

    "They''re your mechanima. Deal with them."

    Iris and I exchanged looks and nodded. Channeling ardor into our voices, we spoke loudly in unison.

    "Enough!"

    The entire store rumbled as a wave of ardor swept over the mechanima, immediately subduing them.

    Basil and Perry retreated under the weight of our commanding presence, with Basil even reverting to her diminutive form and clumsily slithering towards me.

    She appeared so pitiful that a pang of guilt washed over me.

    "Just take a brief rest," I sighed, kneeling to the ground and extending my arm.

    The little mechanima coiled around my wrist, her scales blending seamlessly with my white sleeve.

    She gave me one more nod with her small head and bit her tail, fashioning a sort of bracelet that looked quite stylish on my arm.

    "I think I want you to be the size of a sparrow," Iris mused as Perry awkwardly waddled over to her, looking as pitiful as Basil with his round blue eyes.

    Iris sighed, "Fine. You are excused. Just don''t repeat it."

    Perry gave a happy mechanical squawk and gracefully flew to her shoulder.

    The Deathwalkers who were watching the tense face-off resumed their activities, going back to whatever Deathwalkers do in their free time between battles.

    "Sorry about that," I apologized to Dorothy. Iris apologized as well.

    Dorothy grinned, "It''s all good. That was quite entertaining." Her gaze swept across the store.

    "Although, I''d appreciate a hand in tidying up. You still have time until the newbies arrive, right?"

    Iris and I nodded simultaneously.

    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

    "Of course, we''ll help!"

    *******

    "Ow! I should''ve worn my gloves!" I rubbed my palms together, attempting to stave off the biting cold wind of the mountain that seeped through the hole in my right palm.

    "My, Princess Elaine must''ve had some sadistic friends. That hole looks more agonizing than the rest of the scars on your body," Iris quipped, her gaze shifting to my palm.

    "It stings when the cold air passes through the hole," I grumbled.

    "Any chance of healing it? It''s not a scar from a daemon, you know? There are treatments to heal this type of permanent wound," she suggested.

    I shrugged, "Meh. I think I''ll keep this to remind me of my past weakness."

    "Weird," Iris frowned and then shrugged, "But hey. Your choice."

    Standing at the airfield on the other side of the Shield, we were dressed in our Deathwalker uniforms, patiently awaiting the arrival of the new recruits.

    Basil remained coiled around my wrist, and Perry gracefully circled in the air.

    Various military aircraft dotted the airfield, including cargo airplanes, air carriers, and various helicopters.

    Not far from us, technicians were busy working on an attack helicopter.

    They are usually used for patrolling the area around the Tear and to make sure nothing nasty enters the area or even leaves the area.

    Accompanied by drones controlled by Minerva, they remain airborne almost indefinitely, only landing for maintenance and ardor crystal replacements in their infinity engines.

    Charon 1 and Charon 2, the air carriers used to transport the deceased, were being filled with caskets containing the remains of yesterday''s fallen Deathwalkers.

    No matter how often I witnessed it, the sight of these airborne vessels of death left me unsettled.

    Those two airships serve as a grim reminder of the high death toll in Blood Valley and the inevitability of the Tomb in a Deathwalker''s existence.

    Speaking of the Tomb, the colossal mountain used to house the remains of Deathwalkers without families loomed in the distance, its cold and imposing form concealing the remains of possibly a million Deathwalkers.

    As snow began to fall, Charon 1 activated its engines. With a powerful gust of wind, it lifted off the ground and made its way toward the mountain of the dead, now covered by clouds and mist.

    It was soon followed by Charon 2. The smaller craft turned toward the mainland, accompanied by a helicopter escort, bearing the remains of Deathwalkers at the behest of their grieving families.

    Those Deathwalkers will be hailed as heroes by the people, but in reality, a majority of them were fools who got themselves killed.

    "It''s funny, isn''t it? When a Deathwalker dies, they are hailed as a hero, when, in reality, they died a truly idiotic death. Yet, when a surviving Deathwalker leaves the Shield after serving their sentence, they are treated as murderers and social pariahs," Iris remarked as if she had read my mind.

    She scoffed, "The people prefer us dead over alive."

    "Sometimes I wonder why we even fight and die for these sheltered idiots who abhor our very existence."

    I couldn''t help but kind of agree with her.

    Deathwalkers receive no kindness from the general population, and this is one of the primary reasons only a handful of them opt to leave the Shield.

    However, all are haunted by the nightmares they experienced in Blood Valley. Furthermore, each Deathwalker carries the mental scars of their experiences.

    Among those who leave, some are unable to cope with the nightmares and take their lives.

    For them, a quick slice of the wrist or the tightening of the noose around one''s neck seems a better fate than living with relentless nightmares.

    Others descend into madness, finding themselves confined to psychiatric hospitals, where they endure a lifetime of constant mental anguish before dying in pitiable circumstances.

    Some embrace their descent into madness, evolving into crazed killers or the darkest criminals.

    The harsh truth remains that your life is irreversibly marred the moment you step into the Shield.

    Only a handful of Deathwalkers remain strong, striving to lead normal lives despite the profound fractures in their minds and souls.

    But even they are not entirely free from the haunting specters of their demons.

    As these somber thoughts swirled in my mind, I heard Iris''s voice.

    "Hey. The fresh meatsuits are here."

    I followed her gaze into the sky and couldn''t help but whistle at the impressive sight.

    The silhouette of a massive object created a substantial blot in the mist, steadily enlarging as it approached.

    Soon the mist parted to reveal a massive air carrier, slowly and gracefully navigating between the mountain peaks as it made its way to the airfield.

    Escorted by a squadron of attack helicopters, it presented an impressive spectacle in the sky.

    "No matter how many times I see it, it is still awesome," I remarked as the massive craft stopped midair and hovered above the airfield.

    Its powerful thrusters scattered the snow and shook the ground beneath.

    The Argo. Among the largest aircraft globally, engineered to transport substantial cargo and even passengers across vast distances.

    Fitted with massive infinity engines, the Argo boasts the capability to circumnavigate the globe many times for an entire week at full power without refueling.

    In a stationary hover, it can remain airborne for a month.

    Filled to the nose with state-of-the-art technology, this particular model operates fully automated under Minerva''s control, with a highly skilled crew for vigilant monitoring.

    That is how impressive this behemoth is.

    All hail the future!

    "You got the list?" I asked Iris as the massive craft descended slowly, softly landing on the tarmac.

    "Yep. I''ll send it to you."

    My bracelet and smartphone chimed as she sent the list. I accessed it and my bracelet projected a holographic display showing the list of newbies.

    "This is quite the list," I remarked.

    "About a hundred newbies. Quite a small number to use the Argo, though."

    "There''s a lot of cargo," Iris quipped.

    Good one, Iris.

    "Okay," I raised my eyebrows, looking quite impressed, "There are a lot of nobles."

    My eyes widened as I perused some names. "Holy Incarni! Five of them are from Axial Families."

    "Wonder what trouble they caused."

    "They are quite powerful," Iris remarked, leaning against me to read the list. Her cold breath brushed against my skin and my heart fluttered.

    Focus, Mordred.

    "I didn''t see the last few names when I checked before," she muttered, and her eyes wandered to the end of the list.

    "What the? No way," Iris froze and breathed out.

    I followed her gaze and read the last names and a cold lump dropped into my stomach.

    Artemis Fray

    Apollo Fray

    "Fray," Iris read aloud, concern evident in her expression. "Damien?"

    I gave her a solemn nod, "I was afraid this day would come."

    The memories of that dreadful day resurfaced in my mind.

    "His siblings, right?" Iris inquired in a soft voice.

    I nodded, "I made a promise to look after them."

    "We made a promise," she insisted. "Do not bear it all on yourself."

    I nodded and suppressed the surfacing memories. Now is not the time.

    Taking a deep breath, I attempted to smile. "Shall we welcome the new meatsuits?"

 54 My Friend Here Can Be Quite Sadistic

    The Deathwalker who emerged from the Argo seemed visibly relieved upon seeing us.

    "Tough crowd?" Iris arched her eyebrows, her tone laced with amusement.

    "You have no idea," the Deathwalker, a man in his mid-twenties, sighed. "I''d rather take on a whole squadron of daemons than deal with those guys."

    "Careful what you wish for, buddy. You might end up like a split banana," I said with a wry grin.

    "Yeah, you''re right," he nodded, handing us a tablet.

    "This contains the list of newbies that was sent to you along with the cargo manifest. Most of it consists of high-grade morphium," he explained.

    "Looks like they''re gaining popularity," Iris remarked, cross-checking the list of names.

    She nodded and handed back the tablet. "Yep. No stowaways. Only someone downright batshit crazy would sneak into Blood Valley."

    "Also, run the cargo manifest at the reception. We''re here solely for the newbies."

    "I''m quite glad you two are the ones to welcome and guide them around," the Deathwalker added.

    "These new guys? Kind of on the wild and snobby side, especially the nobles."

    "Well, we''ve had our fair share of dealing with noble pricks. We''ll handle it just fine," I assured him, nodding toward the carrier.

    "Let''s introduce them to some nice, cold, and crisp mountain air."

    *******

    "This is not so bad," I remarked as we faced the assembled recruits.

    It was a bizarre mix of criminals, orphans, and ordinary people who had nothing in the world and volunteered to fight. Among them were nobles exuding the elegance unique to the high class.

    They varied in age, with the youngest being fifteen years old and the oldest in their mid-twenties.

    Youngblood, you could say. And boy, are they strong! Among them, the weakest holds the status of an intermediate C ranker, while the mightiest stands at my level, an intermediate A rank.

    To put it in perspective, the weakest recruits we usually get are at the E rank. So yeah, this group is quite formidable.

    Their attitudes varied significantly as well.

    The criminals appeared terrified, huddling together at a considerable distance from the Shield.

    I don''t blame them. Criminals are the only ones beyond Blood Valley who are exposed to the true horrors of battling daemons. This revelation is intended to instill fear and discourage them from committing further crimes.

    To them, becoming a Deathwalker is worse than receiving the death sentence.

    The orphans, though visibly nervous, had their apprehension overshadowed by wonder and awe as they stared up at the massive Shield that loomed over everyone.

    Meanwhile, the nobles maintained a stoic gaze ahead. While they had received less information than the criminals, it was enough to make them wary of the dangers.

    Some, however, sported haughty expressions that practically begged for a punch.

    Deep breaths, Mordred. Don''t traumatize them now. Just wait for Iris to finish her welcome speech.

    Wearing her brightest smile, a clear harbinger of potential danger, Iris addressed the assembly.

    "Hey there! I understand not everyone''s thrilled to be here, judging by the expressions of our dear crime-loving companions."

    Her gaze shifted to the criminals at the back, causing even the bravest among them to flinch under her unhinged stare.

    Criminals were not just informed about daemons. They were also cautioned about Deathwalkers not to provoke. Since some Deathwalkers can be worse than daemons. And Iris is on that list.

    Iris continued her welcoming speech, undeterred by the unfolding drama.

    "Anyway, my partner and I welcome you all to Blood Valley and the Shield. We are here to guide you through your initiation into the Deathwalkers. This is no ordinary journey, but if you''re tough enough, you might just survive the madness of Blood Valley!"

    However, before she could utter another word, an audacious voice disrupted the atmosphere.

    "Are you fucking kidding me?"

    A strong aura emanated from the speaker, bringing some of the weaker recruits to their knees.

    But it barely affected me or Iris.

    Stepping forward was a tall young man in a black shirt and white pants, towering over six feet.

    His athletic build showcased well-defined muscles beneath the fabric. His spiky silver hair cascaded down his neck, sharp grey eyes emitting a feral and arrogant glint, and his ruggedly handsome face adorned with a scowl matched his overall demeanor.

    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

    Staring down at me and Iris, he demanded.

    "Who the hell are you? Where''s Sir Kay? Shouldn''t he be the one welcoming us instead of two pretty-faced ladies? Do you even know who I am?"

    His scowl transformed into a grin as he scrutinized us more closely.

    "By the way, you two are quite the beauties," he leaned in towards Iris, his eyes shamelessly scanning her from head to toe.

    "The white-haired girl is pretty, but she is flat as an iron board. But you, girly, are my type. Everything is in the right proportions. Your face is so beautiful that I wanna kiss every inch of it."

    Hm. I wonder how much force is enough to break his spine?

    Also, he thinks I''m a girl. Not surprised. After all, many mistake my natural breathtaking beauty for that of a woman. What can I say? I''m just that gorgeous!

    I could see Iris trying hard not to burst into laughter at this guy''s words, especially when he commented on me.

    "The commander is currently occupied with more pressing matters and won''t be engaging with absolute losers like you," maintaining her composure, she spoke.

    "And thank you for the compliment, but you''re a bit too repulsive for my taste. A Neanderthal would probably score higher in the handsome department than you," she added, delivering the words with a sweet smile.

    Whoa. That must''ve stung.

    The young man''s smile vanished, and his face contorted in displeasure.

    "What the fuck did you say, you bitch? Are you fucking with me?"

    Iris cringed, "Ew. Why would I even consider that? You are uglier than a vulture''s idea for a gourmet meal. I bet your reflection in the mirror apologizes for what it has to show every morning."

    "Also, I''m sixteen, and you seem older than my long-dead grandma. So yeah, definitely not legal."

    She continued, "Your face looks like it got in a fight with a blender and lost. I''ve seen better-looking roadkill."

    Bruh.

    Iris is on a roll!

    The tall guy''s face flushed red with rage and embarrassment.

    "You are fucking dead, you little bitch," he growled through clenched teeth.

    A chilling Bloodlust burst out from him, and his aura intensified, but Iris and I remained unfazed.

    My Omni contacts scanned the guy, and I was quite impressed. Master B rank. Not bad.

    Iris smirked and stepped forward, but I gestured for her to wait.

    "May I?"

    She raised an eyebrow, "You sure? I''m suddenly feeling bad for the guy."

    I gave her a sweet smile that rivaled her own.

    "Don''t worry. I won''t kill him."

    "Yeah. Definitely feel bad for him. But go on."

    "Thanks!"

    I casually walked toward the young man, unaffected by the powerful aura that brought most of the recruits to their knees.

    Most of the nobles looked frantic as they tried to take in what was happening right now. The only ones looking calm were the ones who seemed to be from Axial Families and a pair of twins who looked quite bored.

    Those twins must be the Frays. Interesting.

    "Where the fuck are you looking at?" the growl before me turned into an irritated snarl as the young man''s towering presence became more apparent.

    Ah. It seems I reached the douche.

    With a condescending expression, he loomed over me, his overpowering aura trying to assert dominance.

    "Do you even know who I am?" he demanded with a dangerous edge in his voice.

    I maintained a nonchalant demeanor, frowning slightly.

    "I''m sorry. Who are you?"

    His aura intensified, and his voice dropped to a barely audible level.

    "Do you have a death wish?" he inquired, his threat hanging in the air.

    "You have no idea who you and that bitch are messing with. By the time my associates and I are through with you, you''ll be begging for death."

    I sighed. Young ones these days.

    "Firstly, I''m a guy," I calmly clarified.

    "Huh?" The guy seemed taken aback. "What?"

    "Secondly, you swear too much," I continued.

    "Thirdly. Do not look down on me."

    In an instant, a flash of crimson, and blood splattered on the ground as the young man abruptly fell, his legs cleanly sliced off at the knees.

    It happened so swiftly that it took a minute for the screaming to start.

    The other recruits quickly scattered, repulsed by the macabre sight of the young man''s legs, eerily standing like tree stumps after a ruthless felling.

    Blood cascaded down the once pristine white cloth of his pants, forming a gruesome pool on the snowy ground.

    In reaction, a chorus of horrified reactions unfolded among the recruits, some screamed, others clamped their hands over their mouths, and a few collapsed to their knees, unable to bear the grisly spectacle.

    But the loudest screams were from the now legless young man.

    His screams reverberated off the cold, unyielding walls of the mountains and the imposing surface of the Shield.

    His entire body trembled as he struggled to lift himself from the snowy terrain.

    "It hurts! It fucking hurts! What have you done?" Desperation filled his tear-filled grey eyes as he gazed up at me, and then, with a heart-wrenching realization, he turned to look behind him at his severed legs, bizarrely still standing.

    "MY LEGS! MY LEGS!" he screamed and again gazed up at me.

    "YOU BASTARD! YOU FUCKING SON OF A BITCH!"

    Unfazed, I coolly assumed a seated position.

    "This is a better vantage point," I stated, casually resting on my haunches.

    "Fourthly," I seized his long silver hair, compelling him to meet my gaze, "Learn some bloody manners."

    My lips curled into an unhinged grin, and I quickly slammed his face into the ground, pulverizing the tarmac beneath.

    "And fifthly," I yanked back his hair and administered another merciless strike.

    "Do not."

    With each brutal impact, the cold tarmac disintegrated further, echoing the sickening crunch of breaking bones.

    "Insult."

    The subsequent collision sent blood spraying across my pristine white turtleneck.

    "My."

    This time, several blood-stained teeth were expelled in the process.

    "Mother."

    A final and powerful slam obliterated the remaining shards of tarmac, leaving a grotesque aftermath of splattered blood in its wake.

    I yanked his hair back, surveying the aftermath of my handiwork.

    "My. Now you resemble a Neanderthal. Handsome."

    Despite the bloodied mess that used to be his face, he managed to maintain a semblance of composure, a testament to his resilience as a B-ranker.

    Mildly impressed, I acknowledged his resilience. A B-ranker, indeed.

    His breaths came ragged, each cough releasing more blood. Despite the grim situation, he locked his once-gray eyes, now obscured with blood, onto mine.

    In a grotesque display, he offered a defiant smile and spat a mouthful of blood onto my face.

    "You are fucked," he rasped, "I am Sean Blackwood of the Blackwood Axial Family. My family has ties with the Royal Pendragons. Say goodbye to your life, you vicious son of a bitch!"

    I stared at him, bemused by his audacity, and sighed, "What did I say about insulting my mother?"

    "And close ties with the Royal Family? I''m sorry, I didn''t know that," I leaned forward and whispered into his ear.

    "I''ve lived my whole life in the Dawn Palace, so I had no idea. And I don''t care."

    His eyes widened in disbelief and horror, "The Dawn Palace?" he stammered, "You mean you are?"

    I gave him a sweet smile and slammed his face repeatedly into the shattered tarmac.

    "Yes! I am the second High Prince! Mordred Pendragon!"

    I cackled, and my insane laughter echoed all over the valley.

    *******

    Iris watched Mordred laughing as he mercilessly slammed the young man''s face repeatedly into the broken tarmac.

    "I shouldn''t have let him do that," she sighed at the shocked expressions etched on the faces of the other recruits.

    Even those who prided themselves on composure were unable to mask their horror and disbelief.

    She sighed again and smiled.

    "Sorry about that. My friend can be quite sadistic."

 55 Were All Mad Here

    "That''s taking it too far, Your Highness."

    Three distinct auras enveloped me as I acquainted Sean Blackwood''s visage with the shattered tarmac.

    A powerful gust of wind tousled my hair and jacket collar.

    Turning, I caught sight of the tip of a claymore aimed at me.

    Holding it was a tall young man with a slim build, appearing to be eighteen.

    His striking features included obsidian-black hair transitioning to a reddish hue, complemented by fair skin.

    Despite being clad in a simple light blue shirt, black jeans, and a long winter coat, he emitted an air of regal authority.

    His abyssal black eyes locked onto mine, piercing as he firmly gripped his silver claymore, adorned with an ornate handle and intricate blue designs along the blade''s edge.

    "It''s been a while since anyone addressed me in such a manner," I remarked, meeting the intense gaze of the young man while simultaneously grasping the blood-matted silver hair of the unconscious Sean Blackwood.

    His face was now a bloody pulp, most of his teeth were gone, and he had lost consciousness.

    Blood pooled out of the cleanly sliced stumps of his legs.

    It was a miracle he hadn''t died from blood loss.

    I smiled at the claymore-wielding young man. I read about him in the files.

    Carlo Devereux, the second son of the Devereux Axial Family, a sword prodigy wielding complete mastery over all sword types, with the claymore as his specialty. And the strongest recruit.

    "It feels nice to be addressed like that," I said, smiling at Carlo and slamming Sean''s head into the tarmac one final time.

    Carlo tightened the grip on his claymore and immediately assumed a stance. "Please carefully consider my words, Your Highness."

    What a commendably righteous and forthright individual. What prompted him to become a Deathwalker?

    "Well, well. Is this truly the infamous Failed Prince everyone''s been talking about? He''s a total maniac! I might just be falling for him," teased a sly female voice from my right.

    Turning, I saw a girl with cyan hair, appearing to be my age.

    Her azurite-like eyes sparkled mischievously as she traced a long, elegant finger along the rapier''s blade.

    Her physique resembled Iris, and she sported a green parka, a short pleated skirt paired with black leggings, and brown winter boots.

    As our eyes met, she gracefully bowed, her cyan ponytail swaying in the chilly mountain breeze.

    "An honor to meet you, Your Highness! I am Krystal MacLeod," she introduced herself with the poise of a noble young lady.

    "Mordred Pendragon. A pleasure to meet you," I responded with a smile, wiping the blood splatter off my face.

    Krystal''s face reddened, and she tried to cover her crazy grin. "Oh Incarni! You are so beautiful! Can we fight?" she squealed, gripping her rapier, and a layer of ice coated the slender blade.

    Her azurite eyes glowed, and large ice crystals formed in the air around her, and her aura shook the ground.

    "Beginner A rank. Impressive," I remarked with an approving smile.

    Before I could activate Haema, another female voice intervened coldly. "Calm down, you crazy girl," another strong aura clashed with Krystal''s, causing both to dissipate.

    My attention shifted to another girl, seemingly older than me, with a tall, slim frame adorned in a light blue suit and white shirt underneath her black winter coat.

    Her spiky brown hair reached her shoulders, and her stormy grey eyes, tinted with specks of amber, regarded me with hostility.

    "Krystal, we shouldn''t indulge this sadistic lunatic. He''s a disgrace to the Pendragon name. The violence he exhibited against Sean Blackwood tarnishes the Royal Family''s reputation," she delivered her scathing words with a cold and regal voice.

    "Awww," Krystal frowned, dissipating her ice.

    I responded to the grey-eyed girl with an equally icy smile. "You must not be a fan of mine, Miss..?"

    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    "Ava Baskerville," she introduced with venom. "I should, at the very least, show basic courtesy even to a barbarian like you."

    "I''m truly honored to have piqued the interest of a Baskerville," I expressed, offering a warm smile and a courteous bow.

    Among the prestigious Axial Families, the Baskervilles fascinated me.

    Renowned for their expertise in covert operations, particularly assassinations, they were the go-to for discreet removals in Asteris.

    "Speaking of which," I continued, stepping closer and focusing my gaze on Ava.

    The young lady from the Baskervilles appeared slightly uneasy, yet she met my gaze with unwavering determination.

    "I''ve heard whispers about a Baskerville hailed as the deadliest assassin in the Kingdom." I stared into her grey eyes.

    "The Hound of Baskerville."

    The already low temperature dropped when I mentioned the name, and I detected a subtle shift in Ava''s stoic expression.

    Drawing nearer, I inquired, "Could it be that you are the Hound?"

    I must have looked scary because she stepped back before calming down.

    She took a deep breath and glared at me. "Someone of my stature could never compare to the Hound, and frankly, someone like you isn''t fit to discuss him," she declared, her tone as icy as her resolve.

    "So, the Hound is a man? Fascinating," I remarked with a sly grin.

    "Enough. Please step away from her, Your Highness," Carlo warned me.

    I turned around and saw his claymore pointed right at me. Ignoring the sharp blade, I walked past the young man and stood before the unconscious Sean Blackwood.

    "One crucial lesson in the Shield," I declared, my gaze shifting from the frightened recruits to the trio surrounding me and finally settling on young Blackwood.

    "Always know your place," I stated, extending my arm toward Sean.

    "Hey!" Carlo moved to intervene, but tendrils of black darkness erupted from the ground, coiling around him and holding him fast.

    Similar dark whips shot forth, ensnaring both Krystal and Ava.

    "Don''t tell me you guys were going to party on without me," Iris chimed in with a calm smile.

    "Release us!" Ava Baskerville demanded. "Don''t you realize what he is about to do?"

    Iris tilted her head. "I know." She glanced at me. "Do it. They won''t move an inch."

    I nodded, eyeing the white mechanima coiled around my arm. "Basil. Wake up."

    The white serpent''s emerald-green eyes glowed as she roused with a hiss. Lifting her small head, she fixed her gaze upon me. I smiled and nodded at Sean Blackwood.

    Basil shifted her attention to the legless young man, nodding in understanding.

    With a graceful slither, Basil moved away from my arm and toward Sean.

    Two powerful auras fell on me. "What are you doing!" Carlo roared.

    Okay. This is getting annoying. "Oh. Just shut up," I sighed.

    I unleashed my aura on the three of them, bringing them to their knees.

    "How?" Carlo gritted his teeth, trying to resist my overwhelming aura. "This is on the same level as mine? How is it so powerful?"

    I merely shrugged. "I''m built differently."

    The other recruits watched in a mixture of awe and fear at the sight of Basil.

    Her white scales shimmered as her body elongated and thickened as she slithered toward Sean Blackwood.

    The transformation was so seamless it looked otherworldly.

    She delicately wound her long body around Sean until he was securely held within her grasp.

    Raising her elegant head, Basil met my gaze with her emerald eyes.

    I nodded. "Take him to Althea."

    Acknowledging with a hiss, Basil dragged Sean Blackwood toward the entrance.

    "Oh shit. His legs," I suddenly remembered.

    "I got it." Iris whistled, and Perry swooped out of the sky, snatching the severed legs. With a mechanical squawk, the falcon followed Basil toward the infirmary.

    Suppressing my aura, the three nobles from Axial Families crumpled to the snowy ground. I approached Carlo, who was heaving on the snowy tarmac.

    "Don''t worry. Basil is taking that asshat to the infirmary. He''ll be fixed up in no time," I reassured him.

    "You''re powerful, both in body and mind. I hope you can hold your own on the battlefield," Iris remarked as she walked over to us.

    She glanced at Carlo, then at Ava, and finally at Krystal. "So, this is what Minerva meant by wild," she chuckled. "You guys are quite quirky and fiery. You''ll need that against the daemons."

    "Oh, I forgot to introduce myself." She placed a hand on her chest and bowed. "I am the captain of Unit 21. Iris Karsus."

    Her name sparked a lot of commotion.

    "Iris Karsus? The bastard of Duke Karsus?"

    "The kinslayer. She killed her half-brother and the Duchess and even crippled her eldest brother."

    "She is the youngest criminal to be sent to the Shield."

    "I can''t believe she''s still alive."

    Iris seemed to relish the unsavory chatter about her. "Ah. That hits the spot."

    "What are you? A masochist?" I frowned.

    Iris raised her eyebrows. "It feels nice to be notorious."

    "I''ll surpass you in notoriety," I declared confidently.

    "Keep dreaming, pretty boy."

    Our banter was interrupted by Carlo''s shaky voice. "You''re both insane,"

    My smile widened. "Oh, my. What gave you that impression?"

    Spreading out my arms, I locked eyes with him.

    "Young Master Devereux, we''re all mad here."

 56 In A Blaze Of Glory

    Carlo, Krystal, and Ava rejoined the group.

    I and Iris stood before them as though my recent brutal beatdown of Sean Blackwood hadn''t unfolded just moments ago.

    "Alright then!" Iris exclaimed, her smile bright and welcoming. "Now that the challenging part is behind us, let''s proceed into the Shield!"

    She gestured grandly toward the colossal main entrance of the Shield. "Ladies, follow me, while the gentlemen follow Vice Captain Mordred. Everyone needs to go through processing before entering Necropolis."

    Iris scanned the group, "Any questions?"

    A girl who looked about fifteen tentatively raised her hand.

    Iris arched an eyebrow, "Yes, Miss..?"

    "Artemis Fray," the girl replied calmly, her voice carrying surprising maturity for her age.

    Ah, so this is Damien''s sister. And the boy beside her must be her twin brother, Apollo

    Both had wavy obsidian-black hair. While Artemis''s smooth locks cascaded down her shoulders, Apollo had swept back his hair.

    They shared the same golden eyes, each with a distinct gleam.

    Artemis''s eyes sparkled with intelligence and mystery, while Apollo''s held a lazy look, hinting at mischief beneath the surface.

    Both were slender and their outfits were also a study in contrasts. Artemis wore a simple white shirt and grey slacks under her grey winter coat, whereas Apollo donned a flashy red shirt and green pants under a winter coat woven with gold thread.

    Truly flashy indeed.

    However, the unmistakable family resemblance was apparent.

    While their skin was fairer compared to their older brother, the twins exuded the same elegance and beauty as Damien.

    The memories of that day resurfaced once again.

    I pushed them back down.

    "What would you like to know, Miss Fray?" Iris asked.

    Artemis gestured toward the distant mountain. "I saw a huge air carrier heading toward that mountain. Is there something special about it?"

    "Ah," Iris smiled. "That, my dear recruits, is the Tomb. An entire mountain carved hollow to serve as the resting place for deceased Deathwalkers."

    Her chilling description sent a wave of uneasiness through the recruits. Artemis looked visibly concerned but quickly composed herself.

    Iris''s eyes sparkled as she surveyed the group. "Anyone else have any questions?"

    This time, no one spoke up.

    "Follow me, ladies!" Iris commanded cheerfully, leading the female recruits toward the entrance of the Shield.

    The guys were left with me, casting wary glances in my direction. Some looked outright terrified.

    I sighed, "I''m not going to eat you guys."

    With a sweet smile, I added, "Come on! Follow me, my hearty lads!"

    With that, the guys followed me into the Shield.

    *******

    "This is the processing room," I announced, gesturing toward the expansive area filled with white pods.

    Then, with a deadpan expression, I added, "Now strip."

    Surprise rippled through the recruits.

    "Wait. What?" Carlo''s incredulous voice cut through the confusion.

    "Yep," I confirmed, "Take off all your clothes and enter the pods buck naked. Your entire body needs to be scanned. Trust me, it''s nothing weird."

    "Unless you want to be permanently disabled," I added with a sinister smile.

    The recruits shifted awkwardly but slowly began to undress. Some still looked uncomfortable.

    I rolled my eyes. "If you''re very shy, you can remove your clothes after entering the pods."

    With this assurance, the nervous ones looked relieved and entered the open pods

    Soon, many of the recruits were unclothed and standing near the pods.

    I couldn''t help but notice the variety of physiques. Carlo''s sculpted body stood out, while Apollo''s physique, though delicate, had a hidden strength reminiscent of my own.

    Others had massive, rippling muscles, and then there were the hopelessly scrawny ones.

    Yeesh.

    And yes, my eyes wandered, but I didn''t pay much attention to their manhood.

    Why look at longswords when I already possess Excalibur?

    Anyway.

    After everyone had entered the pods, I sat down at the main control table and called out to Minerva.

    "Are they all ready to be processed?" I asked.

    "Yep. I must say, most of them look quite fine," Minerva''s smooth, cold voice echoed in my earpiece. "Especially Carlo," she purred.

    I rolled my eyes again. "Begin processing."

    "Sure. And don''t worry, you''re still my favorite Deathwalker," Minerva teased.

    "I didn''t ask to be your favorite," I sighed.

    "Proceeding with the processing of the recruits," the AI confirmed. "Oh, and their uniforms are ready."

    "Understood. Send them."

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    Several thumps followed as many Deathwalker uniforms were shot into the lockers behind me from the Workshop. Since there are a lot of recruits, processing will take some time.

    The memories of that day swirled in my head. Damien''s request echoed in my mind.

    "Take care of my siblings."

    I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

    I guess it''s time you guys know what happened.

    Flashback time.

    *******

    Two years Ago

    "Shit, that hurts!" I leaped backward, clutching the bleeding stump where my right arm used to be.

    Grimacing, I glared at the abnormal daemon that had just severed my arm below the elbow.

    Its body, like Asphodel''s, was made of twisted, glossy black roots, but it had six long arms with sharp tentacles for fingers.

    Unlike its eerie counterpart with the nightmare-inducing smile, this daemon had a featureless black face, smooth enough to almost see my reflection.

    Taking deep breaths, I used Haema to stop the bleeding and temporarily seal the wound.

    Just my luck to run into an abnormal right as I became an intermediate C ranker!

    Is the world messing with me?

    Two blood tentacles surged from my back with an intense burst of ardor. One of them seized a fallen dagger, serving as a makeshift replacement for my severed arm.

    The daemon tilted its head and attacked, lashing out with its sharp tentacles. I jumped back, deflecting the strikes with my daggers. Sparks flew as the white blades clashed violently against the black tentacles, but it wasn''t enough.

    A tentacle pierced my right leg, and two more drilled through my torso.

    I fell to my knees, my daggers dropping to the ground. The sounds of battle around me faded as the abnormal daemon approached, tentacles flailing, ready to eviscerate me.

    Just as the tip of the tentacles reached my face, I felt a sudden spike in temperature. A powerful bolt of fire passed right by me and struck the daemon, causing it to erupt into flames.

    As the daemon frantically flailed its burning tentacles, five sharp rods of solid darkness materialized above it, pinning it to the ground.

    "Hey, Mordred!" a familiar voice greeted me from behind. "You need a hand?" Damien came up beside me with a smug smile, his sword wreathed in a blazing inferno.

    I heard a groan from my other side. "Damien! I swear that joke is getting old!" Iris grumbled as she propped me up.

    Her blue eyes glowed, and another set of black rods rammed into the daemon''s body, immobilizing it.

    However, Iris frowned. "That''s odd. Why is it still moving? I was sure I pierced its chest."

    "That''s what I did as well," I winced. "I gave the video feed and my observations to Minerva, and she came up with a hypothesis."

    "Oh? And what is that?" Damien asked, curiosity evident in his raised eyebrows.

    "The heart moves around the body. Makes it hard to pinpoint the bloody thing," I replied.

    "Why didn''t you say that before?" Iris asked, flicking her fingers. Numerous spikes of darkness materialized above the trapped abnormal daemon and fell upon it.

    The daemon''s body suddenly convulsed as one of the spikes found its mark.

    "Let''s get out of here, shall we?" Damien suggested and started to back off from the now-still daemon.

    I was about to follow him and Iris when a terrifying chill enveloped me and something grabbed my leg.

    I looked down, and my blood ran cold. It was a black tentacle of the daemon.

    With a powerful tug, the daemon pulled me toward it just as it exploded in a ball of darkness.

    "MORDRED!" Damien''s panicked voice echoed as darkness filled my vision. The wailing of the wraith erupted from the lingering darkness, rushing toward me.

    A feeling of despair overwhelmed me as I saw the wailing crimson smoke come at me. Is this how my life ends? As a monster that would be burned to ashes? What a horrible end.

    So I closed my eyes, bracing for my imminent transformation into a wraith. I just hoped that Damien and Iris would immediately destroy me.

    However, nothing happened.

    The grip around my leg unraveled, and I dropped onto the cold snow.

    A presence stood before me.

    "This is going to suck," a familiar voice remarked. The wailing of the wraith was silenced, replaced by the grunting of a man in pain.

    I immediately understood what happened, and despair washed over me.

    Opening my eyes, I saw Damien standing before me as if shielding me.

    And he was changing, to my utter horror. His body convulsed, and black veins appeared on his skin.

    He had taken in the wraith.

    "DAMIEN! NO!" I yelled, rushing toward him with my remaining arm outstretched.

    "STAY BACK!" Damien''s voice echoed above the sounds of battle as he turned around and faced me. His eyes were turning red, and his nails were starting to elongate and blacken.

    He clutched his chest and was clearly struggling.

    Somehow, he is still holding off the wraith''s influence that is taking over his body.

    Despite his warning, I continued to move forward.

    "No! Mordred!" Iris yelled, grabbing my arm to hold me back.

    "But he hasn''t turned yet!" I protested, a desperate hope blooming inside me.

    Iris shook her head, devastation in her eyes. "His will is strong, but he won''t last long," her words shattered the fragile hope within me.

    "She''s right, Mordred. It''s too late for me," Damien grunted, his voice strained with pain.

    The black veins continued to spread across his skin, his eyes turned completely red, and he unleashed a blood-chilling roar. Clutching his head, his nails transformed into claws.

    "I probably have about five minutes before I go full wraith mode," he looked at me with mad resolve in his eyes. "Burn me, Mordred."

    I blinked, shocked. "What?"

    "Burn me, you blithering idiot, before I rip your guts out!" he yelled in frustration.

    "But why? Why save me?" I asked, my voice cracking with despair.

    "Why would I hesitate to help a friend?" he asked back, giving me a pained smile as his teeth turned into fangs.

    He turned to Iris, "Look after him, will you?"

    Iris nodded resolutely, "I will. Let me put you to rest."

    Damien shook his head. "No. It must be Mordred. If I am to go down, I will go down in a blaze of glory ignited by the High Prince himself!"

    His declaration steeled my resolve. I took a deep breath and looked at him, "Do you have any regrets, Damien Fray?"

    Damien chuckled, "I have a lot, Mordred. But my greatest regret is that I won''t be there to witness you leaving this wretched place and see my siblings again."

    "Ah, yes," his eyes lit up with realization. "Mordred, Iris, I have a request," he struggled as his transformation progressed.

    "I have two younger siblings, Artemis and Apollo. They are twins and are condemned to the Shield when they turn fifteen."

    He looked at us with completely red eyes, a small smile playing on his lips. "Please look after my siblings."

    After he said those words, he doubled over, letting out an unholy bestial scream. "Quick. I''m out of time!" he yelled desperately at me.

    My left hand shook as a blood tentacle took out a spark glove from my bracelet, and I donned it.

    "Goodbye, Damien," I choked out.

    He gave me a final smile. "It was an honor to meet you both."

    I snapped my fingers, and immolating blue flames quickly enveloped the now-transformed Damien.

    He and the wraith let out a combined scream of pain that would haunt my dreams for as long as I lived.

    Despite the horrific pain from being burned alive, Damien grinned as the flames consumed his body and face. As we watched in shock, he gripped his sword and charged at the nearest daemons with a defiant yell.

    His laughter and the screams of the wraith echoed in our ears as Damien Fray was completely enveloped by the blue flames.

    His clothes burned away, his skin melted and vaporized, and his bones charred. But he didn''t stop his final assault until the deadly flames consumed his very being.

    As the burning remains of the still-standing Damien Fray turned to ash, the final wails of the wraith died down.

    I broke the stunned silence. "What just happened?" My voice was filled with shock and grief.

    Iris placed a hand on my shoulder, a sad smile on her face.

    "It''s like he said, Damien went out in a blaze of glory."

 57 Yeah, I Have Changed

    "Processing complete," Minerva''s smooth voice roused me from my flashback.

    I rubbed my eyes and let out a deep sigh.

    Incarni! If only I could erase certain memories.

    The pods hissed open, and the recruits stepped out. I gestured for them to approach the lockers, "Get dressed and collect your uniforms. Don the provided bracelets as well."

    "Careful. This might sting," I warned with a grin.

    A collective yelp and screams of pain followed as the laser etched the Shield''s insignia onto their skin. The scent of burning flesh reached my nose but was swiftly whisked away by the ventilation system.

    A few minutes later, the newbies were fully clad in default Deathwalker uniforms, everyone looking like they just got poked with a red hot iron rod.

    They looked quite impressive in their uniforms.

    Not as good as me though.

    I snapped my fingers, and the wall at the back split to reveal an armory containing an array of weapons.

    Swords of various shapes and sizes, daggers arranged like dragon teeth, spears poised like deadly frozen serpents, and an assortment of gauntlets, hammers, battleaxes, and scythes gleamed on the racks.

    All of these weapons, made of schattium, glinted on the racks and entranced the newbies.

    I gestured at the deadly toys. "Choose your preferred weapons, newbies."

    "I see that some of you have brought your weapons, but unless they''re made of schattium or enchanted against daemons, they''re quite useless," I informed them.

    In response, Carlo hefted his claymore over his shoulder and shrugged. "Not a problem for me."

    I observed his claymore and noticed an intricate sequence of runes enveloping the long blade of the deadly weapon. Impressed, I remarked, "Looks like the Devereux Family is well-versed in daemon combat."

    "Every Axial Family is, Your Highness," Carlo replied, a hint of hostility in his eyes lingering from the Sean Blackwood incident.

    It seems like he wasn''t completely over that.

    But, hey! That guy was asking for a head slamming into the tarmac. He looked at Iris with those sleazy eyes!

    How bold!

    Anyway.

    "Axial Families are quite amazing," I remarked. "I can see you surviving your first battle, master Devereux."

    I gazed at him and focused my aura on him. Carlo''s knees buckled, but he stood strong against my powerful aura.

    I smiled. "Do not disappoint me, Carlo Devereux."

    "You have changed a lot, Your Highness," Carlo gasped as my aura stopped pressing down on him.

    I raised an eyebrow. "You knew me?"

    "I once saw you in the Dawn Palace when I was young," he recalled. "You were more��"

    "Weak? Pitiful?" I suggested, a dangerous edge in my voice.

    "Gentle." Carlo''s abyssal black eyes gazed into mine.

    The other newbies looked quite nervous at the stare-down between us.

    Except for Apollo. The guy looked like he was ready to bring out a bag of popcorn to watch the drama.

    What a weirdo.

    There was an uncomfortable silence as Carlo and I locked gazes and the air trembled from the power we unconsciously released.

    "Are you aware of my past?" I inquired.

    He nodded. "I am sorry for the suffering you endured."

    "Save it," I growled, bloodlust leaking out of me as a long-forgotten anger sparked in my heart.

    Carlo gulped as his body became paralyzed by my bloodlust.

    "Since you are from an Axial Family, I assume you are aware of what happens to someone who becomes a Deathwalker?"

    He nodded. "I have a small idea."

    I tilted my head and gave him an emotionless stare. "In the Shield and Blood Valley, the ones who fight daemons almost every day turn into monsters themselves."

    My voice resonated with power as I spoke. "Deathwalkers fight a brutal war against the daemons. We destroy our bodies and then have them fixed, only for them to be destroyed again in the next battle."

    "We watch our comrades get brutally torn apart by the wretched daemons before our eyes. We even kill our friends who turned into wraiths by subjecting them to one of the worst ways to die."

    "The pain and horror of all of this changes a person, Master Devereux," my voice washed over the newbies, making them tremble in their spots.

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    "It doesn''t matter if you are a criminal or from the royal family," I continued.

    "It doesn''t matter if you are an evil or good person. It doesn''t matter to the daemons. They''ll just keep killing. And this constant cycle of death and slaughter can change a person."

    The room trembled slightly as I gazed into Carlo''s deep black eyes.

    "So yeah. I have changed a lot."

    There was a heavy silence as my words sunk in. The other newbies, already wielding their weapons, avoided my gaze.

    Even Carlo looked quite disturbed by my words.

    "Have you all chosen your weapons?" I asked, scanning the newbies.

    Most held schattium weapons, but my gaze lingered on Apollo.

    I arched my eyebrows at the black chains wrapped around his arms.

    Smirking, he said, "I have quite the practice with these babies."

    "By the way," he approached and looked up at me. I was taller than him, after all.

    "You are Mordred Pendragon, right?" he asked, his golden eyes gazing into mine.

    I sensed a dangerous and eerie feeling out of them the longer I stared into those eyes. I nodded. "Yes, I am."

    "Then you are the one who killed my brother, right?" he asked, a mysterious glint in his eyes.

    The room fell silent as the temperature dropped, and even Carlo prepared to intervene.

    Unfazed, I confirmed, "Yes. I killed Damien."

    My words cut the silence like a sharp dagger through the black flesh of a daemon.

    "I see," Apollo closed his golden eyes, and the temperature normalized.

    Opening them, he displayed a sense of loss and a sad smile played on his lips.

    "I have read the report. Everything was over the instant the crimson smoke entered Damien," he said.

    He fixed his gaze on me. "How did it feel?"

    I took a deep breath before replying. "Horrifying."

    He nodded. "And his last moments?"

    My lips formed a sad smile. "Damien went out in a blaze of glory."

    "Sounds just like him," Apollo laughed and held out his hand. "Thank you for killing my brother. I''ll be sure to survive and even join the Lunatics."

    "I hope you survive your first battle," I responded as he energetically shook my hand.

    Just as the words escaped my mouth, the daemon alarm blared all around us, startling everyone.

    Even I almost jumped out of my skin.

    Jeez. Try to be more subtle, Minerva.

    "What a weird coincidence," I remarked, noticing everyone''s bracelets flashing green.

    "Alright, newbies! This is your first battle against the daemons. Do your best and worst!" I yelled over the blaring alarm.

    "Try not to die!"

    In a bright flash of green light that almost blinded me, all the newbies vanished and teleported to the battlefield.

    "Damn. Minerva really green flashed all of them," I grumbled as I rubbed my poor eyes.

    A door to the room opened, and Iris walked in. She too was rubbing her eyes.

    "Why are you green?" she asked, squinting and blinking rapidly.

    I frowned. "Really? You look like you replaced your eyes with Basil''s."

    "Teleporting multiple people at a time can do that to an observer," she explained, shaking her head.

    "Ah! That''s better," Iris smiled contently.

    "So? Minerva took everyone?" she asked.

    I nodded. "Yep. Yours too?"

    She nodded back. "Minerva is really eager to plonk them on the field."

    "Of course I am! They are quite promising recruits!" the AI exclaimed in my ear.

    "Somebody is excited," I noted.

    Iris snorted. "Who would''ve thought? Wish I could see them in action. Especially Artemis, Ava, and Krystal. They are quite unique!"

    See them in action, huh?

    An idea bloomed in my mind. "Hey, Iris! Are you up for another battle?" I asked, looking into her beautiful blue eyes.

    She frowned. "What''s with that question? Oh, Ohh."

    Her eyes lit up as she immediately realized what I meant. A mischievous grin played on her lips.

    "My. Is it proper for us to join them?" she inquired, her eyes glinting with an insane avarice for battle.

    "We''re in charge of them. So why not?" I reasoned, my lips curling into a wicked grin of my own.

    "And I know just the place to teleport to."

    I tapped my bracelet and called Minerva. "Any chance you could squeeze in two more hot-blooded Deathwalkers into the battlefield?" I asked the AI.

    "You two are absolutely batshit insane, aren''t you?" the AI sighed as if she was now used to our crazy antics.

    "Can you?" I requested.

    "Yeah. There are a lot of vacancies opening every second now. So it won''t be hard."

    "But really? You are willing to enter battle against the daemons for the second time in one day?" Minerva asked incredulously.

    "Do it, please," I looked at the surveillance camera in the processing room and gave my sweetest smile.

    I heard a resigned sigh in my earpiece.

    "Fine. Where would you like to be dropped off?" Minerva asked.

    I looked at Iris, who gave a smug smile. "I know what you are thinking," she chimed.

    I chuckled and told Minerva, "The highest point of the Shield."

    "You are inconceivably bloody mental but consider it done!" she responded.

    I grinned, giving Iris a thumbs-up.

    She looked delighted. "I guess it''s a date then?"

    I raised an eyebrow playfully. "Wasting daemons and scouting out powerhouses?"

    "Sounds awesome! You and me together doing something fun! Kind of sounds like a date, right?" Iris giggled.

    "You are not the only one falling for the crazy and stunning roommate," she said with a coy smile.

    My heart fluttered and my mind raced, but I hid it well and chuckled. "Looks like it''s a date!"

    Minerva groaned.

    "Oh Incarni! Get a room you two! Oh, wait. Anyway! Teleporting in three, two, one!"

    A bright green flash enveloped us, and the next thing I knew, Iris and I stood on the highest watchtower atop the Shield.

    Below us, Deathwalkers and daemons clashed in a vicious battle to the death.

    The echoes and sounds of their violent clash reached our ears as we peered over the black railings of the watchtower.

    "Shall we?" Iris glanced at me with a smile.

    I returned her smile. "Let''s make quite the entrance!"

    With that, we jumped over the railing and plunged into the battlefield below, hearts racing and smiles filled with excitement.

 58 Rest In Pieces

    "Are you bloody kidding me?"

    I stared incredulously at Iris. "They want to join the Lunatics?"

    Iris shrugged. "Well, we are arguably the best unit in the Shield, and these guys are like the super rookies. Makes sense for them to aim for the top squad."

    We were gathered in one of the larger, less-used corridors of Necropolis.

    Overhead light panels cast a stark brightness on the newbies standing before us.

    You know who I''m talking about.

    Carlo Devereux, Ava Baskerville, Krystal Macleod, and the Fray twins stood expectantly, their eyes shifting between Iris and me.

    It had been two weeks since they became Deathwalkers and completed their seven battles, all passing with flying colors.

    The Deathwalkers before us were markedly different from the green recruits of two weeks ago.

    Ava Baskerville avoided my gaze, a tremor evident in her grey eyes.

    Krystal''s crazy demeanor had mellowed, and Carlo seemed perpetually on edge.

    But Ava looked the most affected.

    Word had it she watched a childhood friend die brutally at the hands of a daemon. She even had to kill another close friend who turned into a wraith.

    Such experiences in their first few battles could break a newbie. Yet Ava, despite the trauma, didn''t crumble.

    Instead, she pressed forward with a steely resolve, a testament to the unyielding fortitude instilled in her by the Baskerville Family.

    The Baskerville Family sure is something.

    Then there were Artemis and Apollo, the Fray twins.

    Despite enduring the same horrors as the others, they exuded an unusual calm, as if they''d faced similar challenges before.

    Just what the heck happened to the Frays?

    Despite extensive research, the fall of House Fray remained an intriguing enigma yet to be unraveled.

    Weird. I''ll have to dig deeper. But that''s for another time.

    My attention shifted to a conspicuous absence. "Where is Sean Blackwood?"

    I almost forgot about the guy whose face I turned into a bloody pulp with tarmac.

    While the three from the Axial Families subtly averted their gazes, the twins appeared genuinely baffled by his absence.

    "I have no idea, Vice Captain," Artemis responded.

    "Same," Apollo nodded.

    "He got the split banana treatment," Iris chimed in.

    I blinked. "Really?"

    She nodded. "Saw it myself."

    I arched an eyebrow. "How on Asteris did that happen?"

    "He was caught off guard by a formidable A rank," Iris explained. "And you need an A ranker to overcome another A ranker."

    Ah, yes. That''s the way the power hierarchy works.

    Let me enlighten you, dear readers.

    There''s a significant surge in power when one reaches the A rank and beyond.

    To defeat an A ranker, you must possess the same rank. And this holds true when confronting an S ranker as well.

    While a group of formidable A rankers may hold their own against a single S rank opponent, they would still find themselves outmatched against the S ranker.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    Only an S ranker possesses the capability to overcome another S ranker.

    Such is the substantial gap between B rankers and A rankers, and A rankers and S rankers.

    It appears that young master Blackwood was unfortunate enough to face an A-ranked daemon.

    It''s a pity. I was beginning to develop a fondness for him.

    I sighed. "Oh well, let him rest in pieces."

    "Your Highness!" Carlo looked aghast at my reaction.

    "Calm down, Carlo. Such deaths are commonplace in the Shield." I frowned. "Have you guys really completed your seven battles?"

    The five newbies nodded simultaneously.

    "In just two weeks?" I asked, surprised.

    "Actually, I finished in one week. I was recovering the other week," Carlo interjected.

    "What the heck, man?" I shook my head. "It took me a bloody month to finish my seven battles!"

    "Well, you were F-rank when you first started," Iris pointed out, giving me a knowing look.

    I rolled my eyes and grumbled under my breath.

    "So you guys want to join the Lunatics?" I inquired.

    They all nodded again.

    Ava spoke up. "We heard that Unit 21 is the best in the Shield despite its collection of mentally ill individuals."

    "Jeez. Still sharp with words despite what you experienced," I remarked.

    She avoided my gaze and responded, "A Baskerville moves forward even when everyone they love is dead."

    "I noticed." A smile formed on my lips. "Maintain that mindset. There will be more deaths in the future."

    I looked at Iris. "Well? You are the captain."

    She shrugged. "I guess we take them in. Besides, we are having a personnel shortage."

    "Um," Krystal raised her hand, "Where are the rest of Unit 21, or is it just you two?"

    Iris smiled. "Nah. We aren''t flying solo. The Commander dispatched the rest of the Unit on a lengthy expedition led by our previous captain."

    Artemis narrowed her eyes. "The previous captain isn''t dead?"

    I chuckled. "Nope. He passed the Unit Captaincy to Iris when he achieved the title of Reaper."

    "Reaper?"

    "A title granted to a Deathwalker who accomplishes mind-blowing and legendary feats, making them the most elite in the Shield," I explained.

    Iris nodded. "Our former Captain, Jack Raven, earned the title of Reaper after delivering a devastating blow against Asphodel, an immensely powerful abnormal that notoriously single-handedly massacred multiple Deathwalker Units."

    Yep. You heard her. Asphodel wiped out whole Units of experienced and powerful Deathwalkers on one fine day.

    That''s how insanely powerful that rooty son of a bitch is.

    Anyway.

    I looked at Iris again. "There are five of them. You want to devise some sort of test?"

    She pondered. "Like what?"

    I shrugged. "I don''t know. Something like hunting Pookie Bears? Hopefully, we won''t get swept away by an avalanche."

    Iris''s eye twitched. "You really are not going to let it go, are you?"

    "Never," I grinned.

    "Jerk," she called.

    "Bitch," I responded.

    Iris huffed and turned to face the newbies.

    "Since there are five of you, we would like to see how you will act as a team with us. Think of this as a test."

    She tapped her bracelet, and a holographic map of Les Anciennes popped up. I recognized the Shield, and a red dot marked something a good distance away from it.

    Iris began her briefing.

    "Earlier this week, a group of lower-ranked Deathwalkers explored Les Anciennes and stumbled across what seems to be a broken pathway leading to an ancient ruin."

    "After following the path, they discovered an ancient entrance carefully concealed beneath rocks and snow."

    "Unfortunately, they faced a halt in their progress due to the area being teeming with high-ranked wild ardimals, and they encountered a formidable barrier," she explained.

    "So, they returned to the Shield and shared their findings. Minerva wants us to eliminate the troublesome ardimals and explore further," she finished the briefing.

    Iris grinned. "The initial explorers are fine with us prancing around and discovering the ruin that they discovered first."

    "So." The holographic map disappeared, and Iris stood between me and the newbies, her eyes eager for adventure.

    "Shall we go and explore some ruins?"

    "Yes, Captain!" the five newbies voiced together.

    I chuckled at her enthusiasm and watched her hurry off to get ready.

    "Where are you off to?" I asked, a playful smile on my lips.

    "To our room? To get the necessary stuff?" she responded.

    "Ah." I closed my eyes and nodded. "It''s the other way."

    Iris quickly turned around and walked swiftly past me. "Right! I knew that! I was testing you!"

    I raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "Yeah. You were."

    After she left, I looked at the assembled newbies. "You guys got your rooms?"

    They nodded.

    I smiled. "Good. Get ready and pack some bags. We''re going on a small expedition."

 59 Go Lunatics!

    "Whoa. A Yoyo as your weapon?"

    I watched in awe as Artemis skillfully manipulated a beautiful yoyo while we trekked along the snowy path.

    Her mastery of the seemingly simple toy was truly remarkable. The fluidity of her hand movements, deftly controlling the string to maneuver the Yoyo as she pleased, left me speechless.

    Her skill was almost enchanting, and she did all this while effortlessly navigating the snow-filled rocky trail without a single stumble.

    "I''ve been playing with one since I was five," she explained. "After awakening, I realized that I am best with the Yoyo, so I asked Damien if I could use it as a weapon."

    A wistful smile graced her lips. "He went beyond giving me advice and gifted me a custom-made weaponized Yoyo for my awakening present."

    The Yoyo soared through the air with a flick of her delicate fingers.

    "Here. Take a look. It''s the latest model," she said, releasing the string.

    I deftly caught the dangerous toy in my hand and inspected it. It was a truly amazing piece of craftsmanship.

    Crafted from a special metal that efficiently conducts ardor, the yoyo boasted perfect weight distribution, allowing for a seamless range of movements.

    Intricately carved runes adorned the faces, revealing a myriad of enchantments that rendered the seemingly innocent toy exceedingly perilous, even boasting an enchantment specifically designed to harm daemons.

    The slender string, composed of the same nanomaterial as my bowstring, exhibited exceptional durability and responded effortlessly to the slightest movements.

    As I examined the Yoyo, I noticed a continuous slit along the outer rim of the two robust discs comprising its structure.

    "Hidden circular blades?" I guessed, scrutinizing the weapon closely as we walked.

    Artemis affirmed with a nod. "Correct. Very effective against tough opponents. The blades only activate when my ardor is streamed through them."

    "So if you''re not dead from being walloped in the noggin by an ardor-enhanced Yoyo, the blades will finish the job," I remarked with an amused smile.

    "Interesting." I tossed the lethal toy back to Artemis, who seamlessly resumed her skillful play as soon as she caught it.

    Now I wish I could attach a Yoyo to Iris.

    "Where do you think you''re going?" I called out to Iris, who had ventured ahead of us.

    "Minerva said to take a left turn here," she replied, turning around.

    "That''s the bloody right," I pointed out, standing beside Artemis and Ava on the correct path.

    "Ah, oops," Iris stuck out her tongue, rubbing her head sheepishly.

    I sighed. "And you guys followed her without a single doubt."

    My gaze shifted to Krystal, Apollo, and Carlo standing with Iris. They looked sheepish as they made their way toward us.

    "Really, Carlo?" I crossed my arms, expressing disappointment. "I thought you would guide Iris back."

    "She looked so confident when she took the turn," Carlo explained, giving me the puppy-dog look with his abyssal black eyes.

    I rolled my eyes. "Here''s a tip: if Iris is very confident about the direction she''s going, it''s the wrong direction."

    "Noted," Apollo quipped.

    Opening the map, I examined our remaining route. Iris joined me, looking at the map as well.

    "I guess we''ll get there in an hour if we rush," she suggested.

    "And how do we do that? Run toward the path?" I inquired.

    Her eyes sparkled with excitement. "Exactly! We''re warlocks! Superhumans! Let''s run and even do some parkour."

    My eyebrows furrowed. "On a mountain filled with snow?"

    "It would be a good challenge for our newbies."

    "There are trees and rocks."

    "Perfect obstacles!"

    I sighed. "Fine."

    Closing the map, I nodded to Iris.

    She grinned and addressed the group. "Alright, guys! It''ll take a lot of time if we go at this pace."

    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    "Let''s run to our destination."

    "Are you sure about that?" Ava asked, looking concerned. "I mean, we are in the most dangerous mountain range in the world."

    "It''s going to be fine. All of us are B-rank and above. Consider this intensive training," Iris reassured everyone.

    "There are powerful wild ardimals in Les Anciennes, right? What do we do about them?" Carlo asked, expressing similar concerns.

    Iris pondered his question. "Since we are high-ranked, they would most probably avoid us. But if they attack us, we must be sure to respond accordingly."

    "So, shall we start running?" she asked, looking at everyone.

    The newbies glanced at me, appearing very much concerned. I simply nodded with a smile. "No worries, guys. We''re with you."

    "That''s what I am most concerned about," Ava said.

    I chuckled. "Lucky you."

    *******

    "There''s the path."

    Artemis pointed at the side of the mountain towering before us.

    From the small cliff providing a vantage point over the mountain''s base, the stone path carved into the cold, unyielding rock wound halfway around the mountain before disappearing into the clouds and snow.

    Apollo whistled, craning his neck to gaze up at the mountain.

    "That is going to be one bitch of a climb."

    We all nodded in agreement as our eyes followed the path down to its starting point.

    "And those must be the ardimals the other group encountered," Carlo noted, pointing downward.

    At the mountain''s base, a vast swarm of ardimals, comprising multiple packs of Frost Hounds, a small group of Glacial Hornbears, a few clusters of long lizards resembling ice sculptures called Cryoscales, and a large group of humanoid ape-like creatures with white fur tinged with blue, came into view.

    Even from this distance, the glint of their long claws and fangs made of ice was discernible.

    "Those Frostclaw Primates sure look intimidating," Artemis remarked. "I assume most of those ardimals are about C and B ranks?"

    "You''re close, Artemis. Most of them are C ranked, with a few B ranks," I confirmed using my Omni contacts.

    "Three of those ardimals are beginner A ranks, likely the strongest alphas in the swarm," I explained.

    I focused on the largest and most formidable-looking Frost Hound, a massive Pookie Bear with two curling horns protruding from its head, and a humongous Primate with icicle tusks and glowing blue eyes.

    Pointing first at Iris and then at Carlo, I declared, "The three of us will handle the A ranks."

    I turned to the rest. "Can you guys handle the rest?"

    I realize I am asking too much. Even if most of them are C ranks, there are a lot of these ardimals.

    But to my surprise, all of them looked very confident.

    "They''re not daemons, Vice Captain. We''ll take care of them," Ava replied with a smirk.

    "I wonder if the ice would melt if we put Cryoscale meat on the grill?" Apollo mused aloud with a dreamy smile.

    "I heard the icicle horns of the Hornbears are quite permanent. They would make good decorations for the room," Krystal said with a crazy smile.

    "I need to test my Yoyo in low temperatures and snowy conditions. This is perfect!" Artemis exclaimed with an excited smile of her own.

    I heard a chuckle and turned to Iris. "Now they look like they belong to the Lunatics."

    Carlo looked concerned as he gazed at the A-ranked alphas. "You think I will be able to pull this off?"

    "You''re the strongest newbie I have ever met. You''ll be fine as long as you don''t panic," I reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

    "Just imagine Mordred''s face instead of your opponent''s. It will even boost your attacks," Iris suggested with a wry grin.

    Carlo grinned. "Yeah, that''ll work."

    "Hey!" I protested. "If you''re envious of my divine charm, say it to my face!"

    Iris rolled her eyes. "Oh, Incarni! Divine charm? How self-absorbed can you be?"

    "Sounds like whining to me," I retorted.

    "I''m not!"

    "I know you''re captivated by my otherworldly allure. You don''t need to complain about it." I ran a hand through my messy white hair and grinned.

    Iris shuddered. "You''re getting delusional, Mordred."

    Despite saying that, I could see her looking flustered, as if secretly agreeing with me.

    "Says the one who spends half an hour in the bathroom admiring herself in the mirror and inventing strange scenarios," I teased.

    Iris''s eye twitched, and she cracked her knuckles. "You''re itching for a beating, aren''t you?"

    Tendrils of darkness rose from her shoulders, and tiny black lightning crackled as her eyes glowed, and she smiled menacingly.

    "I think I am." Blood seeped out of my skin through my pores and expanded to encircle my body.

    The ground began to shake as our auras gradually rose in intensity.

    We glared at each other, menacing smiles on our faces.

    Just before we could clash, Carlo jumped between us.

    "Whoa! Don''t fight amongst yourselves," he spoke up and raised his aura as well.

    "Let''s direct that toward the ardimals," he suggested and looked down, only to swear.

    "Shit. Looks like they noticed us."

    Roars, barking, growls, and hisses resonated from below as almost every single ardimal at the base of the path looked up, their feral eyes locked on us three.

    Howls pierced the air as the Frost Hounds rushed toward the cliff, followed by the Cryoscales and Hornbears.

    The alphas slowly trotted behind, allowing the weaker creatures to act as a shield.

    "There''s a lot of them," Ava commented.

    "I know," I agreed. "The other groups mentioned that the ardimals only attacked after they passed, so they didn''t need to worry about a swarm like this."

    "But there''s no other way for us to climb the path," Iris added. "We''ll have to clear them out."

    "Fine by me," I said, cracking my neck and shifting my shoulders.

    "Alright, Lunatics!" Iris called out, looking at everyone.

    "Let''s clear them out!"

 60 A Glorified Ape Violates My Eyes

    Apollo botched the landing.

    The boy slipped and fell on his face as soon as his feet touched the snowy ground.

    "Ouch!" He rubbed his reddened face as the ardimals closed in.

    One job, Apollo.

    You had one job.

    In a flash of crimson, my tentacles shredded two Frost Hounds that pounced on him, their blood spraying all over the young Fray.

    "Thanks!" he beamed at me, seemingly unfazed by the blood splattered all over him.

    "Focus, man," I warned.

    Something bonked Apollo on the head and sent him back into the cold snow. It was a familiar Yoyo.

    "Get serious, dumbass," Artemis scowled and spun her Yoyo.

    A Cryoscale jumped behind her, only to have its head bashed into ice shards by her ardor-enhanced Yoyo.

    Another got wrapped in the string, and with a gentle tug of her fingers, Artemis cut the ice lizard into pieces.

    Blue blood splattered all over her. Unfazed, she looked at me, "Go. My moronic brother and I will take care of this side."

    I nodded, "Good. There are a lot of these scaly beasties. Be careful."

    I whistled, and Basil slithered past me with tremendous speed, clamping her jaws around the throat of a Frost Hound.

    The hound struggled against the relentless grip of the mechanima, howling in pain as the venom burned it from the inside.

    Within seconds, its body sagged, becoming an emaciated bag of burned flesh and dissolved bones sloshing inside its furry skin.

    "Basil. Dial the venom down so that the body will not be extensively damaged. This is just too gross," I told her.

    Nodding in acknowledgment, my mechanima continued her onslaught against the ardimals.

    She effortlessly maneuvered through hordes of Cryoscales and Frost Hounds, adjusting the size and length of her body with seamless precision.

    She wrapped her long body around a massive Pookie Bear, transformed her head into the ardor cannon, and blasted the creature in the face, bringing it down instantly.

    Without pause, she pounced on a Cryoscale, her long fangs sinking into the icy scales of the lizard.

    After violently shaking the creature, she tossed it into a pack of hounds and raised her body imposingly, releasing a terrifying hiss that made even the B-ranked alphas tremble in their spots.

    I smiled proudly at the performance of my mechanima.

    That''s my girl.

    Speaking of performance, I turned my gaze to the rest of the group.

    The Fray twins were engaged in a seamless dance of combat, taking on Pookie Bears with flawless coordination.

    Their movements cleverly covered each other''s openings, showcasing a significant level of experience working together.

    Artemis''s golden eyes glowed, and winds whipped her hair around as she utilized her Aeris strand, imbuing her Yoyo with it to deliver devastating blows to the Glacial Hornbears with unparalleled focus and precision.

    Who knew Yoyos could be weapons of mass destruction?

    Apollo, on the other hand, was enjoying his slaughter.

    Sharp blades of water trailed off his chained blades as he swung them with manic precision, his excited golden eyes glowing with the power of Aqua as he effortlessly sliced the bears into substantial chunks of meat.

    Water and wind. What an awesome combination.

    Another excited member of the group was Krystal Macleod.

    She laughed excitedly like a little kid in a candy store.

    Her rapier and strand moved in incredible harmony, creating a mesmerizing dance.

    It seemed like she was effortlessly gliding among the Frost Hounds, her rapier emanating an ethereal glow and leaving a trail of mist swirling around her.

    The ice lances she summoned relentlessly drove the hounds to the ground, and the intense cold froze their bodies in place.

    In this cold wintery terrain, it was clear that such an environment would allow her to go crazy with her powers.

    And crazy she is. Her laughter is giving me the willies.

    Yep, she would undoubtedly fit right in with the Lunatics.

    On the other side of the spectrum was Ava Baskerville.

    Initially, I assumed she was a bow or sword user.

    Boy was I wrong.

    Ava had broken into the rear line of Frostclaw Primates, tearing their flesh apart with metallic claws as if she were a hunting dog unleashed upon a helpless fox.

    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    I observed with my keen battle-hardened eye and experience and was utterly blown away by her skills.

    Contrary to appearances, every seemingly violent and unrestrained attack was a carefully controlled and efficient action executed with absolute finesse.

    Her combat skills were nothing short of amazing, and she wasn''t even utilizing her strand. This must be the renowned Baskerville combat arts.

    Baskervilles were known for not relying heavily on their strands, focusing instead on ardor body enhancement, aura refinement, and superior combat arts.

    As a result, they were celebrated for their perfect ardor control and boasted the highest number of Spikers in the Kingdom.

    It is said that a Baskerville would only activate their strand when they deemed their combat skills insufficient.

    Witnessing a Baskerville using their strand was a rare occurrence, known only to a select few.

    Such was the power of their combat arts, and I coveted it.

    I activated my stigma, Talent Echo.

    My eyes absorbed every movement executed by Ava in her battle against the primates, flooding my mind with the knowledge of Baskerville''s combat arts.

    My fingers twitched, itching to unleash the absolute devastation behind the claws of a Baskerville Hunting Dog.

    The Hunting Dogs of Baskervilles served as a personal army of highly skilled Spikers and Linkers.

    Standing above them all was the infamous Hound.

    My fingers twitched once more.

    The Hound of Baskerville.

    A name that struck fear even into the hearts of the Knights of the Round.

    The deadliest assassin in the Kingdom.

    If Ava Baskerville displayed such strength, I couldn''t help but wonder about the prowess of the Hound.

    I suddenly have the urge to fight him.

    I should seek him out after leaving the Shield.

    Looks like I have an idea of what to do next year.

    You might be wondering how I managed to observe my group members and deliver a monologue about the Baskervilles while being surrounded by wild ardimals.

    Well, the answer is quite easy.

    My blood tentacles are doing an impeccable job of ensuring my safety.

    The six blood tentacles sprouting off my back lashed out at every ardimal pouncing on me with absolute precision, as if possessing a mind of their own.

    They sliced, diced, skewered, stabbed, bashed, and even pulled apart limbs.

    Truly multipurpose indeed.

    Soon, I found myself encircled by an ever-growing ring of mutilated Frost Hounds, skewered Cryoscales, and neatly sliced pieces of Pookie Bears, all ready for cooking.

    Well, except for the hounds. They are quite nasty.

    I sensed two familiar auras approaching. I reined in my tentacles as Iris floated above me on her fairy wings of darkness, and Carlo materialized beside me, his body enveloped in crackling red lightning.

    "You guys are late," I remarked, still keeping my eyes on Ava gracefully maneuvering through two Primates.

    Having completed my information acquisition, I turned to Iris, "Don''t tell me you lost your way falling down the cliff."

    Iris looked offended, "Hey! I''m not that directionally challenged!"

    She gestured toward the dense woods on the side of our current location.

    "Perry detected another large horde of monsters rushing toward this place from that part of the woods."

    "We went to take care of them," Carlo added. "Captain Iris almost got lost trying to navigate out of the woods, though."

    "Shut your trap, Devereux!" Iris snapped, black lightning crackling off her body.

    "So. Shall we take care of the big boys?" She crossed her arms and looked into the distance.

    As soon as those words left her mouth, a powerful shockwave rolled over the land, and a blood-chilling roar, followed by a howl, shook the ground.

    The auras of three A ranks shook the air as the three largest alphas appeared along the slope

    A massive Frost Hound, its head and back adorned with colossal ice spikes, unleashed a bone-chilling howl, exposing its massive teeth, its blue eyes radiating primal savagery.

    The largest alpha, an A-ranked Frostclaw Primate, roared ferociously and pounded its chest, each hit releasing shockwaves.

    The two-horned Pookie Bear beside them rose onto its hind legs, unleashing a thunderous roar that triggered a mini avalanche, blowing snow toward us.

    "I got it!" Krystal yelled, plunging her rapier into the ground.

    {Ice Fortification}

    Sub-strand codes, unlike Strand codes, don''t require the warlock to use the sub-strand name for activation.

    The ground rumbled as a tall rugged wall of ice erupted a few feet before us, blocking the avalanche with a shudder.

    As the wall collapsed into ice pieces, Krystal, visibly exhausted, gave a thumbs-up.

    "You''re welcome."

    I nodded and looked forward.

    "We should finish this," Iris declared.

    Carlo and I nodded in agreement.

    "Will this be fine?" Carlo asked nervously.

    "Definitely," I reassured with a sweet smile.

    We leaned forward and shot toward the three alphas. Fortunately, the previous avalanche had buried the other small fries.

    Any stragglers met a grisly end at the hands of Iris''s rods of darkness, my blood tentacles, and Carlo''s lightning-infused claymore.

    <div>

    <div>

    <div>

    <div>

    "Carlo, you take the Frost Hound!" Iris yelled over the howl of the wind.

    "Understood!" Carlo yelled back.

    She looked down at me from the air as she flew, "Mordred! Pookie Bear?"

    I shook my head, "Nah! I''ll take the glorified ape! The readers have already seen a Pookie Bear and a Frost Hound!"

    "Very well!" she nodded and grinned sadistically, "Here, Pookie Pookie!"

    We came to a stop just below the ledge where the ardimals stood.

    We looked up and met their wild eyes, releasing our auras as a challenge.

    "Be careful, Vice-Captain. The alpha Primate has a very unnerving display of intimidation," Carlo warned.

    "What does it do?" I asked, keeping my eyes on the Primate, noticing a sinister smile forming on its hideous face.

    Carlo suddenly sounded awkward, "It flashes its enemies."

    "What?" Iris and I looked at his very disturbed face.

    As if on cue, the Frostclaw roared and thumped its chest before grabbing the thick white fur covering its lower body.

    With another roar, it flashed us.

    I need bleach, salt, and holy water from the Order of Lux to cleanse my eyes from what I just saw.

    Oh, and wraith-killing flames. That is a must.

    I''m not going to even describe what I saw.

    "Yep. That was definitely intimidating," I rubbed my poor violated eyes.

    Iris, on the other hand, was frowning, "Why is it throbbing?"

    She looked more curious than disturbed.

    "Iris! Not the time and place!" Carlo and I looked at her, bewildered at her shamelessness.

    The alphas took the opportunity at our distraction and pounced on us from above.

    We quickly jumped back a good distance just as the ardimals landed on different locations on the snowy ground in clouds of disturbed snow and a slight tremble to the ground.

    "All the best!" Iris called out and flew toward the Pookie Bear.

    "Don''t die," I told Carlo. The young man, who was older than me, nodded and enveloped his body with lightning.

    With a crackle of electricity, he dashed toward the howls of the Frost Hound.

    "Now then," I cracked my neck and put away my daggers.

    Blood swirled along my arm and enveloped my fists, shaping into blood gauntlets with claws.

    Crystallized blood lined the tips of the claws and glinted wickedly.

    Blood crystallization, especially for Haema users, was no easy feat. Despite my high rank, I had only managed partial crystallization, primarily coating the tips of my tentacles.

    Flexing my fingers, I observed the intricate movement of the blood claws.

    The snow cloud before me dispersed with a powerful roar, revealing the towering Frostclaw Primate Alpha.

    Its fur quivered as it growled and looked down on me, clicking its huge icicle tusks.

    The aura it emitted was utterly terrifying. This beast can raze a small city and multiple villages to the ground if unhindered.

    But I can take it.

    It''s not a daemon, with the full power of its rank behind its every attack.

    No, it was a wild ardimal, a creature that looked down on others and seldom used its full strength.

    "You''re going to pay for violating my beautiful eyes," I calmly declared, meeting its gaze with amusement.

    "I''ll make you dance to the death, monkey."

 61 Buzz Bunny

    The Frostclaw Primate, towering and covered in thick white fur, roared furiously, swinging its icy claws toward Mordred with such force that it whipped up a powerful gust of wind.

    But its strike found only empty air.

    The Primate sensed a terrifyingly powerful aura behind it, and an involuntary shudder passed through its massive body.

    It swiftly turned around, bracing itself for what was to come, but a razor-sharp blood tentacle lashed out, slamming against its arms and sending it skidding across the cold, snowy ground.

    Blood oozed from the deep gashes, staining its pristine white fur a dark crimson.

    The Primate alpha shook off the attack and roared in defiance.

    "Quit yapping, will you? My ears are beginning to hurt," Mordred appeared before the beast, his blood claws slashing at its face with precision.

    The Primate roared in agony as one of its eyes was ripped away by the ferocious attack. Enraged and wounded, it instantly retaliated with a powerful swipe.

    Enhancing his body with ardor, Mordred blocked the strike, but the impact sent him tumbling to the side.

    His tentacles whipped around, and he landed on the ground. He crouched, streamed ardor into his legs, and shot forward, his tentacles trailing behind him.

    He noticed ice particles converging around the Primate''s mouth and frowned.

    ''So this guy knows how to use a sub-strand,'' he thought, a smile tugging at his lips. ''This is going to be fun!''

    The alpha puffed out its chest, unleashing a chilling icy breath that froze everything in its path.

    Mordred activated transcendence, gracefully sidestepping the oncoming breath attack that tore through the ground, leaving a trail of frozen destruction in its wake.

    "That would have been nasty," he muttered, his gaze fixed on his adversary.

    The one-eyed Primate launched itself at him, its relentless onslaught of icy claws tearing through the earth with formidable power.

    Mordred flexed his claws and met the attacks with fierce parries, deflecting each devastating blow with violent finesse.

    Before his transcendent state, the Frostclaw Primate''s attacks looked like they were moving through syrup.

    Mordred could discern the intricate details of each strike, the raw power rippling the ardor-rich air of the mountains.

    Getting struck by them definitely won''t be pretty.

    Deflecting another icy claw, he quickly darted to the side. His crimson eyes glowed, and blood surged into his palm.

    Scarlet runes encircled his arm as he unleashed Blood Grenade at the beast''s arm.

    The explosion of crimson was soon followed by the deafening howls and roars of the alpha Frostclaw as it jumped back, its left arm mangled and bleeding profusely with broken claws.

    With a menacing glare from its remaining blue eye, the alpha Frostclaw locked onto Mordred, its murderous intent palpable in the frigid air.

    It opened its mouth and unleashed another roar that reverberated throughout the valley.

    Mordred felt his muscles seize up, constricted by the primal force of its powerful sound waves.

    "This is different," he grimaced, recognizing it as the commanding call of an alpha.

    His suspicions were confirmed as multiple roars echoed behind him, signaling the approach of the remaining Frostclaw Primates drawn by their leader''s call.

    With a quick pivot, Mordred faced the oncoming horde, their ferocious roars, and bared icicle-like teeth signaling their frenzied state induced by the alpha''s command.

    ''Seems like the alpha''s roar put them in an enraged state,'' Mordred observed and rushed toward the white apes.

    His eyes glowed, and blood swirled around his arm, elongating his lethal claws into razor-sharp weapons.

    He accelerated his blood, and with a burst of speed, Mordred blurred into motion, closing the distance to the approaching primates in the blink of an eye.

    "Just bloody die," he said and unleashed the full force of the Baskerville combat arts on the ardimals.

    His serrated blood claws shredded fur, flesh, and bone with ruthless efficiency, transforming the snowy ground into a macabre canvas of crimson spray as the primates met their demise.

    Mordred exhaled a cloud of mist as he caught his breath. He''s been using Ava''s skills for about five minutes, and his headache''s getting worse.

    But he couldn''t afford to deactivate his stigma. To do so would leave him defenseless and skillless for a critical period of time.

    "Calling your subordinates to their death must''ve given you the necessary recovery time," Mordred remarked as the alpha appeared behind him without a single noise.

    With lightning speed, the alpha swiped its intact arm at Mordred, its claws gouging the earth as they closed in on their target.

    Mordred''s blood tentacles moved forward to protect him but were swiftly torn apart by the sheer force of the attack.

    For a fleeting moment, the Primate felt a surge of triumph as its claws neared Mordred''s vulnerable skin.

    It anticipated the satisfaction of inflicting true pain on the human.

    That is if the strike had landed

    In the briefest moment, just a split second before the claws could reach his face, Mordred intercepted the alpha''s attack with his bare hands, halting it with astonishing strength.

    The ground trembled as the force of the strike was deflected, obliterating the earth beside them.

    The Primate stared in shock, unable to process what had just happened.

    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Did the small human just catch its attack with his hand?

    As it locked eyes with Mordred, the Primate was gripped by a newfound emotion it had never experienced in its savage existence.

    Fear.

    "Shall we end this?" Mordred''s voice dripped with boredom as he regarded the bewildered creature before him.

    With a surge of ardor and blood, Mordred crushed the Primate''s icy claws with his bare hands. Flesh tore and bones snapped as he violently tore its arm from its shoulder.

    Before the ardimal could scream, he smacked it with its own arm and pointed the broken remains of the claws at its lower body.

    In another burst of ardor, he drove the severed arm right into its biggest tool for intimidation.

    The alpha Frostclaw Primate, one of the mighty creatures that ruled this valley, howled in pain and fell to its knees before the young prince.

    But Mordred wasn''t done.

    His blood tentacles reformed and surged forward, piercing the ardimal''s upright body and pinning it to the frozen, now crimson ground.

    The alpha Primate, now in utter agony, raised its head and locked its terrified eyes onto the glowing crimson eyes of the monster before it.

    What a horrifying being.

    This would have been the Primate''s thought if it could form words.

    Mordred looked down on the trembling, blood-soaked ardimal, a sadistic smile appearing on his lips.

    He raised his serrated, deadly blood claws, an insane glint in his glowing crimson eyes.

    "You''ll only die when I am done with you. I''ll make sure of that."

    *******

    The Primate died just as I was finishing my handiwork.

    Just as I had promised.

    By the time I was done with it, the bloody and shredded pile of flesh no longer resembled a Frostclaw Primate.

    It eerily resembled the bodies I witnessed in my nightmares.

    Yeah. I still have nightmares of the crimson sky, the blackened stars, and the endless sea of lifeless bodies.

    With each passing year, those dreams grew more vivid and more terrifying, until even the faces of fallen comrades began to haunt me, questioning why I alone remained among the living.

    A shudder passed through my body as my eyes fell on the shredded corpse of the Primate alpha.

    Incarni!

    I need to visit my therapist one of these days.

    Yep. I now have a therapist. Being a Deathwalker can be quite stressful to the mind.

    Clouds of mist escaped my mouth as I recovered my breath and deactivated my stigma.

    Immediately, knowledge of all skills ingrained in my mind and body vanished like a mist.

    I would be skillless for some time.

    My blood claws and tentacles dissipated into crimson mist as I deactivated Haema.

    "Now that is horrifying," Iris remarked as she stood beside me, admiring my handiwork.

    In her hands, she held two curled horns from the Pookie Bear that looked like they were intricately carved from pure ice.

    I snorted, "Look who''s talking."

    The horns Iris held were the only parts of the Glacial Hornbear that were in good condition.

    The rest of the bear was, well...

    Let''s just say that, like the Primate, it no longer resembled an alpha Glacial Hornbear that was living and breathing a few minutes ago.

    I looked down at my handiwork and noticed that the tusks of the Primate remained quite unscathed.

    "Oh well," I shrugged and pulled out the icy tusks covered in blood and gore, immediately placing them in the storage of my bracelet.

    Parts of certain ardimals can be used to make a wide variety of items and are quite valuable. These icy tusks can be used to make a weapon or potion.

    And these are from an A-ranked alpha, so they''ll fetch a good price.

    "You two are diabolical," Carlo''s disturbed tone made us turn around to see him approaching us.

    His claymore, crackling with residual energy, rested against his shoulder as he surveyed the scene before him.

    The body of the alpha Frost Hound he fought lay smoking and skewered on one of the many conifer trees making up the woods near our location.

    Compared to our absolutely eviscerated foes, the Frost Hound looked relatively intact and could be easily harvested for its body parts.

    I whistled as I raised my head to see the hound skewered by the tall tree.

    "Well, I''ll be," I remarked with a grin. "Didn''t know Frost Hounds could fly."

    I looked at him, "You can fly?"

    Carlo offered a modest shrug in response. "I can jump pretty high with a little boost from Fulgur," he explained.

    "Managed to launch the hound into that tree with a well-placed strike before giving it an electrical finish."

    I arched my eyebrows, "Must''ve smelled delicious."

    Iris''s eyes sparkled with excitement as she made a playful observation.

    "So you''re like a lightning bunny!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands excitedly.

    "A Buzz Bunny!"

    Carlo winced at the nickname, "Please don''t."

    "Buzz Bunny? Sounds just like you, Carlo," Krystal''s playful voice rang out as she and the others approached us.

    Despite the recent battle against a massive horde of ardimals, they appeared relatively unscathed, save for a few scratches and cuts.

    Artemis, twirling her bloodstained yoyo, chimed in with a smirk, "Sounds cute."

    Her brother couldn''t help but join in, snickering at the nickname, "Buzz Bunny. Hehe."

    Ava Baskerville trailed close behind, her eyes falling on the bodies of the A-ranked alphas.

    Her attention lingered on the Frostclaw Primate, now a mangled mess of fur and flesh.

    "Those cuts. This level of precise violence," Ava remarked, her tone tinged with shock as she approached for a closer inspection, "Baskerville style?"

    She turned to me.

    "You did this?"

    I nodded with a grin, "Yep. Executed by yours truly."

    Ava''s curiosity was piqued further and she fixed her grey eyes on me.

    "Now that you mention it," she continued, "I noticed you using my exact skills when fighting the alpha."

    "How do you know the Baskerville combat arts?" she inquired, suspicion evident in her voice.

    I just smiled at her, "It''s my stigma, Miss Baskerville. I can copy the skills of another."

    She was surprised, "That is your stigma? It''s basically a cheat!"

    She wasted no time in probing further, "What is the cost?"

    "Mostly a headache," I replied and stuck out my tongue, "No way I am going to tell you the full cost of my stigma. Especially to a Baskerville."

    "Tch!" Ava clicked her tongue, looking disappointed.

    She then turned to Carlo, "Really? Buzz Bunny?"

    Despite his victory over the Frost Hound, Carlo sighed in defeat.

    "Not you too," he moaned.

    I and Iris laughed, and then our gazes fell on the ancient path up the mountain.

    "Can you feel it?" she asked, her voice tinged with excitement.

    I nodded in response.

    An ancient and powerful wave of ardor emanated from the depths of the mountain, hidden beneath the omnipresent strong ardor of the surrounding peaks.

    A sense of adventure stirred in me, a yearning to grasp the unknown. It was the same feeling I had during the quest for the Holy Grail in my old world.

    I gazed at the ancient stones forming the pathway up the mountain.

    "Just what are you hiding?"

 62 I Kinda Ruin An Ancient Ruin

    "I suddenly have the urge to jump off the path."

    Iris peered over the edge into the abyss, the enveloping clouds shrouding the mountain below. Her voice carried a casual recklessness that made my heart skip a beat.

    I nodded in agreement, "Yeah. We all have that urge."

    For hours, we''d been trekking along the narrow path etched into the mountainside, inching our way toward the midpoint of the colossal landform.

    It was a treacherous climb, with no handrails and ancient stones that often dislodged, tumbling down the steep slopes.

    One wrong step, and we could take a permanent plunge into the clouds.

    With each turn around the mountain, the air grew thinner, and the temperature plummeted, testing our endurance.

    If we weren''t superhumans wearing advanced uniforms with temperature control, our small group would''ve long died without proper mountain climbing gear.

    The biting, high-speed winds whipped at our hair, stung our faces, and threatened to send us hurtling over the precipice.

    Unbelievable! We were almost halfway up the mountain, and things were this crazy! This mountain is bloody colossal!

    As we ascended, it wasn''t just the wind that intensified. The ancient ardor I''d sensed at the mountain''s base now saturated the very air we breathed.

    I activated the ardor meter on my bracelet, and it went mental, showing an astonishingly high reading of ardor.

    The ardor was so dense I could practically taste it, a bitter dark chocolate flavor dancing on my tongue.

    For reference, normal ardor tastes like regular chocolate. Don''t ask me how I know the taste of ardor��it''s a tale from a rather peculiar evening.

    I turned around to check on the rookies. Carlo looked resolutely ahead, scanning for loose stones while gripping his claymore, alert as if expecting enemies to descend the path.

    Behind him, Ava clung to the mountainside, her grey eyes fixed ahead, deliberately avoiding the edge and its precipitous drop.

    Her nerves were palpable, a sharp contrast to her earlier confidence.

    Looks like somebody is not too fond of heights.

    A mischievous grin crept across my lips as I contemplated the array of pranks I could pull on Ava.

    Following the apprehensive Baskerville, Krystal walked dangerously close to the edge, her expression hinting at a shared inclination to leap into the abyss, much like Iris and me.

    Trailing behind her at the rear were the Fray twins. Artemis played with her Yoyo, wearing a bored expression as she strolled along the precipice, occasionally letting it dangle over the edge before deftly reeling it back in.

    Meanwhile, Apollo defied gravity, walking backward and firing water bullets with a finger gun.

    How he managed such a feat without toppling over or hurtling down the mountainside remained a mystery to me.

    Truly a colorful group of characters.

    "Are you all holding up?" I shouted above the roaring wind, which had intensified in both ferocity and chill.

    "ABSOLUTELY NOT!" Ava''s response echoed back, her eyes inadvertently glancing toward the edge before she let out a panicked yelp.

    Clamping her eyes shut, she pressed herself against the icy, rugged surface of the mountain. "I loathe heights!" Her cry was nearly lost amidst the frigid gales.

    "Yep, we''re doing awesome!" Krystal hollered over the winds, flashing a thumbs-up while balancing precariously on one leg at the edge.

    By the Incarni! Did this girl possess any sense of fear?

    Apollo called out from the rear, "All this walking and climbing is getting boring! Are we there yet?"

    Iris shot him a smile. "We''ll be there soon. Perry and Basil should return from recon shortly." She deftly sidestepped a dislodged stone and veered left.

    Except, there was no left.

    "OI! WATCH WHERE YOU''RE GOING!" I lunged forward, snagging her collar just in time to prevent her from hurtling off the mountainside.

    Iris stuck out her tongue. "Oops."

    "The path goes only one way! How do you manage to mess that up?" I exclaimed in frustration. This girl is utterly hopeless!

    Just before I could give her a piece of my mind, a familiar cry, and hiss pierced through the wind''s howl as Perry and Basil descended the path ahead of us.

    A smile spread across my face at the sight of my beloved mechanima. The white mechanical serpent had shrunk to the size of a rat snake, her green eyes glowing with familiarity and warmth as soon as she saw me.

    Basil emitted a contented hiss and coiled around my leg, tilting her adorable head to the side, clearly delighted to see me.

    "Were you nice with Perry?" I asked, stroking her head. Basil emitted a satisfied hiss and offered an innocent nod, indicating that she had indeed been on her best behavior.

    A disgruntled squawk erupted from Perry as he leveled an accusatory glare at her with his glowing blue eyes.

    Raising an eyebrow, I glanced back at Basil, only to find her attention diverted to Carlo, who seemed uneasy under the mechanima''s gaze.

    I sighed, deciding to address the matter later.

    "Did you have a good look ahead?" I asked. Basil nodded affirmatively with a hiss, while Perry confirmed with a squawk.

    Iris smiled and stroked Perry''s silver feathers. "Can you show us what you saw?"

    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    Perry eagerly nodded before shooting Basil a smug look. I hadn''t realized mechanimas could exude such smugness.

    Basil''s eyes glimmered, and she parted her jaws with a menacing hiss, her fangs gleaming dangerously.

    "Easy there," I reassured, patting her small head. "Let''s give him a chance. But you''re still the finest mechanima I''ve ever known."

    Basil turned her head towards me, the menacing glow in her emerald eyes fading as she visibly relaxed, even sporting a hint of smugness in response to my compliment.

    Again. How do they even do that?

    Perry''s eyes glowed as he projected a holographic screen, displaying the video footage captured from his perspective.

    Gathering around Iris, we watched intently as Perry soared high above the path, with Basil trailing closely behind on the ground.

    After completing another sweep around the mountain, the end of the ancient path came into view, emerging from the shroud of clouds and mist.

    And it took our breaths away. The sight left us speechless.

    "No way. Is something like that really on this mountain?" Carlo exclaimed in disbelief as he watched the footage.

    "It''s colossal!" Ava exclaimed in wonder.

    "Look at the intricate details," Artemis remarked, squinting to discern the finer elements visible in the video.

    The footage showcased the magnificent sight from various angles as Perry circled around, capturing as much information as possible.

    Meanwhile, Basil swiftly maneuvered on the ground, gathering intel from her unique vantage point.

    It seemed Perry made one final circle around the area before descending the mountain, with Basil closely following suit.

    The video paused just as I grabbed Iris''s collar to prevent her from plummeting.

    "Well, that was a close one," Iris remarked casually, to which I responded with a smack on her head.

    "You think?" I scowled, still reeling from the near mishap.

    Shaking my head with a sigh, I addressed Perry, "Thanks for the heads up," earning a cheerful squawk in response.

    I exchanged a glance with Iris, and we silently agreed on our next course of action.

    "We''re almost at our destination," Iris announced to the rookies, her lips curling into a mischievous grin. "Shall we go uncover an ancient ruin?"

    "Hell yeah!" Apollo whooped, echoed by enthusiastic nods from the others, their eyes alight with excitement and anticipation of adventure.

    "Alright, follow me!" Iris exclaimed, stepping forward, only for me to snag her collar once again.

    "Not so fast," I interjected with a knowing look. "You''re probably the last person who should be leading the way." I nodded toward Basil.

    "Since Perry isn''t the most reliable navigator either, Basil will be our guide."

    "Aw, man," Iris pouted, crossing her arms.

    I shook my head at her and turned to Basil with a smile.

    "Lead the way, Basil."

    *******

    "I''ve already seen it in the video, but damn. It''s even more impressive now that I''m here in person," I remarked with a whistle as I gazed upon the breathtaking sight before me.

    After another hour of climbing, we arrived at a sizable plateau on the northern face of the mountain, perfectly concealed by snow, mist, and clouds.

    It was as though a massive scoop had been taken out of the mountainside, leaving behind a flat, rocky expanse.

    Like ice cream.

    I now have the sudden urge to eat ice cream.

    Stretching out before us were the crumbling remnants of an ancient time.

    Weathered arches of white stone, still retaining a hint of their former grandeur despite the ravages of time, loomed overhead.

    Towering columns, possibly crafted from marble, stood sentinel-like, even as the structures they once supported lay in ruins.

    Decaying statues, resembling various ardimals, were scattered throughout the area as we ventured in.

    Judging by the layout, plots bordered by stones, columns, arches, and statues, it appeared this was once a garden.

    We split up to explore the ruins further. I paired off with Artemis, navigating through archways and over crumbling walls.

    "Amazing," Artemis breathed, her eyes wide with wonder as she reached out to touch one of the columns.

    "The craftsmanship here is ancient, likely predating the establishment of the Kingdom," she remarked in awe.

    I gave her a curious look. "You into archeology?"

    "I''m obsessed," she replied, her golden eyes glittering with excitement. "This is mind-blowing!"

    I nodded in agreement. She wasn''t the only one captivated by this place.

    Despite the relentless passage of time and the harsh mountain environment, these structures had managed to remain in this place.

    And they were still beautiful, especially the statues. Though crumbling, the level of detail on them was extraordinary.

    Just what the heck is this place?

    "This is quite an unexpected discovery on the mountain," I remarked, surveying the ruins from where I stood.

    I noticed the ancient stone path we had followed merged with another path made of faded white stone that wound through the heart of the ruins, with numerous smaller paths branching off.

    "Interesting," I murmured, poking a small arch, only for it to topple beneath my touch.

    Panic surged through me.

    Had I just ruined an ancient ruin?

    Artemis gave me a reassuring smile. "Don''t worry. It''s quite common, especially to stones exposed to these conditions for a long time."

    "Notice anything unusual?" she asked.

    "What do you mean, unusual?" I frowned, and then realization dawned on me.

    The wind and heavy snowfall had ceased.

    While we''d encountered wild weather halfway up the mountain, now the ruins were eerily calm, with only a layer of snow covering the ground, effectively concealing the white stones of the main pathway.

    An almost unsettling silence enveloped us as we stood before a solitary column, the only sounds being the crunch of snow underfoot and the thud of our boots.

    "What the...?" I surveyed the ruins, searching for an explanation.

    "It''s like we''re in a bubble," Artemis remarked.

    "Like a barrier," I concluded, my eyes narrowing. "Curious."

    A barrier on a mountain? Intriguing.

    "Hmm," I mused, then carefully touched the smooth column.

    The marble was icy cold, but I ran my fingers along its ridged surface. I streamed a small amount of ardor through my arm and into the column.

    "Very curious," I remarked, meeting Artemis''s gaze. "It''s faint, but there are traces of ardor in these stones."

    Her eyes widened in disbelief. "No way!" She tried to confirm it herself, using the same method I had employed.

    "Incredible," she breathed, gazing up at the column with newfound awe.

    My gaze drifted to the crown of the column, where I noticed something peculiar.

    Summoning a blood tentacle, I carefully brushed away the accumulated snow, revealing a symbol carved into the white marble itself.

    Both of us stared at it in utter shock.

    "What in the name of the Incarni..." I breathed, my eyes widened at what I uncovered.

    A four-pointed star with light rays radiating from it, surrounded by a ring of flames.

    The intricately carved symbol stood out starkly against the column''s top.

    The symbol''s presence baffled us.

    What was it doing here, of all places?

    Artemis voiced the thoughts swirling in our minds.

    "What is the symbol of the Order of Lux doing here?"

 63 Im Not The Main Character

    "Things are getting quite interesting," I remarked, staring at the symbol carved into the marble with an amused smile.

    What is the symbol of an organization based in Edith doing on a lonely mountain in Aria?

    "Is the Order active in the Kingdom?" I asked.

    Artemis nodded. "Indeed. It has several branches in the major cities, but I''ve never heard of an ancient branch in Les Anciennes, and certainly not one with a garden as huge as this."

    "This must be something else," she said, her golden eyes narrowing in contemplation.

    Suddenly, we heard Iris calling out to us. "Hey, guys! Come over here!"

    "Did she get lost again?" I muttered, following Artemis toward the voice.

    Carefully navigating through the crumbling ruins, we soon reached Iris''s location.

    The rest of the group was already gathered there, and we were the last to arrive. I could see why she was excited.

    At the far end of the main path stood a beautiful stone entrance with huge double doors built into the mountain.

    The arched entrance, crafted from the same resilient white marble as the surrounding columns, appeared immune to the mountain''s harsh elements. It stood with an ageless grace as if freshly sculpted just a day prior.

    Intricate carvings and runes adorned its surface, each detail etched with remarkable clarity.

    At the apex of the arch, a prominent symbol caught our attention��a four-pointed star encircled by flames, the symbol of the Order of Lux.

    Below the symbol was a line of characters that looked foreign and enigmatic.

    "What the heck?" Apollo squinted at the characters, looking stumped. "What do they mean?"

    "It''s Luminian. An ancient lost language used by the Order before the disappearance of the Lux Incarnus," Iris explained matter-of-factly.

    She looked around. "What?"

    Everyone except me stared at her incredulously, disbelief evident in their expressions.

    "You know ancient languages?" Ava''s voice held a hint of skepticism.

    Iris bristled slightly. "What kind of question is that? Of course, I know ancient languages! I''ve studied them as a pastime."

    "A pastime?" Carlo echoed, clearly impressed.

    I chuckled. "Guys, Iris may be crazy, but she''s undeniably a brilliant genius."

    "I am!" Iris affirmed proudly, gesturing toward the intricate script adorning the arch. "This is Luminian, and it reads ''Sanctuary of Light.''"

    Artemis gasped in astonishment. "A Sanctuary?!"

    Iris beamed at the young Fray. "Yep. Looks like you know what it is."

    "Indeed," Artemis confirmed with zeal, her excitement palpable. I''ve never seen this girl so excited.

    Her enthusiasm was contagious.

    "Artemis, can you tell us what a Sanctuary is?" I inquired, turning to her.

    Having read numerous books in Necropolis''s library over the past three years, I already knew what a Sanctuary of Light was.

    Although I haven''t found any of the ancient language books Iris used.

    Truly a bummer indeed.

    But I encouraged Artemis to speak because her childlike excitement amused me, and Apollo looked particularly confused.

    Artemis glanced at Iris, who offered her an encouraging smile. "I would like to hear what you have to say," Iris encouraged.

    With a sparkle in her eyes, Artemis cleared her throat. "To put it simply, a Sanctuary of Light is a mausoleum that also serves as a safe house or a place of rest."

    "A mausoleum?" Ava questioned, her brow furrowed in confusion. "You mean a tomb? And it''s also a safe house?"

    Artemis nodded. "Yes, but it is no ordinary tomb."

    Her eyes held a reverent gleam as they remained fixed on the symbol. "A Sanctuary is the final resting place of a Paladin."

    "A Paladin?!" Krystal exclaimed, her astonishment mirrored by the rest of the group.

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    I nodded, addressing their collective awe. "We all know who the Paladins are, right?"

    The Paladins.

    They are the strongest warriors of the Order of Lux, an ancient military organization that predated even the Kingdom itself.

    Despite their antiquity, the Paladins are one of the most formidable military forces in the world, their power and influence second only to the Knights of the Round.

    Comprised of the most powerful Lux warlocks, the Paladins are a force to be reckoned with. But the path to becoming a Paladin is arduous, even more difficult than becoming a Knight of the Round.

    First of all, one must possess the Lux strand to just become a candidate. So there aren''t many Paladins in the Order, but the ones there are absolute monsters.

    In fact, the current Grandmaster of the Paladins is an X ranker, one of the Three Crowns of this world, and the first Paladin to ever attain that rank.

    The Grandmaster is the same rank as my father, but they are the weakest X ranker as well.

    Yet, even the weakest X ranker holds unfathomable power, capable of single-handedly decimating a continent with their might.

    Just wonderful.

    Artemis continued. "A Paladin, especially one of high rank, is believed to retain residual ardor and Lux even after death. This energy can heal minor wounds and invigorate those nearby."

    "And so the Order constructed the Sanctuaries of Light," she explained. "As a final resting place for Paladins, where their legacy could be honored and their power still felt by those who come here for safety and rest."

    Ava narrowed her eyes in understanding. "So the ancient ardor we sense around us..."

    "Is likely the lingering energy of a Paladin," Artemis confirmed, her admiration evident. "To persist after so many centuries... This Paladin must have been truly remarkable."

    "Indeed!" Iris chimed in enthusiastically. "Shall we venture through the conspicuously conspicuous doorway that didn''t even try to be inconspicuous?"

    "Why phrase it like that?" I interjected with a frown.

    "To sound like a genius."

    "You sounded like a dumbass."

    "Oh..."

    Clearing her throat, Iris turned to the group. "I propose we enter and explore."

    However, not everyone shared her enthusiasm. "Are you certain about this, Captain?" Carlo voiced his concern.

    "Absolutely!" Iris insisted. "The Sanctuary has likely been undisturbed for centuries. The only inhabitant would be the Paladin''s remains. It''s not like the ghost is waiting to haunt us."

    "Why did you have to say that?" I couldn''t help but remark.

    "It''s not a jinx," Iris countered, though her reassurance fell short.

    "Well, I am quite curious. This is my first time seeing a sanctuary," Carlo said, glancing at Ava, who rolled her eyes in response.

    "Haven''t you heard that curiosity kills the bloody cat?" she retorted.

    "C''mon, Ava! Where''s your sense of adventure?" Krystal chimed in.

    "Apparently, I am the only one with sense here," Ava muttered, then turned to Artemis. "At least you''re not on board with this, right?"

    Artemis shifted uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact with Ava. "I don''t know, Ava. I really want to know what''s beyond this gateway."

    Ava sighed. "I guess I am fighting a losing battle here."

    Apollo grinned. "If my sister makes up her mind, it''s almost impossible to change it."

    I looked at the uneasy-looking Ava Baskerville. "Why are you so apprehensive about entering?" I asked curiously.

    She met my gaze, her grey eyes betraying her nerves. "I sense danger from behind the door."

    I narrowed my eyes.

    This is indeed worrying.

    The Baskervilles are known for their keen sense of danger, like dogs. If Ava Baskerville, a child of the Baskerville Family Head, felt uneasy, there was cause for concern.

    But the most scary thing is that we don''t know what it is. I resolved myself. Now I am sure we need to know what is beyond those doors.

    It seemed like Iris was also having the same thought as me. We exchanged looks and nodded.

    "Well then!" Iris declared brightly. "Let''s enter the unknown."

    "But before that," she added, tapping her bracelet, "let''s call for reinforcements. We need people to transport the ardimal carcasses at the base of the mountain and to secure this area."

    She nodded a few times and looked at us. "I have requested Minerva for backup. They will be here in a few hours. In the meantime, we can explore the Sanctuary, but we must be careful."

    She grinned. "And even if we find ourselves in a pinch, we''ll figure it out," she said with confidence, gesturing to herself and me. "After all, we have two ultimate Deathwalkers here."

    "Oh?" Ava raised an eyebrow. "I wonder where they are?"

    Iris shot her a playful glare. "You have quite the humor, Ava Baskerville. You should try stand-up comedy."

    "Anyway, here we go!" Iris exclaimed, turning to the imposing entrance.

    Placing her palm on the smooth white doors, she activated the ancient runes with her ardor control, and with a hiss, the massive stone doors swung open slowly.

    A strong, frigid, and musty wind rushed out of the opening as if the very mountain was exhaling after a very long time.

    "Creepy," Carlo remarked as we gazed into the darkness beyond the open doors that seemingly stretched almost forever.

    "Doesn''t this feel like one of those clich��s where everyone but the protagonist dies?" Ava grumbled nervously. "I hope it''s not that because I am not the main character," she added in a concerned voice.

    Her words made me worry a bit. I really hope this will not be what she said.

    Iris took a deep breath and entered the entrance. It looked like she was searching for something on the side.

    "Ah! Found it." Her eyes lit up and she focused.

    Suddenly, the tunnel before us burst into light as luminous stones embedded in the walls illuminated the winding passage.

    From what I observed, the tunnel is wide enough for three people to walk abreast comfortably and even leave enough space.

    Thank the Incarni it is not those cramped tunnels. I don''t have claustrophobia, but dark cramped spaces can be quite spooky.

    Iris glanced back at us, her signature crazy grin lighting up her face.

    "Let''s hope we don''t die."

 64 I Know The Bloke!

    "At least I won''t go off the wrong way."

    Iris chuckled as she followed close behind me as we traversed the straight tunnel carved into the mountain.

    The glow of numerous luminous stones embedded in the rocky walls guided our way like celestial beacons, leading us deeper into what felt like a sacred passage toward the Sanctuary of Light.

    Above us, the cavernous ceiling soared to considerable heights, adorned with larger luminous crystals reminiscent of stars scattered across the expanse of a midnight sky.

    I snorted, "Yeah. I half expect you to start walking upside down on the ceiling and lead us in the opposite direction."

    "Ha, very funny."

    "Why does that sound like something the Captain would do?" Carlo interjected with a grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

    Iris glanced back at Carlo, her expression mischievous yet affectionate. "Oh, Carlo. When we return, I will give you a training session from hell."

    Her threat elicited a shiver from the young Devereux, and the others laughed.

    Something caught my eye, and a relieved smile appeared on my face.

    "I see an exit!" I announced, pointing ahead to where the tunnel opened into a vast, unknown space before us.

    After a few minutes of walking, we got out of the tunnel and spread out.

    "Whoa!" all of us gasped as we found ourselves in a vast cavern that seemed to be carved into the heart of the mountain.

    Huge luminous crystals dotted the vast chamber, their brilliant glow casting mesmerizing patterns of light across the cavern walls.

    Among them, a truly colossal crystal jutted out from the high rocky ceiling like a radiant sun, bathing the cavern below in its warm, ethereal glow.

    Cyan-colored grass covered the cavern floor, faintly glowing with ardor. Just like the grass, there were several arlants or ardor plants scattered all over the cavern.

    Strange glowing flowers with petals of a variety of shapes, vines that moved faintly as if alive, and trees that seemed to be made of silver with glowing golden leaves.

    But the most jaw-dropping thing in the cavern was the colossal tree of purest white.

    Its top almost touched the massive crystal in the roof, and its huge branches spread out extensively with leaves made of light.

    The sheer magnitude of the tree was staggering; its trunk was so wide that ten people could encircle it while holding hands.

    Right at the base of the massive tree, rising to about half of its imposing height, a grand building made of white stone stood, its pristine facade gleaming in the radiant light of the cavern.

    Despite the passage of countless years, the structure remained untouched by time, its immaculate white stones almost glowing with an ethereal brilliance that spoke of a timeless presence.

    Two massive doors separated the insides of the marvelous building and the environment of the cavern, their gleaming surfaces adorned with gold and silver designs between the engraved runes that glowed bright blue.

    The entire structure was a masterpiece of craftsmanship, covered in meticulously carved runes that formed breathtaking designs on the pristine white stones.

    Two massive statues of fully armored warriors stood guard, each holding a massive longsword and a shield like sentinels silently protecting whatever lay beyond those doors.

    Ava voiced the concern that lingered in all our minds, "Those statues won''t come alive and attack us, right?"

    I glanced up at the towering statues, their imposing presence casting a shadow over us. "I hope not. But with our luck, I''m afraid that would be the case."

    "Take out your weapons," Iris instructed, taking out her black and purple daggers, their jagged edges glinting menacingly. "We have no idea what would happen here. Best be prepared."

    I and the rookies nodded, taking out our weapons.

    I gripped my white daggers, holding them so the tip of one blade touched the handle of the other.

    I streamed ardor into the daggers, and they began to morph. The blade of the bottom dagger and the handle of the other broke down into tiny white cubes that joined together.

    The blade elongated, and the handle adjusted to my palm. With a hiss like a snake, the daggers transformed into my single-edged sword, its green edge almost glowing.

    I heard a whistle behind me and noticed Carlo eyeing my sword. He looked at me, "Morphium?"

    I nodded, "Very handy."

    Ava clicked her claws as she donned them. Krystal''s rapier swooshed in the air as she made some practice swings with it.

    Chains clinked as Apollo wrapped them around his forearm and gripped his blades, and Artemis twirled her Yoyo.

    Now, properly armed and ready, we moved forward toward the entrance.

    Passing by the statues, I braced myself for any sudden movement, but they remained still, mere stone guardians in the dim light of the cavern.

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    But I did not relax my guard. Anything can happen in a place like this.

    Iris stood before the massive entrance. She glanced back at me, and I gave her an encouraging nod.

    With a smile, she nodded back and pushed the doors.

    The massive doors of stone glided open to reveal a huge circular chamber.

    From what I could observe, I saw that the chamber is divided into two areas.

    Pillars surrounded the inner area, likely where the Paladin was laid, while the outer area appeared to be a common resting place, adorned with tables and chairs crafted from the silver wood of the arlant trees.

    Though simpler in design compared to the exterior, the interior of the sanctuary exuded an undeniable aura of ancient power and majesty.

    Engraved runes adorned the walls, their faint glow adding to the ambiance of the chamber.

    But we were all awestruck by the beauty of the place.

    "This is amazing," Artemis said, her golden eyes gazing at every inch of the interior, her face looking like an awestruck child seeing the Royal Palace for the first time.

    As we all looked around the chamber in awe and wonderment, my gaze shifted to the pillars that separated the two areas.

    It wasn''t just the beauty of the place that overwhelmed us but also the powerful and ancient ardor that surrounded us.

    And it is coming from beyond those pillars.

    Gripping my sword, I walked toward the pillars. As I approached, I noticed an open doorway at the end of the chamber beside the furthest pillar.

    Looks like it leads to somewhere deeper into the sanctuary.

    The hairs on my neck stood up as I reached the pillars and walked between two of them.

    "By the Incarni," I breathed out in awe as I stared at the huge sarcophagus that stretched out before me.

    Completely made of pure white marble and unadorned with any designs or engravings, the box-like sarcophagus emitted a formidable aura despite its beautiful simplicity.

    Seven words were engraved into the marble in the middle, and they glowed with ardor.

    Isaac Zierhart.

    Faithful Servant Of Our Goddess.

    A frown etched my face as I read the name engraved.

    Isaac Zierhart. Why does that name sound familiar?

    A gasp behind me almost made me jump.

    It was Artemis, her golden eyes wide with shock as she stared at the name.

    "No way," she gingerly stretched out her hand and passed her finger over the engraving.

    Looking at me with reverence and shock, she said, "This is the final resting place of Isaac Zierhart, the man who discovered the Tear."

    My eyes widened as the answer clicked into place.

    I know him! He is the bloke who first encountered the Tear during his travels in Les Anciennes about five thousand years ago.

    The rest joined us and looked at the sarcophagus with both amazement and reverence.

    "I didn''t know the first Deathwalker was a Paladin of the Order of Lux," Apollo remarked.

    "Actually, he is not a Deathwalker," Iris corrected him. "The daemons only started appearing about a thousand years ago. So Isaac never encountered them. He only encountered the Tear."

    Her eyebrows furrowed as she recounted what she had learned, "According to ancient records, Isaac was both fascinated and disturbed by the Tear."

    "And so he let the Order and the world know of the existence of the Tear," Artemis interjected, then looked guiltily at Iris.

    "Sorry. I was too excited," Artemis blurted out.

    Iris smiled. "It''s fine. How about you continue?"

    Beaming, Artemis nodded and continued. "With support from the Order, he established a fortress before the Tear to observe and study it. That fortress is the predecessor to the Shield."

    Carlo''s eyebrows shot up in surprise. "So the Shield is five thousand years old?"

    Artemis nodded. "More or less. It underwent a lot of renovation and reconstruction."

    "And the man who made it all possible was him." She turned to the sarcophagus. "Isaac Zierhart."

    Iris and I nodded. Everything she told us was the truth. I was even able to learn something new as well.

    "Fun fact," I chimed in. "Isaac realized that even though the Tear remained benign during his lifetime, he felt something malevolent beyond its swirling darkness. So, he established a strike force of powerful lower-ranked paladins to respond to any danger that may emerge from the Tear. This strike force is believed to be the predecessor of Deathwalkers."

    Apollo whistled. "Now that''s awesome."

    "It''s going to become more awesome," Iris said, pointing ahead of the sarcophagus.

    A small distance away from the sarcophagus was a small altar on which lay a book bound in pure white leather.

    Artemis gasped. "Is that what I think it is?"

    Iris nodded with a grin. "Looks like the journal of Isaac."

    I approached the altar and gingerly touched the book.

    "You sure about this?" Ava asked nervously, looking around for any hidden booby traps.

    "I think so," I said and picked up the book, immediately jumping away from the altar.

    "That was nerve-wracking." I sighed in relief and looked at the journal.

    Despite sitting on the altar for most probably five thousand years, the journal seemed in perfect condition.

    I delicately removed the string tied around the book as the others crowded around me. The front cover was unadorned and simple.

    I opened the ancient book and read the first words. "To Alexander, my dear brother lost in the Abyss beyond the cruel Tear."

    We felt like a bombshell had been dropped on us.

    "Alexander?" Iris asked, her deep blue eyes wide with disbelief. "You mean Alexander Zierhart?"

    I was shocked as well. "Isaac''s lost brother."

    Krystal frowned. "Who?"

    "Alexander Zierhart," Artemis explained. "The younger brother of Isaac and a powerful Paladin. It was said that he disappeared in Les Anciennes."

    Her puzzled and shocked eyes went to the journal. "But according to this, it appears that he didn''t just disappear into thin air."

    "He entered the Tear," Carlo said, looking very much shocked by this revelation.

    "How? And why?" I asked, unable to comprehend what was happening right now.

    Just as we were reeling from this revelation, the building suddenly began to rumble, causing us to stumble around in the inner chamber.

    I felt a sudden and terrifying surge in ardor and glanced back at the sarcophagus.

    My eyes widened in horror at the cracks forming on the smooth marble. They were spreading fast, with a bright light shooting out of them.

    Ah, fuck

    I yelled out.

    "SCATTER!"

 65 Which Dumbass Opened My Journal?

    "SCATTER!"

    In an instant, all of us jumped away from the inner area.

    With a deafening roar, the marble sarcophagus erupted in a blinding flash, showering us in splinters of stone and a wave of scorching heat.

    The ground shook violently, and the air filled with the acrid smell of burning stone.

    Chunks of broken stone and marble flew through the air as the pillars crumbled under the force of the powerful blast, shaking the entire sanctuary to its core.

    I glanced upward just in time to see a massive chunk of debris hurtling toward my face.

    Reacting swiftly, I raised my sword and brought it down with precision, the blade slicing effortlessly through the rock, splitting it cleanly in two.

    The two halves soared past me, creating a rush of wind that tousled my hair.

    "Is everyone alright?" Iris''s voice cut through the ringing in my ears.

    "Apart from nearly being blown to bits? Yeah, we''re peachy," Ava grumbled, brushing off tiny pieces of debris from her uniform.

    A cloud of dust billowed from the inner area, obscuring our vision, but I could discern the outline of a tall figure moving amidst the haze.

    I turned to Iris, a wry grin forming on my lips. "Looks like your jinx came through."

    Her eyebrows shot up in mock indignation. "Oh, now it''s my fault?"

    "Focus, everyone!" Carlo''s urgent voice broke through the chaos, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of metal boots clanging against stone.

    A potent aura descended upon us, overwhelming and oppressive, forcing everyone to their knees, including Iris and me.

    The air seemed to thicken with each step of the approaching figure, and the ancient runes on the walls flared brightly, straining to contain the immense power unleashed within.

    Gritting my teeth, I summoned every ounce of my own aura, struggling against the invisible force to rise to my feet.

    Iris and Carlo followed suit, their efforts palpable as they pushed against the weight bearing down on us.

    The sound of metal boots echoed ominously on the stone floor as the imposing silhouette drew nearer.

    Amidst the haze of white smoke and the remnants of shattered pillars, I discerned two fierce points of blue light emanating from the figure.

    With each step, the aura radiating from our approaching adversary intensified, sending shivers down my spine.

    As the figure emerged from the inner area, the overwhelming pressure abated, and the smoke dispersed, revealing the identity of our foe.

    I used my Omni contacts to scan the being before us only to swear loudly.

    "We are screwed."

    <Warning!>

    <Rank: Intermediate S>

    "Oh. We are absolutely fucked," Iris said, her daggers at the ready as tendrils of darkness rose around her.

    Standing tall before us was a knight adorned in pristine white armor, intricately detailed with accents of silver and gold.

    The four-pointed star symbol of the Order of Lux glowed brightly on the breastplate, while wisps of glowing white smoke emanated from the crevices between the metal plates.

    A tattered cape trailed behind the figure, and atop the jagged helmet sat a long plume, adding to its imposing presence.

    Through the narrow slits of the helm, two intense blue eyes regarded us, their glowing gaze shifting from one member of our group to the next with calculated precision.

    Finally, the knight''s piercing gaze settled on me, and a momentary paralysis gripped me, anchoring me in place.

    With deliberate movements, the knight flexed their clawed gauntlets before pointing directly at us.

    "Who is it?"

    A deep male voice muffled by the helm resonated around us.

    "Which dumbass opened my journal? The one intended for my brother?"

    Not the words I expected to hear from an ancient knight.

    I mean, "dumbass"? Was that even a term five thousand years ago?

    Immediately, all hands pointed at me in unison.

    "Oh, come on!" I exclaimed.

    Whatever happened to camaraderie and loyalty among Deathwalkers?

    The knight''s intense gaze bore into me once more as they extended a clawed finger, sending a chilling wave of ardor washing over me.

    "Boy with eyes of blood. Do you presume yourself worthy to peruse that tome? Do you dare place yourself on equal footing with my brother to unlock its secrets?" he asked, his deep voice echoing all around.

    My eye twitched and I clenched my jaw.

    Am I worthy to delve into a dusty old journal?

    What in the name of the Incarni is this ancient Tin man blathering about?

    Unworthy?

    Preposterous!

    I, who once held the mantle of a king, am questioned about my worthiness.

    "Of course I am worthy," I declared, meeting the knight''s gaze with steely resolve.

    Reluctantly, I decided to reveal my true identity, though I despised resorting to such measures.

    "I am Mordred Pendragon, the second High Prince of the Kingdom." I leveled my sword at him, my voice unwavering.

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    "Still think I am unworthy?"

    Iris nudged me slightly, "Um, Mordred. I don��t think he knows about the Pendragons. They didn��t exist five thousand years ago."

    The knight''s glowing eyes flared with recognition. "Pendragon? So you are his blood. I can see the resemblance," he said.

    "And there goes my knowledge of ancient history down the drain," Iris sighed.

    Artemis looked bewildered, her brow furrowing deeply. "The Pendragons existed five thousand years ago? That��s something we never learned," she murmured, her mind racing to reconcile this new information with her training.

    "Let''s worry about that later," I said, turning my attention back to the knight, "Does that answer your question?"

    "It seems so," the knight nodded solemnly, "But I cannot forgive you for taking the journal." He held out his hand, and a huge longsword flew out of the inner chamber into his outstretched hand.

    "Defeat me, and you will be forgiven."

    "A terrible proposition," I said, looking at Iris and nodding, "I guess this is our cue to leave."

    A resounding thud echoed through the chamber as the colossal entrance doors slammed shut.

    "Nobody leaves."

    Iris surveyed the sealed doors before turning back to our group with a resigned expression, "Looks like we''re in for it now."

    With determination in her eyes, she addressed the knight, "Very well. We accept your challenge."

    The knight cocked his head, addressing Iris directly. "Child of the Darkness, do you truly believe that your combined strength can overcome mine?"

    "Nope," Iris answered, "We don''t have an S-ranked with us. So defeating you is out of the question. We just have three A-ranks and four B-ranks."

    "What we have," her lips curled into a sinister smile, "is an ace in the hole to kill you."

    "Kill me?" the knight sounded amused.

    Iris confidently nodded and gave me a knowing look.

    I widened my eyes and asked, "Are you sure about that?"

    "A hundred percent," was her answer.

    I was afraid of that. I sighed inwardly. When Iris set her mind to something, there was little I could do to dissuade her.

    "Just be careful," I cautioned and readied my sword.

    She chuckled, "Of course."

    "Listen up, guys!" her voice boomed.

    "We''re facing an S-ranked being! Me, Mordred, and Carlo will engage in direct combat. The rest of you, provide us with all the support you can!"

    Ava voiced her concern, flexing her claws nervously, "Will you protect us? The power gap between us and that knight is significant."

    "We will," I promised her and looked at Carlo. "Will you help us?"

    Carlo looked nervous but his abyssal black eyes burned resolutely, "Could we even kill him? He''s an S rank."

    "Iris can, and she will," I affirmed, glancing at Iris, who exuded confidence.

    "Just trust in me!" she declared.

    "That''s what I am worried about," Carlo sighed and activated his strand. Red lightning enveloped him and he pointed his claymore at the knight. "Let''s do this."

    "Very good!" the knight lifted his longsword and pointed at us, "I am the spirit of Isaac Zierhart, a High Ranked Paladin and servant of the Incarnus of Lux!"

    "Oh! I thought you were my long-lost Uncle Bob from five thousand years ago," I quipped and activated Haema.

    Blood swirled around me and then around my blade.

    "By the way. How are we understanding each other?" Iris asked as darkness seeped out of her body and swirled around her.

    "Ardor is the medium through which I speak to you," with that cryptic answer, Isaac leaned forward and disappeared.

    Shit! He''s quick.

    Instantly, I activated my Triquetra state.

    Blood surged through my veins, and ardor heightened my senses until time seemed to slow around me, each heartbeat echoing like a drum in my ears.

    Except for Isaac.

    Sparks flew and blood spattered as my blood-coated sword intercepted a strike aimed at Artemis''s neck.

    The clash sent a shockwave rippling through the chamber, propelling both Artemis and me backward.

    I quickly extended my blood tentacles to grab hold of the young Fray and prevent us from colliding with the chamber wall.

    "You alright?" I asked Artemis who snapped out of her shock.

    She nodded fiercely, "Thank you."

    "Mordred! Behind you!" Iris''s urgent warning reached my ears.

    Whirling around, I spotted Isaac swinging his sword toward my head.

    "Not so fast!" Krystal''s voice echoed across the chamber as the temperature dropped.

    Two enormous ice spikes materialized above Isaac, hurtling downward toward him.

    With reflexes faster than lightning, Isaac redirected his strike, cleaving through the ice spikes with a single swing and sending icy shrapnel flying in all directions.

    Seizing the opportunity, I turned to Apollo.

    "Apollo! Catch!"

    Raising my blood tentacle holding Artemis, I tossed her toward her brother.

    "Hey!" Artemis exclaimed as she soared through the air.

    I couldn''t see if Apollo caught her, as Isaac redirected his attention to me, launching a powerful downward slash.

    Gritting my teeth, I raised my sword to intercept the blow, using all my strength to slide the blade of the longsword against mine and avoid being overwhelmed by its force.

    The impact of the strike shattered the floor beside me, throwing me off balance momentarily. Isaac wasted no time, thrusting his sword toward me.

    Reacting instinctively, I deflected the attack with my blood tentacles.

    But the power of the Paladin was immense. My tentacles exploded upon contact with the sword, forcing me to duck to the side as the blade embedded itself in the stone wall.

    I am an intermediate A rank and in my transcendent state, but I barely avoid his attacks.

    And worst of all, I am cornered.

    Isaac shifted his grip on the sword, dragging it through the stone wall, slicing it like cheesecake as he swung toward me.

    I braced myself, blocking the strike with my sword as Isaac pulled the blade free from the wall, aiming to cleave me in half.

    Bones cracked and I gritted my teeth as the sword pushed me along its swing arc, my boots sliding on the smooth floor.

    Good news. I am out of the dangerous spot.

    Bad news. Isaac wasn''t done.

    The paladin spun his sword around and executed a downward strike. I looked at the blade ready to turn me into a split banana.

    I won''t be able to avoid it.

    Suddenly, a surge of energy filled the air, and a crackling sensation enveloped us.

    A powerful bolt of red lightning struck Isaac directly in the head, sending a shower of sparks cascading around him and engulfing his form in a thick, acrid cloud of smoke.

    The crackling of electricity echoed through the chamber, punctuated by the hiss of vaporizing metal.

    "Mordred!" I heard Iris''s voice and saw her extending her hand toward me. One of my tentacles shot forward and grabbed her hand, pulling me toward her.

    "Old Tinhead is bloody insane with the sword!" I exclaimed.

    "I noticed!" Iris replied with a nod. "We need to hit him with the big guns!"

    I nodded in agreement.

    As Carlo joined us, the three of us raised our hands.

    Black runes surrounded Iris''s arm, electric blue runes encircled Carlo''s, and crimson runes enveloped mine as we activated our codes.

    {Tenebris: Death Rods}

    {Fulgur: Ultra Bolts}

    {Haema: Vortex Bloodlances}

    A powerful surge of ardor radiated from us as solid rods of darkness, spinning blood lances, and crackling bolts of red lightning materialized in the air around us.

    The combined power of our codes reverberated through the chamber, shaking the very foundations of the sanctuary.

    Isaac looked on at the projectiles aimed at him and a ghostly chuckle escaped from his helmet.

    "This will be interesting."

    With a collective yell, we unleashed our attack.

 66 Impressive

    The explosion rocked the sanctuary, hurling white stones into the cavern beyond.

    Dust and smoke swirled around us, black and crimson tendrils weaving through the air as we scanned for any sign of our foe.

    "Did we get him?" Carlo squinted through the haze, tension evident in his voice.

    "Nope." Iris shook her head, crossing her daggers as smoky darkness swirled around her and her eyes glowed blue.

    A slight movement in the smoke caught my eyes, and my instincts screamed at me.

    "CARLO! BLOCK!" I shouted, watching the huge longsword hurtle toward him, its speed breaking the sound barrier.

    His abyssal black eyes widened, and he raised his claymore just in time to block at the last second.

    That was a terrible idea.

    The sheer power sent him hurtling into the inner area, crashing into the pillars.

    But we didn''t have time to worry about him.

    Transcendence saved my life.

    Isaac Zierhart materialized before me, his powerful haymaker aimed at my head.

    I tilted my body to the side, and the ardor-laden punch missed my head by a hair''s breadth.

    A powerful shockwave shattered the ground beneath us, and I seized the opportunity to dart beneath his exposed side.

    I went for a counterattack from behind.

    Iris appeared beside the paladin, her daggers coated in black flames.

    Blood swirled and darkness roared as we attacked Isaac on two sides.

    Isaac shifted his weight, narrowly evading Iris''s strike as she sailed overhead. In a swift motion, he lashed out with a backward kick aimed squarely at me.

    With little time to react, I raised my sword to block, channeling my blood to reinforce the defense.

    The impact reverberated through my body as his armored boot struck the flat of my blade, hurling me toward the sanctuary doors like a human cannonball.

    Ah, shit.

    Instantly, my blood tentacles reacted and cushioned the impact as I slammed into the unforgiving stone.

    Bones cracked, pain exploding throughout my body.

    Incarni! That bloody hurts!

    As I collapsed to the ground, Apollo caught me, his expression a mix of concern and determination.

    "By the Incarni!" he exclaimed. "What was that? One second you were ready to give him the hurt, and the next second you are pasted to the doors!"

    "Thanks for the motivation." I coughed out, trying to recover the breath that got knocked out of me.

    Grimacing, I pushed through the pain, my strand already working to heal my injuries. My arms throbbed, my body aching from the brutal assault.

    That was just insane.

    What a monster.

    I observed the current situation.

    Good news: Isaac isn''t focused on me or the rookies anymore.

    Bad news: he''s trying to kill Iris.

    Iris moved with lightning speed, her daggers flashing as she attacked Isaac.

    Her Tenebris strand swirled around her, adding power to her strikes aimed at the paladin''s weak points.

    Isaac skillfully countered her moves, wielding his daggers with precision. His blades, gleaming with white light, emitted smoke that matched the aura of his armor.

    Their relentless clashes generated shockwaves that shook the chamber and rained down debris from above.

    I was just blown away by his skills, each calculated and dealt with a finesse that matched his position as a paladin.

    But the most amazing one is Iris.

    She is holding out against an S-ranked being who could decimate her in a matter of minutes by herself, disappearing into shadows and reappearing instantly in the blind spot of the paladin.

    Like me, she formed jagged tentacles with her strand, both protecting and attacking as she fought Isaac with the same graceful ferocity as fighting a daemon.

    But she won''t last for long. Even from here, I can hear her heavy breathing as exhaustion and damage accumulated on her body.

    I gripped my sword and readied myself.

    I used my special breathing technique to enhance Transcendence. I increased blood acceleration, and ardor flowed over my body.

    The world slowed down to an almost standstill, and I can now see the paladin''s attacks.

    In our brief clash, I glimpsed his swordsmanship��a marvel of precision and power.

    But mine, despite being from an archaic world, is better.

    I exhaled, and blood swirled around my sword, making it deadlier along with the coating of ardor on the white blade.

    I summoned eight blood tentacles, their crystallized tips quivering as they unfurled behind me.

    I relaxed my sword arm and leaned forward.

    "Here I go."

    Releasing a burst of ardor, I shot forward like a bullet toward Isaac.

    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    With a flick of my wrist, I slashed upward, targeting the paladin''s left shoulder.

    In a swift response, Isaac knocked Iris aside with his dagger and swiftly moved to block my attack.

    Our blades clashed with a shower of sparks, sending shockwaves rippling through the air.

    "Glad to see you back, young Pendragon." Isaac greeted me before pushing me away with his formidable strength.

    I staggered back and quickly regained my footing.

    "Likewise." I responded.

    My tentacles surged forward, attacking him from all sides.

    Isaac quickly slashed them into crimson mist, his daggers a glowing blur.

    Seizing the moment, I focused my control over my blood, gathering it at the green edge of my blade.

    With a surge of ardor and Haema, I executed a horizontal slash, propelling a crescent blade of ardor covered in blood toward the paladin.

    Isaac extended his hand behind him, and his longsword flew into his grasp.

    With lightning reflexes, he intercepted my attack, blocking it with the flat of his sword.

    The paladin wasted no time.

    Lunging forward, he unleashed a furious onslaught upon me.

    A storm of swords surged forth, each strike calculated, precise, and brimming with power.

    I calmed my mind and met his attacks head-on, my sword moving with fluid grace as I deflected and parried his blows.

    Every clash sent a shockwave rippling through the sanctuary, each burst of ardor crackling in the air and adding to the intensity of our battle.

    And boy do they hurt!

    My entire body screamed in pain every time my sword clashed with his, each strike getting stronger than the one before.

    If I weren''t an A rank with a body enhanced with layers of ardor, I would be blown into bloody bits by one impact of our clash.

    Despite my best efforts, cuts marred my body as the sheer force of his strikes broke through my defenses, tearing through my tough Deathwalker uniform.

    In my heightened state of Transcendence, I could see Isaac''s sword paths shifting with each strike, making it increasingly difficult to predict them.

    But I can predict them.

    With each exchange, my reactions grew sharper and my parries more precise.

    The paladin, however, became even faster and fiercer, his sword paths shifting unpredictably.

    The next strike will be a horizontal slash at my abdomen.

    His swordpath shifted, and I barely blocked a vertical slash at my chest.

    The next one will be a thrust at my throat.

    Again, it changed, and his blade grazed my thigh as I quickly shifted my body and deflected it desperately.

    Shit!

    He was overwhelming me at every turn!

    As we darted across the chamber in this deadly dance of blades, fatigue ravaged my body, slowing me down.

    Blood flowed from numerous wounds, my bones ached from the force of the blows, and my muscles burned like fire.

    The relentless assault was taking its toll.

    I could feel my blood acceleration slowing, and a terrible headache threatened to shut down Transcendence.

    I gritted my teeth. It wouldn''t be long before my body gave up and I stumbled.

    And that would be my last act on Asteris.

    Suddenly, I felt a tingle and a black wisp appeared in the corner of my eye.

    Despite the furious onslaught bearing down on me and my many injuries, a smile escaped my lips.

    I''m not alone.

    Barely dodging a fatal strike to my face, I deflected a follow-up blow and shifted my stance.

    In the blink of an eye, a black dagger, its edges tinged with bright purple, materialized in a swirl of darkness and hurtled toward the paladin''s sword arm.

    The blade sliced through the metal between his fingers, shearing off the clawed tip of his little finger with a satisfying clang.

    Iris emerged from the shadows beside me, seamlessly integrating herself into our assault on Isaac.

    Having her by my side filled me with renewed vigor, infusing my attacks with newfound speed and intensity.

    A whirlwind of blood and darkness enveloped us as we unleashed a relentless barrage of strikes against the paladin.

    Our movements synchronized effortlessly, Iris''s daggers seamlessly complementing the slashes of my sword.

    Whenever she launched a fierce assault, I instinctively stepped back, deploying my blood tentacles to shield her from counterattacks.

    And when I surged forward with a barrage of deadly sword strikes, Iris was there to provide cover, deflecting blows and creating openings for me.

    But despite two A-rankers going crazy on him, Isaac remained steadfast.

    If anything, he seemed to grow even more relentless, pressing his assault with renewed ferocity, as if he still had more in the tank.

    What a bloody monster!

    S-rankers are truly on a whole other insane level!

    Our barrage of ardor and strand-heavy attacks seemed to be taking its toll as Isaac abruptly halted his onslaught and took a step back.

    Iris and I both surged forward, runes encircling our outstretched arms.

    {Tenebris: Blackrose Snare}

    Iris conjured forth black thorny vines of darkness from her palm, swiftly ensnaring Isaac in their thorny embrace.

    Seizing the opportunity, I unleashed one of my favorite codes.

    {Haema: Blood Grenade}

    A powerful explosion of crimson engulfed Isaac as I hurled the grenade right into his face.

    "That stung," Isaac''s voice reverberated through the ruined sanctuary as he swept away the crimson smoke, holding the shredded remains of Iris''s vines that dissipated into nothing.

    He leaned forward to take a step toward us, only to freeze in place.

    Literally.

    "Huh?"

    His glowing eyes darted down to his armored boots, which were frozen solid and stuck to the ground.

    He attempted to shift his feet to shatter the ice, only to find himself unable to move. He couldn''t even move his sword.

    "HUH?"

    That''s when I noticed the thin black wire entangling his whole body, immobilizing him in place.

    A Yoyo string.

    "How''s that for support?" Artemis chimed in, standing beside me and casually twirling the head of her Yoyo on her fingers.

    "Having cold feet, Mr. Paladin?" Krystal added with a mischievous grin as she landed beside Iris.

    There was a clinking of chains as a chained blade wrapped around Isaac''s sword, and with a yank, tore it away from his grip.

    "I''ll take that," Apollo quipped from the other side of the chamber.

    "Good thing you forgot about us!" Ava''s voice rang out as she descended from above, her sharp claws enveloped in silver flames.

    "Lunar flames. A trait unique to strands of pure-blooded Baskervilles," Iris remarked between breaths.

    Ava slashed at the tattered cape of the paladin, immediately igniting it like a spirit-soaked cloth.

    Silver flames erupted all over Isaac''s body as the young Baskerville rolled on the ground and joined Apollo on the other side of the chamber.

    "Impressive," Isaac remarked, despite the silver flames licking greedily at his armor. He then turned his gaze toward us individually. "You children are truly amazing. But is this all?"

    "Not yet," a steely and determined voice spoke from the direction of the inner area.

    My eyes widened to see Carlo Devereux, looking quite bloodied and covered in dust, glaring at the paladin.

    He extended his arm, electric blue runes encircling it.

    The air in the sanctuary crackled, and what appeared to be thunderclouds formed above Isaac Zierhart''s head, crackling with red lightning and rumbling menacingly.

    With a calm smile, Carlo snapped his fingers.

    "Surprise, motherfucker."

 67 You Have A Nice Butt

    All eyes in the sanctuary turned toward Carlo.

    "Really?" Isaac''s voice carried a note of disappointment.

    "Quite unexpected from a member of the esteemed Devereux family," Ava remarked, her tone tinged with disappointment as she glanced at Carlo.

    The rest of us nodded in agreement, our expressions mirroring her sentiment.

    Carlo looked ashamed, his shoulders slumping and his eyes downcast. "Sorry. I lost my composure."

    He then unleashed his code.

    {Fulgur: Stormbreak}

    Above the paladin, the ominous thunderclouds crackled with energy, illuminating the chamber with their fierce red glow.

    In a sudden burst of crimson lightning, the sanctuary was engulfed in a powerful explosion that shattered the marble floor and sent shockwaves reverberating through the air.

    Amidst the chaos, a white dust cloud billowed from the devastating strike''s epicenter.

    "Now did that get him?" Krystal asked, peering through the dust cloud with her azurite eyes.

    Iris shook her head. "No. He��s an S-ranker. No way something like this would harm him."

    Just as she said those words, a terrifying wave of ardor swept over us.

    "FALL BACK!" Iris screamed as the glowing silhouette of Isaac rose from the dust.

    Suddenly, an explosion of white light enveloped us, sending powerful beams of light everywhere.

    I quickly leaped back as the light blinded me, shifting my body to the right and barely dodging a light beam that grazed my shoulder.

    Shit! That burns!

    I collapsed against a fallen column and averted my eyes, my vision still swimming with bright spots.

    Isaac Zierheart''s laughter echoed around us, a chilling sound that made the hairs on my neck stand up.

    "MARVELOUS! YOU YOUNG ONES ARE JUST MARVELOUS!" he bellowed, shaking the sanctuary with his voice.

    I heard cries of pain beside me and saw Artemis leaning against a fallen column, her face contorted in agony as she clutched the bleeding stump where her left arm had been severed.

    I rushed to her side, pulling out bandages with trembling hands, and quickly stopped the bleeding.

    She whimpered as I dressed the stump, her eyes glistening with tears.

    "You okay?" I asked, my voice strained with worry as I glanced at her severed arm lying a few feet away.

    "I''ll live," she gritted her teeth and tried to get up, only to grimace in pain.

    Her side was also struck and was bleeding heavily. I took out a recovery potion and made her drink it, watching as some color returned to her pale face.

    "How are we going to beat him?" she gasped as I wrapped bandages around her waist, tightening them until she yelped.

    "Iris can defeat him, but I am not a huge fan of her method," I replied, my voice grim.

    "Yep! That is good!" I said, trying to inject some confidence into my voice as I finished dressing her wound.

    The rubble a few feet away shifted, and Krystal rose from it, bloodied and battered but in better condition than Artemis.

    "How are you doing?" I asked, helping her steady herself.

    The girl with azurite eyes spat out a clump of blood and grinned at me. "Apart from a few broken bones and teeth, nothing too major is damaged. I''m good!"

    This girl is just bloody insane!

    Waves of terrifying ardor washed over us as the dust began to settle, and the glowing form of Isaac emerged, holding a sword of light in his hand.

    "I was expecting a second phase to this boss fight, but hot damn, he''s like a walking supernova," Iris materialized beside me and remarked, her tone a mix of awe and frustration.

    Unlike us, she was uninjured.

    "You look rather healthy," I remarked, trying to keep my tone light despite the dire situation.

    "Jumped in a shadow at the right time. Almost got my ass vaporized when the light show hit the shadow, though," she replied, rubbing her backside with a grimace.

    I couldn''t help but glance at it.

    "You have a nice butt," I complimented her rather attractive rear end.

    Iris shot me a sly grin. "Thanks! Of course, I have a nice butt."

    "Guys. Focus," Artemis interrupted, wincing in pain.

    "Right." I refocused, turning my attention to Isaac, who stood at the center of the sanctuary, his armor glowing brightly and his cape burning with the silver flames of the Baskervilles.

    His eyes, now burning brightly, stared at us as if waiting for our next move.

    "What about the others?" I asked, keeping my eyes on the paladin.

    Iris shook her head. "Ava lost a leg and Apollo lost an ear and got a hole pierced through his left lung."

    "What?!" Artemis sat straight up only to collapse back with a painful cry.

    "Calm down. He is fine. He used his strand to heal himself," Iris reassured her and turned to me.

    "Carlo was knocked unconscious. I smacked him awake. He is well enough for another round."

    "That''s good," I nodded. "We doing it your way?"

    She nodded back. "Yep."

    "I don''t like it," I sighed.

    Iris smiled, a reassuring light in her eyes. "I''ll be fine. I have you."

    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Her gaze shifted to Isaac. "He''s a spirit, right?"

    "That''s what he said," Krystal replied as she reached us.

    "Spirits are tethered to the realm of the living by something significant from their past life," Iris elaborated, her expression thoughtful.

    My eyes widened. "The door in the inner area! It may lead to whatever is binding Isaac to this world!"

    "Or it could be his armor or even his sword," Artemis suggested.

    Iris shook her head. "I doubt it. I nicked his armor back then and it didn''t even tickle him. It has to be something else."

    Her eyes hardened with determination. "If that fails, we still have my stigma."

    Artemis looked concerned. "Are you sure about that? I''ve heard about your stigma... it''s dangerous."

    The Fairy of Tenebris gave her a reassuring smile. "It''s our best shot. And I''m willing to take the risk."

    "Plus, it''s been a long time since I was on the brink of death," she added with a grin.

    "Bloody masochist," I chuckled, shaking my head as I regarded her.

    "Your orders?"

    Iris nodded. "I, Mordred, Krystal, and Carlo. The four of us will engage Isaac."

    "You and Apollo pick up Ava and look for the anchor," she directed Artemis, her gaze firm.

    The young Fray nodded resolutely and, with Krystal''s assistance, rose to her feet.

    "We''re going to need an opening to enter the doorway."

    "And you will have that," Iris assured her, extending her arm toward Artemis.

    With a glow in her blue eyes, black smoky tendrils extended from Iris''s fingers and enveloped Artemis.

    In an instant, her wounds began to heal, the bleeding from her stump and side ceased, and color returned to her face.

    Her golden eyes widened in surprise.

    "How?" she stammered.

    Iris grinned. "Tenebris can also heal along with mimicking the other strands."

    "Time for round two," I declared, rising and wiping the blood from my mouth as Haema sealed my wounds shut.

    I turned to Krystal. "You ready?"

    She grinned. "Hell yeah."

    "OI CARLO! YOU ALIVE AND READY?" I shouted across the room.

    "Yeah!" Carlo''s voice echoed back.

    Isaac''s burning eyes bore into me. "You all seem to be ready. Shall we dance?"

    I met the paladin''s gaze with a smile.

    "Yeah. Let''s dance."

    I, Iris, and Krystal stepped forward, releasing our auras, which reverberated through the sanctuary, colliding with Isaac''s formidable presence.

    Eight barbed tentacles of blood unfurled from my back, and blood swirled around my arms as I activated Haema.

    Beside me, Iris''s blue eyes gleamed as darkness coalesced around her, forming two fairy wings of pure darkness.

    The temperature dropped as icy spikes materialized above us, all aimed at Isaac.

    Krystal pointed her rapier at the paladin with an insane smile. "This is going to be fun!"

    Red lightning crackled as Carlo rose in the air behind Isaac, his entire body enveloped in red lightning and his eyes glowing with the power of Fulgur.

    "Lunatics!" Iris''s voice echoed. "Let''s go crazy!"

    With an excited yell, Krystal launched her ice spikes at Isaac.

    Simultaneously, Iris and I surged forward, our blades enveloped in our respective strands, poised for a lethal strike.

    I tapped into the most extreme form of my Triquetra state.

    Triquetra Overdrive.

    Time seemed to halt around me as my perception and senses reached an unprecedented level.

    My blood surged beneath my skin, threatening to burst my veins as my blood acceleration doubled. Layers of ardor enhancement enveloped my body, fortifying it.

    Isaac deflected the ice spikes with a swift slash of his sword and brought it down toward me as I closed in on him.

    Gripping my sword tightly, I met Isaac''s attack with precision, halting it in its tracks. Our clash erupted in a storm of sparks and a powerful shockwave of ardor.

    I gritted my teeth as the force of the paladin''s strike pushed me into the ground.

    He''s even stronger than before!

    Meanwhile, Iris descended from above, her massive wings casting a looming shadow over us.

    She extended her hand, black runes encircling it as multiple vortices of darkness swirled around her, coalescing into various weapons.

    Swords, spears, and daggers crafted from darkness pointed menacingly at the paladin below.

    With a clenched fist, Iris unleashed the arsenal of darkness upon Isaac in a deadly barrage.

    {Tenebris: Bladefall}

    Isaac swiftly adjusted his stance, his longsword sliding against mine with a shower of sparks.

    In one fluid motion, he repelled me and unleashed a devastating slash, releasing a blinding arc of light that vaporized everything in its path.

    Iris''s eyes widened as the arc vaporized her code and continued toward her. Reacting swiftly, she countered with a powerful arc of darkness.

    Light and Darkness collided in the air, releasing a powerful explosion as both strands annihilated each other.

    Thrown against the upper walls by the force of the explosion, Iris quickly regained her footing and wasted no time in recovery.

    We wasted no time either.

    As soon as the explosion blew up the ceiling of the sanctuary, a barrage of red lightning surged toward Isaac.

    The paladin tore off his burning cape and threw it at the oncoming lightning. The cape turned to ashes as the lightning hit it instead of him.

    I quickly closed in on him, my tentacles lashing out in a relentless assault.

    Spinning his sword, Isaac countered, the bright blade slicing through the air and intercepting my tentacles as they surged toward him.

    In a shifting blur of slashes, he shredded them, only for them to regenerate and renew their attack.

    I joined the fray, my white blade meeting his sword and making shockwaves with each clash.

    My bones shook and my balance threatened to collapse as I fought against the paladin, my tentacles and sword working together in perfect harmony.

    Yet, he was still holding them off with relative ease.

    The temperature dropped again as Krystal joined the fray with another delivery of massive ice lances.

    Her rapier flashed as she went for the paladin''s knees while simultaneously unleashing another volley of ice lances aimed at him.

    Isaac''s eyes flared as he unleashed a powerful burst of ardor, repelling us and shattering the lances into tiny shards of ice.

    He dispatched my tentacles, deflected my sword, and intercepted Krystal''s strike with precise efficiency. With the same upward fluid motion, he launched me toward the shattered ceiling, leaving me airborne and vulnerable.

    As soon as I was airborne, he crouched low and dealt a devastating knee strike to Krystal''s gut, sending her crashing into the walls of the sanctuary with blood spurting from her mouth.

    Reacting swiftly, I twisted in midair and unleashed a spiraling slash of blood toward the paladin.

    However, Isaac countered with a forceful punch that tore through the air, dispersing my attack.

    "Coming through!" Iris''s voice pierced through the chaos as she streaked past me like a comet of darkness aimed directly at our adversary.

    Isaac reacted swiftly, raising his sword to meet Iris''s black daggers shrouded in darkness.

    The clash between light and darkness sent shockwaves rippling through the air, shattering the floor as the force pushed the paladin''s boots into the ground.

    Still airborne, I channeled ardor into my legs, allowing me to land gracefully on the ceiling before launching myself downward toward the fray between Isaac and Iris.

    In a burst of crimson lightning, Carlo materialized beside me, his claymore enveloped in his strand, ready to join the assault.

    Meanwhile, from the shattered wall, Krystal emerged in a flurry of ice, her eyes and rapier glowing as massive spears of ice materialized around her.

    Blood swirled around my sword and runes encircled my arm as I used another code I had learned.

    {Haema: Shredding Gyroscopes}

    Orbs of blood the size of golf balls, surrounded by concentric circular rings of blood that rapidly spun like gyroscopes, formed around me.

    With our strands roaring in unison, we descended upon the paladin.

 68 My Goddess...

    Iris leaped away just in time as my shredding code crashed down toward Isaac.

    Sparks and blood flew as the rapidly rotating rings of the blood gyroscopes clashed against his radiant sword.

    Amidst the shredding orbs, I collided with Isaac, our swords emitting waves of fervor, driving the paladin further into the ground.

    Behind me, I heard the crackle of lightning and quickly retreated as Carlo''s claymore descended upon the luminous blade.

    Crimson lightning exploded from the collision, pulverizing everything in its path.

    Huge ice spikes hurtled toward the paladin as Krystal dashed forward, her rapier gleaming.

    Observing the intense clash between them, Iris materialized beside me from the shadows. Her eyes faintly glowed, and dark marks adorned her face.

    "You activated your stigma?" I raised my eyebrows.

    She nodded. "It''s going to be excruciatingly painful."

    "Yes, it will be." I stabbed her in the side. My sword pierced her uniform and plunged deep into her body.

    She cried out, clutching her side as blood gushed from the wound when I quickly withdrew my sword.

    "A little warning would be nice," she said through clenched teeth.

    I shrugged. "Hey. The closer you are to death, the quicker we finish this."

    Iris took deep breaths and straightened her body. "I''ll engage and stay with Isaac. Tell Carlo and Krystal to unleash attacks regardless."

    Turning to me, she added, "Do your best to put me on the brink of death as well."

    I smiled. "Of course, I will. I''ll accompany you. Someone has to watch your back."

    "But..."

    I placed a finger on her lips and reassured her, "Don''t worry, Iris. I''ll evade in time. I''ll be fine."

    Iris looked uncertain but nodded and smiled. "Let''s win this."

    Just then, amidst the chaos, my earpiece crackled to life with Artemis''s urgent voice.

    "Mordred! We''ve discovered a plethora of artifacts in the room! Any one of them could be the anchor!"

    My eyes lit up with anticipation. "Well? What are you waiting for? Burn them!"

    "All of them? They are extremely old and rare artifacts!" Artemis sounded devastated.

    I rolled my eyes impatiently. Really? Now?

    But I understood her apprehension. The artifacts held invaluable historical significance.

    Destroying them seemed reckless.

    Sighing, I turned to Iris and conveyed the situation.

    She frowned in contemplation. "Artemis has a point. Indiscriminately destroying them isn''t wise."

    Her eyes brightened with a sudden realization. "I have an idea. Release an ardor pulse strong enough to disrupt a warlock''s flow without harming the artifacts. No matter how strong he is, Isaac will react if the ardor flow of his anchor is disturbed."

    Swiftly relaying Iris''s plan to Artemis, relief flooded her voice.

    "That''s a brilliant plan. Wait, Apollo! Don''t burn them all!"

    Her voice cut off abruptly as Carlo crashed into the nearby wall, engulfed in a burst of red lightning.

    Turning our attention back to Isaac, we witnessed him holding Krystal aloft, his gauntleted hand tight around her neck.

    Krystal struggled against his grip, summoning a barrage of ice spikes that Isaac effortlessly dispelled with a flick of his radiant sword.

    "Is this all?" he asked, his eyes burning into me.

    He hurled Krystal toward me, and I caught her just before she collided with the floor.

    "Sorry," she winced and tried to lift her battered and bloodied body only to collapse in pain.

    I smiled. "It''s fine. We''ll take it from here. You and Carlo focus on healing and if you are ready, unleash your deadliest long-range codes. Make sure they hit Iris as well."

    Her azurite eyes widened in disbelief. "What?"

    "Just do it. Trust me," I insisted.

    She looked uncertain but nodded. "Okay."

    "Great," I said, carefully settling her against a fractured column before turning to Iris. "This is the final push."

    The Fairy of Tenebris nodded eagerly, her blue eyes shimmering with anticipation. "Indeed. Let''s go wild."

    Gripping my sword tightly, I leaned forward, activating my stigma.

    I had closely studied Isaac''s swordsmanship and absorbed invaluable insights.

    Now, I merely needed to wish for it.

    "I want his skills."

    A searing headache threatened to overwhelm me as knowledge flooded my mind, my body instinctively adopting Isaac''s techniques in seconds.

    I gasped for breath, the intensity was unlike any previous skill acquisition.

    S-rankers truly are on a whole new level!

    But now, his skills were mine.

    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    A grin spread across my lips. "Let''s finish this."

    Together, we shot forward, sending out powerful shockwaves of ardor as we reached Isaac in the blink of an eye.

    Iris''s obsidian daggers, shrouded in ethereal darkness, descended upon the paladin like the venomous fangs of a serpent from the abyss, while my sword, its emerald edge aglow and ensconced in the swirling mists of my blood, mirrored his thrust with unwavering precision.

    Isaac met our advance with formidable resistance, swiftly switching his sword to his left arm to intercept Iris''s onslaught while seizing the blade of my sword with his clawed gauntlets.

    But we were prepared.

    Iris melded into the shadows, reappearing beside him in an instant, while I deftly twisted my sword free from his grip, mirroring his movements down to the slightest detail.

    We struck out once more, and despite his disadvantaged position, Isaac retaliated with ferocity.

    His slashes drove me backward, and he aimed the hilt of his sword at Iris.

    Yet, instead of evading as she usually would, Iris braced herself for the impact, absorbing the blow with a gut-wrenching force that sent blood spewing from her lips and tore a ragged hole in her jacket.

    Propelled toward the shattered ceiling, she instinctively flipped midair, her fairy wings propelling her back into the fray.

    Seizing the opening, I launched myself at the paladin, engaging in a deadly dance of swords where our movements mirrored each other with uncanny precision.

    Isaac''s shock was palpable as he faced my flawless execution of his own techniques as if confronting a reflection of himself, adapting seamlessly to his every move.

    Thrust for thrust, slash for slash, we continued our intense exchange, each blow pushing him further back under the relentless onslaught of his own skills wielded against him.

    "Is this your Gift!? To copy the abilities of others?!" Isaac yelled at me as he found himself getting pushed back by my relentless assault with his skills.

    "Ding ding! You got it right!" I shouted in reply, amplifying the speed and ferocity of my attacks, unleashing my blood tentacles against him with renewed vigor.

    In a burst of darkness, Iris rejoined the fray.

    She danced gracefully amidst the chaos, her movements a blur of darkness and blades.

    Unlike me, who evaded and parried, she endured every blow.

    With a primal howl of pain and determination, she withstood the onslaught, her flesh torn, her bones broken, her blood vaporized.

    Witnessing her agony tore at my soul, every fiber of my being screaming to intervene, to spare her from the unbearable torment.

    But I held fast. She must endure. It is the only path to victory.

    The Sanctuary of Light trembled violently, its once-stalwart walls crumbling under the relentless onslaught of our battle.

    Everywhere we clashed, the floor shattered and powerful waves of ardor, darkness, light, and blood ripped into the runes and white stones that made up the Sanctuary.

    I felt a surge of ardor behind me, prompting me to leap aside just in time as a devastating beam of crimson lightning and a barrage of ice spears, swords, and colossal spikes from Carlo and Krystal assailed Isaac and Iris.

    The echo of Iris''s anguished scream reverberated throughout the cavern, nearly paralyzing me in my tracks.

    "No. Iris!" I rushed forward as the lightning sparkled away and a thick fog washed over me.

    Please be okay!

    The fog was blown away by raging ardor to reveal a sight from my nightmares.

    Iris''s body was covered in blood, her form battered and broken, her once-immaculate uniform now a tattered mess, revealing gruesome wounds that marred her flesh, some exposing bone.

    The sheer horror of her injuries threatened to overwhelm me, but her eyes, wild and bloodshot, gleamed with unyielding determination as she continued to rain blows upon the paladin, leaving deep gouges in his radiant armor.

    Witnessing her primal fury ignited a fire within me, hardening my resolve.

    Pushing past the limits of my fatigue and pain, I surged forward, knowing that time was of the essence.

    If I were to deactivate my stigma, I would lose my acquired skills, but there existed a minuscule window, mere milliseconds before the penalty took effect.

    In that fleeting moment, I would unleash my most potent strike, not one borrowed from Isaac, but one honed over a lifetime on Earth.

    I just needed to reach that window.

    I needed more power.

    My blood vessels ruptured, and crimson jets sprayed from my skin, the pain drowned out by the surge of adrenaline coursing through my veins.

    Muscles tore, and bones cracked under the strain of the immense power propelling my body beyond its limits.

    With a scream of defiance, I shot forward, appearing before Isaac.

    He pivoted to meet me, but I pushed Transcendence to its breaking point, teetering on the edge of mental collapse.

    Transcendence: Absolute Nirvana.

    In an instant, time halted, freezing everything in its tracks.

    Even Isaac, poised to strike, was suspended in motion, his sword held aloft.

    Gritting my teeth against the blood that obscured my vision, I deactivated my stigma.

    Ten milliseconds.

    In that frozen moment, I unleashed my most devastating slash directly at Isaac''s chest.

    The blow struck true, shattering the frozen world as a gaping wound tore through the paladin''s armor, unleashing a blinding burst of light.

    "ARGH! THAT HURT!" he bellowed.

    My body drained of all strength and skill, collapsed forward as Isaac advanced, delivering a crushing downward blow.

    My sword spun through the air as my arm was severed cleanly from my body, a spray of blood accompanying its trajectory.

    Just before Isaac could deliver the fatal blow, Iris, her eyes ablaze with fury, drove her daggers into the gaps in his armor, diverting his attention.

    As I lay helpless on the ground, I summoned the last remnants of my fading strength and control over ardor, extending my arm to unleash my final gambit.

    {Haema: Crimson Nova}

    A surge of blood erupted, coalescing into a growing sphere that engulfed us, its tendrils reaching out to touch the massive crystal at the heart of the cavern.

    The sphere pulsed with power before condensing into a tiny marble in my palm.

    "Suck on this," I muttered, before the marble exploded in a cataclysmic burst of crimson energy, consuming everything within the perimeter of the dome that once encapsulated the Sanctuary.

    *******

    As the dust settled and the crimson mist dissipated in the cavern''s vast expanse, Mordred lay prone on the ground, his body battered and broken.

    Krystal and Carlo emerged from their cover, their faces pale and eyes wide with shock as they surveyed the aftermath of the explosion.

    There was no sign of Iris.

    Mordred struggled to lift his gaze, his vision swimming with pain.

    Just then, a terrifying wave of ardor surged over him.

    With a thunderous roar that shook the very foundations of the mountain, Isaac burst forth from the rubble.

    His once-pristine armor was now heavily scarred and cracked, radiating an unstable brilliance that fractured the stone floor beneath him.

    "MARVELOUS! ABSOLUTELY MARVELOUS! I ACKNOWLEDGE YOU, MORDRED PENDRAGON! YOU TRULY CARRY THE BLOOD OF THAT MAN!" His voice boomed, echoing through the cavern��s vastness.

    His blazing eyes locked onto Mordred.

    "But I am afraid this is the end," he declared, summoning his sword, which now blazed with a renewed, almost blinding intensity, as he advanced menacingly.

    "Shit," the young Pendragon muttered, his voice trembling with a mix of dread and determination as the paladin drew nearer.

    Carlo and Krystal watched in horror, their breaths coming in short, panicked gasps as Isaac��s armor flared with dangerous intensity.

    Just as Isaac raised his sword to deliver the final blow, he staggered.

    His aura flickered and dimmed, and his eyes widened in sudden, bewildered realization.

    "Impossible!" he roared, his voice tinged with desperation.

    Mordred��s earpiece crackled to life with Artemis''s urgent, excited voice. "We found the artifact! We��ve lit it up!"

    Isaac��s confident demeanor shattered. "Impossible! That artifact has no hold over me! I am strong enough to exist without an anchor!"

    "True. But it weakened you significantly," a calm, resolute voice interjected from behind him.

    For the first time in his immortal existence, Isaac Zierhart felt the cold grip of fear.

    Rising like a specter from the shadows, Iris��s bloodied form emerged.

    Darkness swirled around her, and the markings on her face glowed with a menacing intensity.

    Coup de grace.

    Her black daggers flashed with lethal precision, and a burst of darkness tore through Isaac��s chest, followed by a surge of pure, blinding white light.

    "Ah. My Goddess..." Isaac murmured, a sense of weightlessness enveloping him as he sank to his knees.

    His once-fiery gaze softened into one of disbelief and resignation.

    As his spirit began to fade, he mustered the last of his strength to ask one final question. "Child of Darkness. What is your name?"

    Iris''s blue eyes met the gaze of the fallen paladin as his spirit dissipated from his armor.

    "My name is Iris Kar-"

    She stopped, thought for a bit, and shook her head with a smile.

    "No. I''ll no longer use that name."

    She looked at Mordred and then at the paladin.

    "My name is Iris Lefay."

    Isaac Zierhart, the paladin of the Incarnus of Lux, breathed out his final words as his spirit dissipated.

    "Ah. The Fairy."

 69 On A Million Dead Bodies

    The last remnants of Isaac Zierhart''s spirit dissipated into the frigid air of the cavern, leaving a haunting stillness in its wake.

    As the clatter of Isaac''s shattered armor echoed through the cavern, Iris, her strength waning, staggered over and collapsed beside me.

    Blood trickled from her lips with each heaving breath, the sound of her coughs filled with pain and exhaustion.

    "That sucked," she gasped, struggling with each breath.

    "Yeah. But damn, what a fight," I said, a weak smile tugging at my lips.

    "Guys! You''re alive!" Apollo''s voice rang out as he and Artemis emerged from a hole in the ground, supporting Ava between them.

    "Of course we are!" Krystal exclaimed as she and Carlo approached from the other side.

    "That was the most dangerous battle I had ever fought," Carlo said, his gaze lingering on the shattered remnants of the paladin''s armor.

    "An S-ranked paladin. What an absolute monster. He even tanked Crimson Nova, one of the most powerful Haema codes," he spoke in awe.

    I chuckled weakly, "Trust me, facing an S rank like Asphodel will make you wish for a change of pants. I did, and it''s an experience I don''t plan on repeating."

    Ava looked down at me in disbelief. "You wet your pants in battle?"

    Still lying on the ground, I nodded, "Yep! And like I said. Not something I want to talk about."

    Iris coughed violently, spraying blood into the air.

    "I''ll tap out. See you in a week," she murmured weakly.

    "You better not die," I said with concern.

    She managed a faint laugh, "Not planning on it."

    With that, the Fairy of Tenebris slipped into unconsciousness.

    "Minerva," I called out to the Shield AI.

    "What is it?" her cool voice asked in my ear.

    "How long till reinforcements arrive?" I asked, wincing at the slightest movement. Though I had sealed the stump of my severed arm, the pain persisted and my whole body hurt like hell.

    "They''ll take approximately one hour to reach your location," the AI replied.

    "Fantastic," I muttered, spitting out a mouthful of blood. "We''ve stationed Basil and Perry near the entrance for patrol duty. They''ll guide the Deathwalkers," I informed Minerva.

    "Understood. I will relay the information to the team leader," Minerva confirmed before signing off.

    I settled my head on the soft, glowing grass, my gaze drifting to the colossal crystal embedded in the cavern roof.

    This was a close call.

    Even my strongest code was unable to defeat Isaac. If it weren''t for Iris''s stigma, we''d be goners.

    I clenched my fist. I must get stronger.

    I better hit the training area after I am healed.

    Speaking of healing...

    "Hey, everyone!" I called out, my voice hoarse. "Don''t forget to gather your severed body parts. The healers need them to patch us back together."

    "Including your arm, Vice Captain?" Krystal quipped with a playful grin.

    I rolled my eyes, "Obviously. Do you see me walking around like you lot?"

    "Got it!"

    "Oh," I turned to Artemis, who carefully retrieved her severed arm, dusting off the debris.

    "Artemis, could you lead the Deathwalkers to the room where you found the artifacts?" I asked.

    She nodded, "Yeah. I can do that."

    I grinned, "Here''s a little perk for you all. You''re entitled to a share if you discover a treasure trove during an expedition. In your case, you, Apollo, and Ava can each take one artifact for yourselves."

    Her eyes lit up and an excited smile graced her lips, "Really?"

    "Help yourselves," I said with a smile.

    She pumped her fist with an excited squeal. Then she looked at me as if she remembered something.

    "What about the journal?" she asked.

    "Ah," I pondered briefly.

    Just before the battle, I had stashed it inside my bracelet. "I''ll hold onto it for now," I decided.

    Artemis looked concerned, "But-"

    "I know it''s important," I sighed, "I''ll read it first and then hand it over to the Commander."

    She raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

    "Absolutely," I affirmed.

    "Fair enough," she conceded, placing my severed arm beside me.

    "Looks like you could use a hand," she quipped, sticking out her tongue before wandering off to explore the cavern, leaving Iris and me on the ground.

    I rolled my eyes. "Prick."

    Shifting to face Iris, who lay unconscious beside me, I couldn''t help but smile despite her bloodied visage.

    Despite the wounds, she remained as beautiful as ever.

    She had become strong enough not to die after using her stigma, but I still worry for her.

    Her final words to the fading paladin echoed in my mind.

    Iris Lefay

    The surname my aunt once bore in my past life.

    What an interesting coincidence.

    With that realization settling in, I closed my eyes, allowing myself to drift into the embrace of darkness.

    *******

    "You''ve grown stronger."

    Iris remarked as both of us collapsed on the cool floor of the sparring court, utterly exhausted after an intense session.

    A week had passed since our encounter with Isaac Zierhart, and Iris had only woken up two days ago.

    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Today was the day she got discharged from Althea, and that too after throwing a huge tantrum.

    How does she celebrate her recovery?

    By whipping out her daggers and engaging in an absolutely insane one-on-one spar with yours truly.

    And boy, she was stronger than ever!

    It was as if her time in the intensive care unit had merely been a power nap. Her movements were even more precise, her strikes even fiercer.

    Fortunately, I had also undergone significant growth. Now, I could effectively keep up with her lightning-fast attacks.

    I surveyed the carnage we had wrought during our spar.

    Deep gouges and blast craters adorned the sparring court''s floor, walls, and ceiling, with shattered concrete, metal, and stone scattered around us.

    I chuckled and wiped the sweat from my forehead. "I went for re-evaluation. Turns out the battle with old Tin Head boosted me to Master A rank."

    "Ah," Iris arched her eyebrows, "Congratulations!"

    I looked at her, "What about you? You become an S rank yet?"

    She shook her head. "Nah, but I��m almost there."

    Iris held out a finger, "One more significant drop and I��m an S ranker."

    I grinned, "Nice. Also, I heard you��ll get the title of Reaper for defeating Zierhart."

    Iris rolled her eyes. "Defeating that paladin was a group effort."

    "But you dealt the final blow," I pointed out.

    She pondered for a few seconds before shrugging. "Huh. Maybe I did deserve that title."

    "Somebody��s being humble," I teased.

    "Rich words coming from a narcissist," Iris retorted.

    I swept my white hair, which now reached my shoulders. "What can I say? I��m just that beautiful."

    "Incarni! You are sufferable!"

    Iris sighed and looked at the destroyed ceiling as if pondering something.

    "Hey. Are you free tonight?" she asked, turning her attention back to me.

    I considered my schedule before nodding. "I think so. What do you have in mind?"

    For the first time, Iris seemed a bit flustered. "I was wondering if we could meet up for some late-night snacks?"

    I arched my eyebrows. "Sure. Where?"

    "The Tomb?" she suggested.

    An awkward silence followed her suggestion.

    I frowned. "The Tomb? What, you want to book a spot?"

    "Haha. Very funny."

    "What can I say? My humor is as wonderful as my beauty," I quipped.

    "Yeah, yeah. You''re the greatest comedian in the Shield," Iris said, rolling her eyes before turning to me. "So, will you make it?"

    I grinned. "Late-night snack on a million dead bodies? Sounds delightful."

    Her blue eyes lit up. "Awesome!"

    With that, she sprang to her feet and hurried towards the door. "Oh, and make sure to dress appropriately! Don��t you dare show up in your uniform!"

    I snorted. "You should take your own advice! Try not to arrive at the Tomb buck naked, you shameless creature!"

    "Screw you!" she retorted as the blue ends of her hair disappeared beyond the doorway.

    I shook my head, accidentally bringing out my grown-up mentality.

    I��ll never fully comprehend that girl.

    But I have a vague idea of what is going to happen on that mountain, and I placed a hand on my fluttering heart.

    I smiled.

    Let��s see what she��s cooking.

    *******

    "Vice Captain Mordred! It''s good to see you!"

    As I passed through the gate leading to the entrance of the Tomb, one of the Deathwalker guards greeted me warmly.

    The night sky was adorned with countless stars, their twinkling forming a celestial tapestry against the dark expanse.

    Amidst this vastness, the soft glow emanating from Orionis and Galadria, the twin moons of planet Asteris, cast an ethereal illumination.

    Their gentle light lent an eerie beauty to the landscape, their silvery hues painting delicate shadows across the rugged terrain around me.

    However, their radiance paled in comparison to the brilliant lights emanating from the facility at the base of the Tomb.

    Standing at the base now, I couldn''t help but be awestruck by the colossal size of the mountain, its peak piercing through the clouds high above.

    The field surrounding the mountain''s base was bustling with activity, filled with trucks and robots transporting caskets, and mechanima patrols, particularly mechanized dogs, securing the perimeter.

    Embedded into the rocky face of the mountain were two imposing black doors adorned with the Pendragon symbol and inscribed with a message in runic language.

    Rest In Death

    A shiver ran down my spine as I read the chilling message, an eerie calm enveloping me as my gaze traced the rugged expanse of the mountain.

    Beyond the cold, unforgiving rock lay the final resting place of countless Deathwalkers, their lives claimed by the merciless blades of daemons.

    I swallowed hard, hoping I wouldn''t find myself brought here anytime soon.

    "Considering booking a room here?"

    Iris''s voice startled me from behind, causing me to jump.

    "Jeez! Where did you come from? The bloody shadows?"

    She smirked, "A Tenebris warlock, remember? Shadows are kinda my thing."

    She skipped ahead of me, pointing excitedly at a metal pathway winding up the side of the mountain, leading towards the summit.

    "Last one to the top has to do laundry duty for a whole week," she challenged.

    "No chance I''m dealing with your dirty socks and underwear," I retorted, leaning forward and channeling ardor into my legs.

    With a burst of ardor, we both sprinted towards the pathway.

    *******

    "Damnit!" I exclaimed, hands on my knees as I gasped for breath.

    The frigid mountain air pierced my lungs with each inhale, sending a sharp chill through my chest.

    "Try not to get enamored by my underwear," Iris''s playful voice floated back to me, prompting a string of colorful curses to escape my lips.

    After catching my breath, I straightened up and gasped at the sight before us.

    We stood on a narrow ledge near the summit, overlooking the majestic expanse of Les Anciennes stretching out to the north.

    The many rugged peaks reached towards the heavens, cloaked in a blanket of mist that danced around the craggy cliffs.

    The snow-capped peaks glistened like diamonds under the soft glow, while the valleys below cradled patches of verdant forest and meandering streams, adding a touch of serene beauty to the rugged landscape.

    From this vantage point, the sky seemed closer than ever, with stars shining brightly and the two moons casting their silvery glow upon Asteris like watchful guardians.

    "Whoa," I breathed out, mesmerized by the grandeur before me. Iris joined me, her presence adding to the awe-inspiring scene.

    Iris approached beside me, "I know, right? This side of the Tomb provides a spectacular view."

    "And a perfect spot for a picnic," she remarked, gesturing towards a flat spot nearby.

    I whistled, "Didn''t expect a mountain of death to have such a nice place."

    A constant frigid wind blew over us, but due to the ardor covering our bodies, it didn''t bother us, which was fortunate since we weren''t exactly dressed for this altitude.

    I donned a pristine black turtleneck paired with white pants, completing the look with a long gray scarf.

    Meanwhile, Iris opted for a loose light blue shirt and gray pants beneath a sleek black long coat. Her hair, tied in a casual ponytail, danced freely in the wind.

    Despite her simple attire, Iris''s beauty was utterly captivating, leaving me breathless.

    The soft moonlight highlighted the delicate features of her face, casting a radiant glow upon her skin and glinting off the piercings on her ear.

    Her bright blue eyes, reminiscent of lapis lazuli and sapphires, twinkled mischievously, drawing me in with each glance.

    I marveled at how effortlessly she blended into the natural beauty of the mountain range spread out before us, her spirit as wild and untamed as the landscape around us.

    She truly is like a goddess, fierce and powerful while also enchantingly beautiful.

    Even the scars, faintly visible beneath her clothes, added to her allure, glowing softly in the moonlight.

    It was as if Orionis and Galadria themselves wanted me to witness the complete essence of Iris Lefay, a child of Darkness who, despite being marred by the scars of the past and present, stood strong and beautiful on top of the somber Tomb.

    Setting up a makeshift picnic, Iris laid out a casserole, a flask, and two coffee mugs on the blanket.

    "Come on," she beckoned to me as she relaxed on the blanket, the silvery moonlight bouncing off her hair and making her blue ends glow.

    She opened the lid of the casserole to reveal an array of neatly arranged sandwiches and fries.

    The captivating and mouthwatering aroma hit my nose and almost knocked me off my feet.

    "Whoa! Where did you get them?" I asked, settling right next to her and reaching for a sandwich.

    Iris gave a smug smile, "I prepared them."

    I stared at her in disbelief, "No way. You can cook?"

    She smirked confidently. "Prepare to be enveloped by the sheer genius of my cooking!"

 70 Lets Open A Cafe

    Truly exquisite.

    Freshly baked bread enveloped layers of succulent roast beef, generously smothered in a creamy, tangy sauce infused with the perfect blend of sourness and cheesy goodness, punctuated by the subtle crunch of spring onions.

    The savory richness of aged cheese mingled harmoniously with the sweetness of caramelized onions and the tantalizing spiciness of roasted red peppers, creating a symphony of flavors that danced on my palate.

    Crisp lettuce and juicy tomato slices added a refreshing burst of freshness, elevating the entire combination to new heights of culinary perfection.

    And the fries, oh, the fries were a revelation.

    Golden and crispy, fried to perfection in high-quality oil and seasoned with a flawless blend of spices and herbs.

    Each bite was a culinary masterpiece, leaving me yearning for more.

    "This is divine!" I exclaimed after inhaling two sandwiches in five minutes.

    Iris smirked proudly. "Of course it is divine! I made it!"

    I took a sip of the coffee, savoring its rich flavor.

    "Damn! This coffee is a treasure!" I praised.

    Iris laughed. "That''s because I didn''t brew it."

    I blinked in surprise. "Huh?"

    "Artemis brewed the coffee for me. Apparently, the coffee I make tends to spew out a toxic cloud," she explained with a sheepish smile.

    I stared at her in disbelief. "You can whip up amazing food, but you''re hopeless at brewing coffee?"

    "And tea," she added with a sigh. "I once inadvertently poisoned our ex-captain with a cup of tea I brewed."

    "You poisoned Jack Raven?!" I exclaimed. "How the fuck do you mess up tea?"

    She shook her head. "I have no idea."

    "It''s bloody tea!"

    "Oh, I''m sorry if I am culinarily challenged in the art of tea brewing!" she retorted with a pout.

    "And directionally challenged," I added with a raised eyebrow.

    "That''s it! No more sandwiches for you!" Iris declared, swiftly closing the casserole and concealing it behind her.

    "Oi!" I protested, grabbing another sandwich before it disappeared completely.

    We locked eyes in a brief standoff, each daring the other to make a move, before collapsing into laughter.

    "You really do love those sandwiches, don''t you?" Iris remarked, her laughter contagious as she retrieved a sandwich from the casserole and placed it between us.

    "Duh," I replied between bites, nearly choking on my laughter as we shared this moment under the watchful gaze of the stars and moons above.

    *******

    It didn''t take long for the casserole to be emptied.

    "That was refreshing," I remarked, savoring the last drops of coffee from my mug.

    "Indeed," Iris agreed, her gaze fixed on the night sky, the myriad stars reflecting in her blue eyes.

    Turning to me, she hugged her knees, a contemplative expression crossing her beautiful face.

    "Hey, Mordred?"

    "Yeah?" I responded, setting down my mug to give her my full attention.

    "What will you do after leaving the Shield?" Her question caught me off guard.

    "After leaving the Shield, huh?" I leaned back and stared at the stars. Perhaps she was asking since I only had a few months left in my sentence.

    But I had decided to stay for one more year and live with her. If she was asking about that time, then...

    "I have no idea," I admitted with a shrug of my shoulders.

    She tilted her head, a curious glint in her eyes. "The High Prince doesn''t know what he will do? Interesting. What about the Dawn Palace? Don''t you want to return there?"

    I scoffed. "And relive those terrible memories? No, thank you." But then, a sudden idea sparked in my mind.

    "Although, if it means having the chance to beat the ever-living shit out of those bastard servants..."

    A wicked grin spread across my lips. "Perhaps it''s not such a bad idea after all."

    Iris couldn''t help but laugh, her voice ringing out like a melody in the mountain breeze.

    "Now that''s more like it," she chuckled. "Any chance you can let me in on the action as well?"

    "It''s an open invitation," I replied.

    "Nice!"

    We exchanged a wicked grin at the prospect of brutally beating up some rude lowly servants.

    "Well. That is something to look forward to," Iris chuckled, taking a deep breath.

    "What about Avalon?" she asked.

    I furrowed my brow, puzzled. "Avalon?"

    Iris nodded. "Yeah. Merlin promised you a seat in the academy if you survive three years here. Remember?"

    "Ah!" I suddenly remembered the promise the warlock made to me.

    "I can''t wait to punch her in the face," I flexed my fingers with anticipation.

    Iris chuckled. "Somebody is motivated now."

    I turned to her. "What about you? Any plans after you gain your freedom?"

    Iris smiled. "Unlike you, I have some ideas."

    "Who are you, and what have you done with Iris? There is no way she would plan for the future," I joked, giving her a playful glare.

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    She shoved me playfully. "Oh, screw you."

    I laughed. "So, spill it. What''s on your mind? Heading back home?"

    Iris shuddered. "Hell no. I''m not going anywhere near that place. I''m sure my ''brothers'' are still plotting ways to get rid of me."

    "Nope, I''m getting as far away as possible," she continued. "I''ve saved up enough to go it alone, maybe find a cozy spot to settle down."

    She smiled at me. "If you don''t want to go back to the Dawn Palace, you''re welcome to stay with me."

    My heart skipped a beat at her offer. "Us together? That sounds like a recipe for disaster."

    Iris chuckled. "Let''s just hope we don''t accidentally burn the place down."

    "Do you have a place in mind?" I asked.

    "Uh-huh," she nodded. "Blackrose Island."

    I raised an eyebrow. "That''s an interesting choice for real estate. You do realize that''s where the High King spent his childhood?"

    "Of course," she snorted. "But I didn''t choose the island for that reason. It''s secluded but still connected to civilization."

    "Plus," she leaned in closer, "I''ve always wanted to see the black roses that gave the island its name."

    "I''ve heard their petals are as dark as the power and beauty of Tenebris," she whispered playfully into my ear, her warm breath sending shivers down my spine.

    Caught in the moment, I found myself lost in the depths of her sparkling blue eyes, alive with mischief beneath the moonlit sky.

    I grinned playfully. "I bet they''re not nearly as stunning and captivating as you are," I whispered back.

    A flush of color spread across her cheeks, and she chuckled softly. "You''re quite the smooth talker, aren''t you?"

    I shrugged casually, a smirk playing on my lips. "What can I say? My silver tongue and words are as beautiful as me."

    She rolled her eyes. "Your narcissism is showing, Mordred."

    I tousled my snow-white hair playfully, chuckling. "Well, with a beauty like mine, can you blame me?"

    "Oh, Incarni! You''re hopeless!" she sighed, though a hint of amusement danced in her eyes. "But I suppose that''s part of your charm," she conceded with a grin.

    I nodded in agreement, a playful twinkle in my eyes.

    "So, Blackrose Island," I interjected. "You don''t strike me as the type to settle down quietly."

    "Absolutely not," Iris confirmed, her eyes lighting up with excitement as she turned to face me.

    "Let''s open a cafe."

    "A cafe?" I echoed, caught off guard by her suggestion.

    She nodded eagerly, her enthusiasm contagious. "I always wanted to open one. With my culinary skills and your... well, good looks, we''ll be attracting customers left and right!"

    I chuckled, the idea beginning to grow on me. "Well, as long as you leave the coffee brewing to me," I teased, flashing her a grin. "And I can whip up a mean sandwich too."

    Her eyes widened in surprise. "No way! You can cook?"

    I nodded proudly. "Yep. Consider it a promise. I''ll treat you to an amazing meal next time."

    "I''ll take that invitation," Iris beamed, her excitement palpable. "And I suppose we''ll take turns cooking and waiting tables."

    Extending her finger, she added, "But this won''t be just any ordinary cafe. It''ll be a hub for gathering information and accepting commissions from well-paying clients."

    I whistled. "Ooh. Kind of like a guild?"

    "Exactly," Iris confirmed with a nod. "But with a more laid-back atmosphere. That way, we can enjoy running the cafe while still embracing our powers as warlocks."

    I chuckled, the idea growing more intriguing as the moment passed. "So, a cafe run by freelance warlocks and former Deathwalkers who are ready to jump into action?"

    "Exactly," she affirmed. "It''s going to be awesome."

    I grinned, though a hint of teasing crept into my voice. "Well, as long as we can keep from disintegrating the cafe in our kitchen disputes."

    "Oh, that''s a given. I''ll fight to the death for that bloody frying pan," Iris affirmed, her determination shining in her eyes.

    We locked gazes for a moment before erupting into another fit of laughter.

    After we calmed down, Iris rested her head on my shoulder.

    "Mordred."

    "Yeah?"

    "You don''t have to stay for my sake. You could leave this year," she said, her voice softer than usual.

    Which sounded really weird and out of place.

    I knew this conversation would come up eventually.

    "But that would mean leaving you here alone for a year. How could I walk free knowing you''re still stuck in this hell?" I replied.

    She grinned mischievously. "Wouldn''t that make you miss me even more and fall further for me?"

    "Oh, you sneaky little..." I sighed.

    A smile tugged at my lips. "It may sound fucked up, but the Shield has become more of a home to me than the Dawn Palace ever was."

    "It''s the same for me," Iris admitted. "But like you said, it is fucked up. We may be powerful A rankers, but anything can happen. This is the bloody Tear we are talking about."

    "And there is no way I am dying before opening our cafe and going on adventures," she continued.

    "I''ll be fine, Mordred. I''m strong. Just wait for me."

    "In the meantime, you can scout out a good spot for the cafe and use your High Prince powers to secure us a place on Blackrose Island," she said.

    I gently stroked the blue ends of her hair that glowed faintly in the moonlight.

    I then bonked her on the head.

    "Ow!" she protested.

    "That is a good idea," I admitted. "But we can do that even after a year."

    Turning to her, I spoke. "I want to stay with you. We can leave the Shield together. After all, you and I are the only ones who can keep each other out of trouble."

    Iris nodded. "True. Plus, you are the only one I ever cared for."

    Her cheeks flushed crimson. "Incarni! I really did say that, didn''t I?"

    I nodded. "Yep. You did."

    She frowned and let out an exasperated groan. "But you''re such a stubborn idiot. Can''t you just listen to me? I''m your superior, for the Incarnis'' sake!"

    I grinned, "Nope."

    My pulse quickened as I gazed at her ethereal face, summoning my courage.

    In my past life, I had indulged in countless flings with different women.

    Driven by carnal desire, I never had the chance to experience what it means to love.

    Sheesh. Thinking about my womanizing days on Earth suddenly makes me feel very uncomfortable.

    But this, whatever this was with Iris, felt different, more profound, more meaningful. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced.

    Weird.

    Very weird.

    I stared into her blue eyes and confessed, "I''m afraid I''ve already fallen for you, Iris."

    "Idiot."

    That''s what I heard before a punch landed square on my face.

    "Ouch! What was that for?" I demanded, tasting blood on my lips.

    Before I could process what was happening, Iris grabbed my collar and pressed her lips firmly against mine.

    Caught off guard, I instinctively wrapped my arms around her, pulling her closer.

    For a heartbeat, time stood still, leaving only the sensation of her lips moving against mine.

    As we finally broke apart, I blinked, staring at her flushed face and lips reddened by my blood.

    "What the fuck?" I blurted out in a squeaky voice.

    Iris grinned, her eyes twinkling mischievously, her lips curved seductively like a vampire in the moonlight.

    Licking her lips, she purred, "I guess I have fallen for you as well."

    "That punch was for bonking me earlier and being a stubborn twat," she continued, her smile widening.

    "Also," she added playfully, "your blood tastes amazing."

    I stared at her and chuckled, "You''re a bloody freak."

    She played her fingers over my chest, a coy smile playing on her lips.

    "I know," she admitted with a wink. "I''m a bloody freak."

    Leaning closer, our breaths mingled as we shared another kiss, our lips still tinged with the taste of blood.

    At that moment, time seemed to stand still again, leaving only the soft exchange of breath and the tender embrace of our scarred bodies drawing closer.

    Under the watchful gaze of Orionis and Galadria, the twin moons casting their ethereal glow upon us, we kissed atop the countless souls laid to rest in the Tomb.

 71 Malevolent Tidings

    Location: The Karsus Estate

    The sound of footsteps reverberated through the grand hallway as the young man strode purposefully across the smooth, mosaic marble floor.

    Despite the fierce storm raging outside, the soundproofed windows allowed only a faint murmur of its fury to penetrate the opulent interior.

    Flashes of lightning pierced the darkness, their brilliance muted by the bright lights that bathed the hallway in a steady glow.

    In the illumination, the serious expression on the young man''s face was starkly evident as he advanced toward the imposing door.

    His golden eyes gleamed with a hint of malevolence, accentuated by the deepening scowl etched upon his features with each determined step.

    Restless fingers brushed against the ugly scar marring his left cheek, a stark contrast to his otherwise ethereal beauty.

    "What are you doing standing there like a fool, Cyrus? Enter," commanded the cold, harsh voice of his brother from beyond the closed doors.

    With a resigned sigh, Cyrus Karsus pushed open the ornate doors and entered the lavishly appointed office, bowing his head. "Your senses are sharp as always, Silas."

    "I sensed your presence the instant you set foot in the mansion, Cyrus," replied Silas Karsus, fixing his deep black irises on his younger brother.

    Silas''s shoulder-length black hair, adorned with striking blue highlights, shimmered in the light cast by the ornate chandelier.

    Unlike his brother, Silas''s handsome visage was unmarred by scars. But his condition was far worse.

    The barely audible hum of the motor filled the silence as Silas maneuvered his automated wheelchair toward the draped window.

    The drapes parted effortlessly, revealing the tumultuous storm outside.

    Rain pounded against the massive glass panes, while flashes of lightning illuminated Silas''s obsidian eyes with an electric intensity.

    "What is it?" he asked, his gaze still fixed on the raging storm outside.

    Cyrus took a deep breath and spoke, "Our spy has news about her, and it is bad."

    "Every piece of news about her is bad," growled the elder Karsus brother. "And now my day is ruined."

    He gripped the armrest of his wheelchair, and a terrifying aura descended on the room, suffocating Cyrus.

    "That cursed, half-blooded abomination destroyed my future as a warlock, along with my ability to walk," Silas spat out, his voice layered with ardor, causing even the resolute Cyrus to quail in fear.

    "Not even the most advanced ardor medical procedures could repair the damage she inflicted upon me."

    "She killed Mother and our youngest brother," Cyrus added gravely.

    "Ah, yes," Silas responded with a dry chuckle, "but they are in a better state than I am. At least they are at peace in death, while I am left crippled, condemned to this damned wheelchair."

    "You can use the exoskeleton that was made for you," Cyrus pointed out, massaging his head as if he had had this conversation many times before.

    "I look like a fucking clown in that!" Silas retorted sharply.

    "I''ll ask Father to arrange for a sleeker model," Cyrus persisted.

    "Father?" Silas laughed bitterly. "He abandoned me after the incident, deeming me unworthy to inherit the duchy."

    "That vixen didn''t just destroy my ability to walk but also stripped me of my mastery over ardor and strand. Now, all I can do is unleash my aura," Silas concluded, his voice heavy with resignation and bitterness.

    "I should have impaled that whore while she still carried that cursed half-blood in her womb all those years ago," Silas seethed, his voice thick with venom.

    Cyrus''s eye twitched at his brother''s relentless tirade. "Are you quite finished with yet another rant about your wretched state and that abominable half-blood?"

    Silas swiftly spun around in his wheelchair, fixing Cyrus with a chilling glare. "What did you just say?"

    "Exactly what I said," Cyrus retorted, his patience wearing thin. "You launch into these tirades every time I bring news concerning her. Now shut up and listen, or I''ll personally see to it that you take a tumble out of that window."

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    His golden eyes flashed dangerously in the flickering light of the storm, his scar lending him a terrifying countenance.

    Silas fixed his brother with a steely glare before letting out a resigned sigh. "What news does the spy bring?"

    Cyrus''s expression darkened. "She has become a Reaper and is on the verge of attaining S rank status."

    Silas narrowed his eyes. "She has one more year left, right?"

    Cyrus nodded gravely. "Indeed. And it''s entirely plausible that she will achieve S rank by then. And when she is free, what is to stop her from visiting us and finishing what she started four years ago?"

    Silas''s eyes glinted dangerously. "She can never touch Father."

    "And what about us?" Cyrus''s expression grew grim. "You are crippled, and I am only an intermediate A ranker. She will slaughter us like pigs."

    Silas''s fingers intertwined as he contemplated their predicament. "We must eliminate her."

    The situation required delicate handling.

    The Shield stood as a vital bulwark against the encroaching threat of the daemons. Any damage to the structure in their attempts to get rid of her would have dire consequences.

    They couldn''t send assassins disguised as Deathwalkers to the Shield either.

    She had a very keen nose for assassins, and the no-killing rule inside the Shield would alert the AI, leading to the killer facing an army of seasoned Deathwalkers thirsty for blood.

    Not even the hardiest assassin would want to face those insane killing machines.

    Silas noticed the expression on his brother''s face. "You look like you figured out a way."

    Cyrus''s lips curled into a sly smile. "Indeed, I have." He produced a glass canister from his pocket, its ends adorned with intricately engraved metal runes.

    To an outsider, it might resemble an ornate soda can, but to Silas, it was unmistakably something more significant.

    Silas''s eyes widened at the sight of the canister. "Is that...?"

    Cyrus nodded. "The wraith trapper, ready for use."

    He held up the glass canister. "This device can ensnare a wraith in its ethereal form for an extended duration. The runes act as a lure, attracting the wraith as soon as it emerges from a daemon and securely imprisoning it."

    "With this version, we can trap up to a hundred wraiths." He tapped a small cap on the top of the canister. "Release this, and the trapped wraiths will escape."

    Silas arched an eyebrow. "You think they would possess her?"

    Cyrus nodded. "Even if she doesn''t get possessed, the wraiths surrounding her would tear her to pieces."

    His older brother gave him a disturbing smile. "That sounds delightful. Send it to our spy immediately and instruct them to start filling it up."

    Cyrus nodded. "Understood. I even have a plan to finish her off."

    He outlined the plan, and a wide grin spread across Silas''s face. "That is a good one! We could use a servant for this."

    He glanced at his brother. "You better get started."

    "Understood," Cyrus affirmed before turning to leave.

    "Oh, and Cyrus?" Silas called out.

    Cyrus turned back to face him.

    Silas''s expression turned serious. "Father must not know of this."

    "Of course," Cyrus assured him before exiting the office.

    Silas maneuvered his wheelchair next to the window, observing the intensifying storm outside.

    Lightning illuminated his obsidian eyes as a malevolent smile played across his lips.

    "Enjoy your life while it lasts, you vixen."

    *******

    [Back To Mordred]

    "Are you sure about this?" I yelled over the deafening roar of the ardor rail guns, their relentless barrage pounding the battlefield.

    Iris nodded, excitement gleaming in her bright blue eyes, her smile wild and daring. "Of course! This is going to be highly effective and fun!"

    I stared at her, then shrugged. "Fine." With a swift motion, I wrapped one of my blood tentacles around her waist.

    "Ah! That��s tight!" she exclaimed with a yelp as I lifted her into the air.

    "Oops," I smirked, adjusting my grip before launching her forward.

    "HEADS UP, YOU BASTARDS!" I bellowed, hurling Iris straight at the approaching horde of daemons emerging from the Tear.

    As she hurtled toward them, Iris cloaked herself in darkness, her form dissolving into shadow.

    At the last moment, just before colliding with the horde, she unleashed an explosion of sharp tentacles made of pure darkness, shredding the daemons into unrecognizable chunks.

    I whistled as I watched the aftermath. "That was a thing of beauty."

    "Can��t believe that actually worked!" Artemis exclaimed, landing beside me, her Yoyo glowing bright green as powerful winds swirled around it.

    "It��s Iris, after all." I grinned as I watched The Fairy of Tenebris weave through the remnants of the enemy forces, her movements fluid and graceful amidst the chaos.

    Artemis nodded with a smile. "You two make quite the couple."

    I smiled back. "Indeed we are."

    Suddenly, a daemon appeared right beside me, its daggers flashing as it lunged at my face.

    Sparks flew as I stopped the attack with a blood tentacle, staring into the blank, swirling void where its face should be.

    "I guess this isn��t the best time to admire my girlfriend��s insanity and beauty," I noted, casually pushing the daemon back.

    Artemis shrugged. "Maybe not, but it��s kinda sweet."

    "Really?" I turned to her, catching the glint of her golden eyes.

    She nodded, smiling. "What��s wrong with thinking about love in the middle of a battle?"

    "Huh. Wise words for a fifteen-year-old." I chuckled, then turned back to the daemon, my mood brightening.

    "Now, about your heart�� Let''s see how black it is in my hands."

 72 Wakey Wakey!

    "Well, this is quite amusing."

    Eravon remarked with a glimmer of amusement in his eyes as he leisurely stirred his tea.

    "Who would have thought that the formidable master A-ranked vice-captain of the notorious Lunatics would be taken down by an inadvertent bonk to the head from his subordinate''s Yoyo?"

    I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks as I buried my face in my hands, trying to hide my embarrassment.

    This time, we were in a grand room that likely served as a secondary dining hall in Camelot.

    The space was breathtakingly beautiful, with stained glass windows casting vibrant colors across the room and an ornate chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

    "It was purely accidental," I groaned, my voice muffled by my palms. "I was completely caught off guard amidst the chaos of battle."

    "Indeed," Eravon replied, his tone carrying a hint of skepticism. "Although, one could argue that the sight of Iris gracefully maneuvering around the battlefield may have been a tad distracting."

    He took a leisurely sip of his tea, his gaze lingering on me with a knowing glint.

    "Can you blame me? She''s my girlfriend, and she''s absolutely stunning! Besides, I can''t shake off the worry, especially considering she''s a woman!" I blurted out before I could stop myself.

    Eravon frowned. "Mordred, your sixth-century mindset is showing."

    I winced, realizing my mistake. "Apologies. It''s just that I can''t help but worry about her recklessness."

    "You''ve been living with her for three years now. Surely you understand by now that she''s more than capable of taking care of herself," the immortal warlock pointed out.

    I sighed, my grip tightening on my teacup. "I know, Eravon. It''s just..."

    "Your old-world chivalry surfacing from your past life?" Eravon interjected with a knowing smile.

    I nodded with a self-aware chuckle. "I guess old habits die hard."

    "Well, it''s not a bad thing," he replied, helping himself to a cream puff from the enticing spread of snacks in the center of the table. "I bet Iris would appreciate knowing that someone worries and cares for her."

    I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, swirling my cup absentmindedly. "You''re quite optimistic, Eravon. Navigating a proper relationship is new territory for me. I''m not sure where to begin."

    Eravon arched an eyebrow, intrigued. "But didn''t you have experience with marriage in your past life?"

    I couldn''t help but laugh. "Yes, I suppose I did."

    Memories flooded back, and I found myself lost in the image of my former wife. "Her name was Cwyllog. She was a princess, as kind as she was beautiful," I reminisced.

    A bittersweet smile tugged at my lips. "I was infatuated with her and asked for her hand in marriage."

    "Perhaps it was because of her kindness or my desperate desire to settle down after my many flings that she agreed to become my wife," I recounted with a heavy sigh.

    "I loved her, but it became clear that she didn''t reciprocate those feelings. To her, I was simply a friend who needed her support."

    Eravon winced sympathetically. "Ouch. Friend-zoned by your own wife?"

    I couldn''t help but smile at his reaction. "Yep. It seems even in my past life, I wasn''t the best at romance."

    "Well, after your passing, Cwyllog embraced a deeply religious life," Eravon revealed, a glimmer of admiration in his eyes. "She will be hailed as a saint in the future."

    I raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Is that so? I suppose she did always have a passion for establishing a church."

    I tilted my head and asked, "What about you? You''ve lived for so long. Surely you must''ve been in many relationships."

    Eravon chuckled softly, his eyes drifting into the past. "Sorry to disappoint you, Mordred, but I truly loved only one. My wife."

    "She was beautiful, kind, and incredibly clever," he reminisced, a melancholic smile touching his lips. "And she had a mischievous streak a mile wide."

    His blue eyes sparkled with fondness as he continued, "But what truly set her apart was her unwavering strength. No matter how brutal life became, she never gave up."

    "Even after we lost our daughter, even after I was cursed, she never gave up and stood by my side."

    "She forgave me for the abominable sin I had committed and dedicated her life to finding a way to free me."

    Eravon''s voice caught slightly as he went on, "Even when her hair turned grey, and her body became feeble, she never gave up. And in her final moments, she showed me what true love and resilience really meant."

    "Her passing left a void in me that grew with each passing day. It was a gut-wrenching pain, unlike anything I had ever felt," he confessed, his hand clasping his chest as if to ease the lingering ache.

    "For a few hundred years, I endured, but the void only seemed to deepen. So I sought solace in the company of other women, hoping they might fill the emptiness, but none were able to do it."

    "And just when I thought I would be condemned to live with that heart-wrenching void forever, a courtesan offered me unexpected wisdom."

    His eyes twinkled as he spoke. "She told me that I shouldn''t merely endure the emptiness, but rather fill it with the cherished memories I had of my wife."

    A gentle smile graced Eravon''s lips as he recalled her words. "She assured me that my wife always watches over me, and no matter where I go, she will be there with me, right here," he said, tapping his chest.

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    I chuckled. "Profound words from a woman of the night. No disrespect intended, of course."

    Eravon shrugged. "None taken. Besides, she was once a philosophy student before circumstances led her down a different path."

    "Her words saved me, in a way. And in return, I saved her. I took her under my wing, and she blossomed into one of the most powerful warlocks of her time," he said in a voice filled with pride.

    "Huh. Looks like people you help tend to become rather successful in life," I remarked.

    Eravon gave a proud smirk. "I''m such an amazing master. Just ask Merlin. I transformed that once-whiny girl into a figure revered by the entire world on the level of a god."

    My eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Merlin, a whiny kid? That''s unexpected. I''m intrigued to learn more about her past now."

    "You should hear it from her. It wasn''t sunshine and roses for her," Eravon replied, setting down his cup and reclining slightly.

    "To be candid, her past was a series of nightmares, ones that continue to haunt her every day."

    I frowned. "Are you trying to make me sympathize with the woman who ruined the life of the previous owner of this body?"

    Eravon shook his head. "I''m suggesting you comprehend her motivations, not necessarily sympathize with them."

    "Well, I''ll consider understanding her after I''ve landed a solid punch on her jaw," I declared, cracking my knuckles.

    He chuckled softly. "Oh, I don''t particularly mind you landing a punch on her pretty face."

    I stared at him, a grin spreading across my face. "You are such an amazing teacher."

    Eravon laughed heartily. "Yes, I am!"

    We shared a moment of camaraderie, our laughter echoing in the room.

    As the laughter subsided, a mischievous glint appeared in Eravon''s eyes.

    "So? How is life in a relationship?" he inquired.

    I shrugged, a smile playing on my lips. It had been four months since Iris and I became a couple.

    Those four months were just the best.

    "The usual routine, with the added bonus of dates, making out, and kissing," I replied.

    "Lots of making out and kissing," I emphasized, taking a sip of my tea.

    Eravon smiled knowingly. "Yeah. I noticed. That''s a lot of hickeys."

    I awkwardly adjusted my collar to hide the bruises. "Yep."

    He cocked an eyebrow. "Have you two taken things to the next level?"

    "You mean sex?" I chuckled. "No. Not yet."

    Eravon tilted his head curiously. "Why not? You two seem very close, and it''s evident both of you are randy teens crazy about each other."

    "You wouldn''t believe it, but the shameless Iris is quite shy when it comes to that," I explained.

    Eravon arched his eyebrows. "Huh. That child never ceases to surprise me."

    "Also, we don''t feel comfortable with Minerva''s constant monitoring," I added, leaning back in my chair.

    He nodded thoughtfully. "If I remember correctly, the red-light area blocks most of her monitoring, so she can only read the vitals."

    I nodded. "That''s why most Deathwalkers do the deed in the red-light area."

    "But you and Iris are banned from there," Eravon pointed out.

    "Yep," I sighed. "Plus, we don''t feel particularly safe in the Shield."

    "Sure, it��s like the only home we have, but the constant vigilance becomes ingrained, even in our sleep."

    "Indeed," Eravon mused, pouring himself another cup of tea. "It''s not the most conducive environment for, well, you know..."

    I chuckled softly. "Yeah, definitely not the ideal setting for having passionate lovemaking."

    "Well, it won''t be long before you two leave the Shield. I suggest you find a nice place far away from the North and then go crazy in bed," Eravon chimed in, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

    "Sounds like a good idea. I already have a place in mind," I confirmed, my thoughts lingering on the possibilities ahead.

    Eravon caught the contemplative look on my face and smiled knowingly. "So, will you wait until next year to leave with her, or will you heed her wishes and go next month?"

    I sighed, the weight of the decision pressing on me. "I don''t know, Eravon. Part of me wants to stay with her until the end of her sentence, to see it through together."

    "But another part of me wants to respect her wish to leave early, to find us a place where we can finally be together in peace."

    I gripped my teacup tightly, feeling the warmth seep into my hands. "I just don''t know what to do."

    Eravon leaned back, his expression softening. "Don''t dwell on it now. You still have a month to decide," he said, before flicking my forehead playfully.

    "Ow," I protested, rubbing the spot as the room began to dissolve around us, the vibrant colors fading into white.

    "It seems our time together is drawing to a close once more," Eravon remarked, a hint of sadness in his smile.

    He turned to me, the familiar playful glint in his eyes returning. "If you ever need relationship advice or tips to woo Iris, just knock yourself out on the battlefield again. I have millennia of experience, my disciple."

    I scoffed, a grin tugging at my lips. "Says the guy who can''t get over his wife."

    "Hey, that''s uncouth!" Eravon shot back, frowning theatrically before breaking into a smile.

    "Let''s meet again, Mordred."

    I nodded, standing as the world around us dissolved into a bright, blinding white.

    "See you later."

    *******

    I opened my eyes, and the first thing I saw was her face.

    "Hey there, sleeping beauty. Wakey, wakey," Iris chirped, her grin as infectious as ever.

    I groaned as I sat up, glancing around with a furrowed brow. "Aren''t I supposed to be in Althea until I regain consciousness? What am I doing in our room?"

    "Oh, I kidnapped you," Iris declared, flashing me a shameless smile.

    I raised an eyebrow, incredulous. "Seriously?"

    "Yep. The staff in Althea wouldn��t let me watch you sleep," she explained, her playful pout almost convincing.

    "They''re worried you might start biting me," I pointed out, amused.

    I lifted the plain white t-shirt I was wearing, inspecting the myriad of scars on my torso for her signature bite marks.

    "Wow. You actually restrained yourself," I remarked, genuinely impressed as I met her gaze.

    Iris smirked mischievously. "Of course, I can restrain myself. I was too busy watching you sleep. You look so cute, making all those adorable noises."

    I smirked back. "What can I say? Even in my sleep, I''m enchanting."

    She rolled her eyes playfully. "Sure, sure. You were so hot while asleep that I couldn��t resist kissing you."

    "Ah, that explains why my lips feel tingly," I said, a sly smile playing on my lips as I leaned forward, our gazes locking.

    "Looks like I��m still a bit asleep. Care to wake me up?" I teased, my tone low and inviting.

    Iris raised an eyebrow, her smirk mirroring mine. "Very smooth, Mordred. Very smooth."

    She chuckled softly, leaning in closer, her lips mere inches from mine.

    "But who said I wanted to wake you up?" she whispered in my ear, her words sending a shiver down my spine.

    Before I could respond, she closed the distance between us, her lips capturing mine in a kiss that was tender yet electrifying.

    She got me again.

 73 My Ancestor Did WHAT?

    "Artemis. Apologize to him."

    Ava stood firm, her hands planted on her hips, her tone brooking no argument.

    Artemis rolled her eyes, "Why should I apologize? He was gawking at the Captain when my Yoyo hit him."

    I interjected with a wave of my hand, "It''s alright, Ava. It was my fault."

    "See? Even he admits it," Artemis retorted, taking a casual sip of her smoothie.

    She paused mid-sip, and a frown crept onto her face.

    Putting the smoothie down, she swallowed hard, then narrowed her eyes toward the kitchen.

    "Apollo," she said calmly, her tone deceptively sweet, "will you stop taking away my sense of taste?"

    Apollo��s head popped out from the kitchen door, a mischievous grin plastered on his face. "Do you even have a sense of taste?" he teased.

    Artemis gave him a sweet look that screamed danger. "Do you want a taste of blood in your mouth?"

    She clenched her fist in warning, her Yoyo spinning lazily in the other hand.

    He rolled his eyes and shrugged. "Fine."

    With a snap of his fingers, he disappeared back into the kitchen, his retreat punctuated by a loud yelp of pain.

    "Ow! That bloody hurts! Stupid penalty!" his voice echoed from the kitchen.

    "He deserved it for messing around with his stigma," Artemis commented, unfazed by her brother''s outburst. She took another sip of her smoothie, a satisfied smile gracing her lips.

    "Ah, much better.", she sighed contentedly.

    Ava glanced anxiously toward the kitchen. "Is he going to be okay?"

    "Don''t worry. Basil is there with him. He''ll be fine," I reassured her, though I couldn��t help but think about Apollo''s stigma.

    Senses Devoid.

    It allowed him to strip one of his opponent''s senses for a chosen period.

    But the catch? He��d endure the same deprivation and agonizing pain afterward.

    For instance, if he deprived me of sight for five minutes, he��d suffer the same blindness and excruciating eye pain for the same duration once the stigma deactivated

    Yeah, quite the troublesome stigma.

    Ava looked at me with an amused smile. "Looks like Apollo is quite close to your mechanima."

    "I''m not surprised," Artemis chimed in, casually flicking her Yoyo in a playful loop. "Apollo used to play with snakes as a kid."

    We exchanged bemused glances. "Sounds like quite the adventurous childhood," I commented.

    "Oh, I was the normal one," Artemis shrugged, effortlessly discarding her empty smoothie cup into the nearby bin.

    She gave her Yoyo another spin, the metallic hum filling the room.

    "Hey, could someone lend me a tongue for tasting over here?" Apollo��s voice drifted out from the kitchen, followed by Basil��s mechanical hiss.

    "I''ll go," Ava volunteered, making her way to the kitchen.

    In case you''re wondering, we Lunatics are currently in our camp.

    Each Deathwalker unit has its own designated area within the Shield, known as a camp.

    The size and amenities of these camps depend on the squad''s status, and as Squad 21, we��ve got the best one.

    Yeah. We are the best even without a majority of our members.

    Our camp sits on the 47th floor of the Shield, resembling a massive penthouse.

    It boasts a spacious lounge area, a fully stocked and advanced kitchen, an indoor swimming pool, and state-of-the-art entertainment systems.

    Many will be wondering this.

    Since half of the Deathwalkers are criminals, do criminals deserve such luxury?

    Yes. Think of these luxuries as similar to the last meals requested by death row inmates.

    None of us know whether we''ll survive the next hour here in Blood Valley.

    Deathwalkers die by the hundreds every day to keep the world safe.

    Providing us with luxury like this is the least the world can do for us, even if we are seen as monsters by the general public.

    But the camps are not all about luxury.

    We also have a simulation room, a gym, an arsenal, and a sparring court, along with a control center directly linked to Minerva.

    Additionally, we have a workshop for quick equipment fixes, and the camp serves as the home for our mechanima.

    So yeah. That is the camp.

    "INCOMING!" Krystal''s voice rang out, just as Carlo came flying out of the sparring court entrance, hurtling straight toward me.

    Reacting instinctively, I grabbed Artemis by the collar and leaped away just as the young Devereux crashed into the sitting area, shattering the glass coffee table in a spectacular spray of shards.

    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    "Ow," Carlo groaned, gingerly maneuvering himself amidst the wreckage, his obsidian-black hair tousled and singed at the red tips.

    "Dude. You okay?" I asked, approaching him with Artemis in tow.

    Carlo clenched his teeth, shooting me a pointed glare. "Just peachy. Thanks for the concern, vice cap."

    Iris bounced over from the sparring court, a bright grin lighting up her features. Dressed in a red tank top and shorts, a jacket tied around her waist, she exuded boundless energy.

    "That was a blast!" she exclaimed, seemingly unfazed by the chaos around her.

    "You''ve got a peculiar sense of enjoyment," Artemis quipped.

    Iris shrugged nonchalantly. "Hey, I wanted to gauge Carlo''s progress."

    Extending her hand, she helped Carlo to his feet. "And I must say, you��ve definitely stepped up your game."

    "Getting my ass whupped by you in five minutes is an improvement?" Carlo asked, his frown deepening.

    Iris flashed him a grin and gave his back a friendly pat. "Hey, you lasted five whole minutes against me. That''s worthy of recognition."

    Carlo rolled his eyes, "Well, I feel truly honored."

    Turning to me, Iris asked, "Ready to go, love?"

    I nodded, "Yep. I was waiting for you."

    "Where are you two off to?" Ava asked, emerging from the kitchen, holding a tray of burgers.

    "The library. Mordred has developed a sudden curiosity for his family tree," Iris replied, snatching a mouthwatering burger from the tray with a black tentacle of darkness.

    Artemis raised an incredulous eyebrow at me. "Seriously? You��re just now getting curious about your family tree?"

    I flashed her a sheepish grin, and Iris let out a chuckle.

    "Oh, this is typical of Mordred. There was this one time he suddenly wanted to dissect a wraith in the middle of battle."

    Iris recounted with a shudder, "It was quite the effort to pry him away from the still-alive and pinned wraith while he dissected the thing. That was the first and only time I ever felt sorry for a wraith."

    The rest of the group turned their attention to me, their expressions a mix of amusement and concern.

    "Guys. From now on let��s not make the vice-captain curious. Like, ever," Apollo remarked, his voice laced with genuine unease.

    "Great. I��ve lost my appetite," Carlo sighed, shooting a glance at Iris. "You better take him to the library, Captain."

    Iris nodded. "Yep."

    She handed me a burger from the tray before we made our way to the camp''s main entrance.

    "Oh! And no making out in the library!" Ava called out to us.

    "What are you, our mother?" I grumbled in response.

    "More like an older sister!" she retorted.

    Iris waved a hand behind her as we hurried out, "Don''t worry, Ava! We''ll try to behave!"

    "That''s definitely not reassuring!"

    Before we could hear any more from her, I and Iris booked it out of the camp.

    *******

    "Ah yes! Found it!"

    Iris''s eyes gleamed with excitement as she descended from the ladder, holding a hefty tome bound in crimson leather.

    The library around us was bathed in the soft, white glow of the light panels in the ceiling.

    The scent of old tomes, records, old recipes and many more mixed with freshly printed pages of modern novels, textbooks, and guides lingered in the air.

    The towering, sleek, and ergonomically designed shelves seemed to close in around us as if they too were interested in listening to the things we are about to learn.

    The silver embossing on the cover of the tome spelled out its purpose plainly:

    The Book Of Lineages

    "That''s quite direct," I remarked.

    She nodded, her gaze fixed on the book, "Indeed. It contains details not only about the Royal Family but also the lineage of other prominent noble families."

    We settled into comfortable seats in a secluded corner of the library and she opened the book, tracing her slender finger across the index.

    Her eyes lit up. "Ah! Pendragon."

    She flipped to that page, and we began reading side by side.

    "Hm. Your father''s lineage is ancient indeed, tracing back to Liyr the Dragon Tamer," she remarked, breaking the silence.

    "The Dragon Tamer?" I echoed, arching an eyebrow in surprise.

    Dragons in this universe are very different from the ones on Earth.

    They were not the glorified winged lizards of my past life, known for belching out fire and poison.

    No, the dragons here are among the most powerful beings in existence, and their power is on par or even greater than the Incarni.

    Yeah. They are a big deal, such that even some dragons are revered as gods.

    The idea of a Dragon Tamer was both fascinating and perplexing.

    "By Tamer, you mean?" I asked, my curiosity piqued

    "Yes, the Dragon Tamer," Iris confirmed with a nod, though her expression held a touch of amusement and awkwardness.

    "Legend has it that Liyr was the first to tame a dragon and... well, have sex with it."

    I blinked, momentarily stunned, "What?"

    She nodded again, this time a faint blush creeping up her cheeks as she continued, "Indeed. Some dragons are said to possess the ability to assume human form."

    "Liyr''s union with such a dragon is believed to have given rise to your bloodline."

    "Oh," I muttered, quickly calming my wild imagination.

    The thought was bizarre, yet somehow fascinating. "I guess that��s where the ''dragon'' part of Pendragon came from."

    "Indeed," Iris nodded, still blushing.

    "And they had a son. Bran, the first dragon half-blood. A powerful conqueror who..." I flipped the page and whistled.

    "Oooh. Brought the world under his feet."

    Iris chuckled, her eyes sparkling with mischief, "Impressive lineage you''ve got there. From Bran conquering the world to your father becoming a being on par with the gods."

    "And then there��s you and Elaine," she added, a smirk playing on her lips. "A Failed Prince who became a Deathwalker and a snobby princess."

    I rolled my eyes. "Oh, shut up. Morgan and Gawain are holding down the fort just fine."

    "Also," I tapped the area beside mine and Elaine''s names on the family tree list.

    "I and that prick Elaine are no longer the latest Pendragons."

    Iris��s eyes brightened, and she leaned in closer, "Ah yes! This book is now outdated. It should be updated."

    "Isn''t it right? Big brother?" she teased with a mischievous smile, her gaze making my heart skip a beat.

    I blushed and rubbed my neck sheepishly, "Heh. That sounds good."

    "Anyway," I quickly refocused on the book. "I need to see my mother''s lineage. I''m more interested in that than the High King''s."

    Iris chuckled. "Alright, alright. Calm down, mama''s boy."

    We flipped the page to my mother''s lineage and pored through the names and information.

    At first, I was immensely relieved to see that my mother and the High King were not related at all.

    Yeah. I still had that anxiety. I even had weird nightmares due to that.

    I let out a breath I didn��t realize I was holding.

    But I must say. We were quite surprised by what we learned.

    "Well, this is interesting," I remarked.

    "Indeed," Iris agreed and looked at me.

    "You have a remarkable family history."

 74 Lore Time!

    "Looks like High Queen Morgause had a rather bloody ancestor,"

    Iris remarked, her eyes scanning the intricate details of the family tree.

    "More like blood-sucking," I replied, my gaze fixed on the name at the top of my mother''s family tree.

    The Vampire of the Purple Rose.

    The term "vampire" caught my attention.

    In this universe, a myriad of nonhuman beings such as elves, fairies, dwarves, vampires, and countless other races coexist.

    These nonhuman entities are known as Otherworlders, as they originate from distant planets beyond our own.

    Allow me to elaborate, dear readers.

    Eons ago, Asteris was connected to various planets through a celestial bridge of sorts, allowing inhabitants from these interconnected worlds to traverse from one planet to another.

    The Leprechauns��comprising elves, fairies, pixies, orcs, and other pointy-eared races��were among the first to set foot on Asteris.

    They were soon joined by dwarves, Demi-beasts, giants, and even the formidable god-like dragons.

    This interplanetary exchange fostered cultural diversity and facilitated trade, ushering in an era known as the Age of Prosperity, which stood as the pinnacle of Asteris''s history for millennia.

    Then, one fateful day, an event occurred that altered the course of history.

    The celestial bridge that connected the worlds suddenly collapsed, abruptly ending the Age of Prosperity and leaving many Otherworlders stranded on Asteris, while numerous humans found themselves marooned on distant planets.

    This catastrophic and enigmatic occurrence came to be known as the Great Collapse.

    No explanation has been presented so far, and it remains a subject of intense study and debate.

    Seeing that they could never return home, the Otherworlders decided to make Asteris their new home, many gathering together and forming nations.

    The Leprechauns now inhabit a large group of islands in the middle of the great Gregoris Ocean off the southern coast of the Kingdom.

    Meanwhile, the dwarves, leveraging their advanced technological and crafting skills, constructed an extraordinary underwater nation named Atlanto, situated within the depths of the Krokesis Sea between the continents of Aria and Edith.

    Atlanto is currently regarded as the most technologically advanced nation in the world.

    But the most impressive feat belonged to the Giants.

    Legend has it that these towering beings, harnessing their unparalleled strength, heaved a colossal chunk of the planet''s crust skyward.

    With massive chains and formidable ardor, they anchored this landmass high in the heavens, giving rise to the breathtaking sky nation known as Jotunis.

    As for the dragons, being akin to deities, they possessed the ability to traverse between planets effortlessly, rendering the collapsed celestial bridge inconsequential.

    Consequently, many of these majestic creatures departed Asteris for their native realms.

    However, a handful of dragons, enamored with our world, chose to remain on Asteris, dwelling in remote corners of the land, where they still reside to this day.

    Despite now residing in separate nations, the Otherworlders maintain amicable relations among themselves and with humans.

    Intriguingly, some Otherworlders have forged unions with humans, resulting in the birth of half-bloods.

    These individuals possess exceptional strength, yet they are exceedingly rare.

    Given that the Otherworlders have established their own nations, nonhumans are quite rare in the three continents.

    Vampires are a unique case.

    They are a race of elevated humanity, relying on blood consumption to sustain themselves.

    However, this macabre dietary necessity has rendered them somewhat ostracized even among Otherworlders.

    Yet, it wasn''t merely their thirst for blood that set them apart from the rest.

    What truly distinguished them was the profound animosity harbored by their Queen towards humans and humanoid races alike.

    During the Age of Prosperity, the vampires maintained an isolated existence, refraining from engaging with humans and Otherworlders.

    Those who did arrive on Asteris were often refugees fleeing the Queen''s wrath.

    Following the Great Collapse, only a handful of vampires remained on Asteris.

    Owing to their remarkably extended lifespans, many endure to this day, dwelling in the shadowy recesses of the world where sunlight seldom reaches, such as the secluded island of Nyxios, renowned for its Moonsilver.

    Presently, most vampires sustain themselves through the blood of ardimals and voluntary blood donations, with only a minority engaging in predatory behavior, particularly targeting elves, fairies, and humans.

    And it seems my mother was a descendant of one such vampire.

    "Fancy title. But there��s no name," I observed, furrowing my brows as I searched for further information about this mysterious figure.

    Iris''s expression shifted to one of disbelief. "You don��t know the Vampire of the Purple Rose?"

    I shook my head, feeling a twinge of curiosity. "Is it someone important?"

    Iris sighed, her tone tinged with amusement. "Oh, Incarni. Have you ever delved into vampire mythology?"

    I shook my head. "There were no books about that in the Dawn Palace. Besides, vampires have their own mythology?"

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    She nodded, "Yes, they do. Let me enlighten you, dear Mordred."

    "According to the legends passed down by vampire refugees, the Vampire of the Purple Rose is revered as the progenitor of their kind. She bestowed the gift of vampirism upon the first vampire��their Queen," Iris began, her voice taking on a captivating tone.

    I arched an eyebrow, intrigued. "Their Queen? Was she born a vampire?"

    "No," Iris continued. "The Queen��s origins are shrouded in mystery, but it��s clear she was once human. Legend has it that she encountered a being from another universe."

    "A vampire from beyond."

    "An extra-dimensional vampire. Fascinating," I mused aloud, my mind racing with possibilities.

    Was I not the only one from beyond this world?

    "Exactly," Iris confirmed, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "The encounter transformed the girl into the first vampire, a powerful being forever cursed with an insatiable thirst for blood."

    I winced. "Yikes."

    "Let��s save the discussion about the Queen for another day. For now, let��s focus on the Vampire of the Purple Rose, also known as the Progenitor," Iris suggested, her tone more serious.

    "As the myth goes, when the girl destined to become the Queen crossed paths with the mysterious Progenitor, she made a curious observation. The woman was with child."

    Iris continued, tapping the page displaying my mother''s family tree. "This list leads to only one conclusion."

    "Your mother, Gawain, and you are descendants of this vampire deity," she declared.

    "So that means��" I trailed off, staring at my hand as I forced a drop of blood to the surface, "Vampiric blood courses through my veins?"

    Iris''s gaze fixed on the droplet, her expression contemplative. "And not just any vampiric blood. Since the Progenitor hails from another dimension, she possesses qualities that set her apart from vampires in our universe."

    "She doesn��t rely on blood for sustenance. To her, consuming blood is akin to drinking fresh fruit juice or wine, a mere refreshment."

    "And her power is unparalleled. It''s whispered that the Queen rivals the Crowns and stands shoulder to shoulder with the Incarni."

    "The Vampire of the Purple Rose may well be a force surpassing even the Incarni," Iris concluded with a hint of awe in her voice.

    "So to put it in a nutshell, the Progenitor is far superior to even the Queen," I surmised.

    "Exactly," Iris nodded. "And here��s the fascinating part: descendants of the Progenitor��s child possess the potential to awaken their vampire deity bloodline, regardless of where they stand on the family tree."

    I stared at her in amazement. "How do you even know all this?"

    Iris swept her hand toward the towering shelves of the library. "I practically lived here during my first year and there are tons of records about vampire mythology in here."

    "Huh." Somehow, she has become even more beautiful in my eyes.

    Like the old Mordred of this world, she spent a lot of time in a library, absorbing all it had to offer.

    We really are similar. That thought brought a smile to my face.

    I raised an intrigued eyebrow. "So, does that mean I could become a vampire whenever I choose?"

    "Theoretically, yes," she affirmed, sounding a little excited.

    I leaned in closer to Iris, a mischievous grin spreading across my face. "If that��s the case, perhaps I��ll have more reason to indulge in biting your neck."

    She returned the smirk, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "Why not turn me into a vampire as well? After all, shouldn��t we both relish the perks?"

    "And like I said before, your blood tastes amazing," she whispered.

    "Quite vampiric words for a human," I murmured as Iris leaned in closer, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

    Our lips were tantalizingly close, the air thick with anticipation when a stern voice caused us to jump.

    "Oi. No making out in the library."

    We quickly pulled away from each other, turning to see the librarian Deathwalker looking at us with a raised eyebrow.

    "Really, guys? In the library with a book between you two? Isn��t that kind of clich��?" he asked, giving us a bemused expression.

    Iris stuck out her tongue playfully. "Oops."

    The Deathwalker sighed. "Well, you two aren��t the only ones. Just yesterday, I caught Fred and his girl going all out in the dark romance section."

    Iris''s face turned red, and she stammered. "All out?"

    I whistled. "Must��ve been quite the show for Minerva."

    The librarian nodded. "You bet it was."

    "I got an earful from her and my captain," he added with a shudder.

    "Oof, man. Don��t worry. We��ll be good readers," I reassured him.

    "He��s right. We��ll be well-behaved," Iris supported me.

    The Deathwalker looked at us and shrugged. "Alright then. I��ll be off."

    With an exasperated sigh, he turned around and went back to his duties, muttering, "Kids these days."

    "Talking like an old man in his twenties? Being a librarian must be tough," Iris remarked.

    I nodded, a smirk playing on my lips. "Yeah, but at least he gets to keep us on our toes."

    "But that is odd," she frowned, looking at my mother''s name and tapping her finger beside it thoughtfully. "I was sure there was another name besides your mother''s."

    "You��ve read this before?" I asked.

    "When I was young," she responded softly, a shadow crossing her features as she recalled distant memories.

    Her expression grew troubled. "That��s odd. I distinctly remember reading an older version of this book, one with an additional name listed beside your mother��s."

    I regarded her with concern. "But you have read it?"

    Iris nodded slowly, her gaze distant. "I believe so. However, I can��t seem to recall the details."

    A twinge of worry crept into my voice. "Could this be a case of amnesia?"

    Her blue eyes had a distant look in them as she pondered. "Now that I think about it, I��ve struggled to remember many aspects of my past, particularly the year before I became a Deathwalker. It��s as though my memories are fragmented, incomplete."

    "I remember bits and pieces," she continued, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "Like the faint recollection of encountering an older version of this book."

    Squeezing her hand gently, I voiced my concern. "Are you alright, Iris? Your memory hasn��t been this foggy before."

    "There have always been gaps in my memory, even when we first met. But I never deemed them significant enough to address," she replied and gave a reassuring smile.

    "Besides, most of the forgotten memories pertain to the dreadful times I endured at the Karsus Estate. I never longed to revisit those memories, so I never dwelled on their absence. Perhaps that��s why I never noticed the gaps until now."

    She chuckled gleefully. "I guess you could say that this is a blessing in disguise."

    Despite my concerns, I smiled back. "Yeah, but still, we need to get that checked."

    "Fine, Dad," she rolled her eyes.

    I scowled and grabbed her ear. "You stupid maniac. Try to have at least a bit of self-preservation."

    "Ow! Ow! Stop it! Fine! I��ll ask Casper to look into it," she exclaimed, leading me to let go of her ear.

    She rubbed her reddened ear and grumbled. "I��ll get you back for this."

    I chuckled. "I��ll look forward to it, love."

    I then refocused on my mother��s name. "So, are you saying my mum has a sibling?"

    Iris nodded. "Seems like it."

    "I never learned anything about this," I said and frowned. "Perhaps Gawain has some idea."

    Suddenly, my eyes widened as I remembered something.

    I immediately took out my phone and opened my calendar.

    "Ah, fuck," I swore.

    "What is it?" Iris asked, leaning closer to have a peek.

    I looked at her with a sheepish expression. "Gawain��s coming for a visit, and I totally forgot about it."

 75 Cornered

    "How can you forget something so important?" Iris inquired as we strolled back to camp from the library.

    "I got sidetracked with everything else, alright?" I responded with a sigh. "Between dealing with daemons, training, and overseeing the unit..."

    "And a lot of making out," Iris interjected with a sly grin.

    I gave her a playful shove. "Yeah, that too."

    She smirked, satisfied with my reaction. "So, when is he arriving?" she asked, giving me a knowing look.

    "Tomorrow. Though I''m not sure of the exact time," I replied, furrowing my brow as I tapped my earbud. "Minerva, what time is Gawain expected tomorrow?"

    "Late morning," the AI responded. "But there''s something else."

    "Oh? Is he bringing gifts?" I raised an eyebrow, half-joking.

    "No, nothing like that. I just received a message from Ace," Minerva''s usually composed voice carried a hint of annoyance, as if mentioning her twin left a bad taste in her digital mouth. "The High Queen will be accompanying High Prince Gawain."

    "Guinevere? Why?" I asked, taken aback.

    "I haven''t gotten the reason, and I am not obliged to ask that annoying floppy disc," Minerva replied, her tone chilly.

    I sighed. "Honestly, Minerva, Ace is your sister."

    "And an incredibly annoying one at that."

    "Fine," I relented, ending the conversation.

    Iris shook her head with a knowing smile. "Minerva could really use a vacation. But I get where she''s coming from. Ace gets all the fun��adventures with Merlin��while Minerva''s stuck here, overseeing criminals and dealing with horny teenagers, sending them off to their deaths."

    "Merlin''s a real piece of work," I muttered.

    "Absolutely. It��s no wonder Minerva��s a bit cantankerous and cold," Iris replied, her tone lightening.

    I looked at her, impressed. "Cantankerous? Impressive vocabulary."

    She winked at me. "I''m a bloody genius, okay?"

    "Of course you are," I said, rolling my eyes.

    She chuckled and said. "Anyway, the High Queen��s up for a visit? No wonder the Commander��s been tidying up his office."

    "And what about you?" Iris turned to me, her expression softening. "How do you feel about seeing your stepmother after all this time?"

    Her question caught me off guard. How would I feel seeing Guinevere?

    After all, she was one of the few who had shown kindness to the old Mordred.

    After Morgause passed away, Guinevere stepped in to care for her best friend''s children, including the outcast Mordred.

    She even sneaked into the Dawn Palace to nurse baby Mordred after putting her own child, Elaine, to sleep.

    Yeah. She is an awesome person in my eyes. The High King should take some notes on parenting from her.

    Now, dear readers, Guinevere may be a benevolent queen, cherished by the people of the Kingdom, but her kindness should never be mistaken for weakness.

    Through my fragmented memories and the knowledge I��ve gleaned about this world, I��ve understood that Guinevere''s compassion is matched only by her ferocity in battle.

    She is one of the strongest Coders in the world after all.

    My mother, Morgause, was a powerful sword master whose blood thirst was even greater than Guinevere''s.

    Together, they were a fierce duo on the battlefield, renowned as the Mad Warmaidens.

    Yep. My mother and Guinevere were badasses.

    But there��s something weird. Mordred only ever addressed Guinevere by her name, no familial title like "aunt."

    So how should I address her?

    Calling her by her name feels too personal, too awkward, especially given our... weird history.

    Yeah, in my past life, Guinevere temporarily became my wife when I assumed the throne. And she was still my aunt in that world.

    Now I��m feeling incredibly uncomfortable.

    I shook my head, snapping back to the present. "I have no idea."

    Iris grinned, "Better start thinking, then. You''ve got all night." She tilted her head thoughtfully. "Oh yes, aren��t we supposed to welcome the new recruits tomorrow?"

    I nodded, frowning. "But that��s the about the time Gawain and the High Queen are arriving. I won��t be able to see them."

    "Oh, you��ll see them," Iris stopped in front of me, locking eyes with mine. "I��ll take care of the recruits. You go meet up with your family."

    "Are you sure?" I gazed into her sparkling blue eyes, searching for any sign of hesitation.

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    "I''ll assign another Deathwalker to handle the male recruits, but I��ll personally greet and discipline the recruits at the entrance," she assured me.

    She shrugged, adding with a wry smile, "As you know, my familial situation is one big steaming pile of dragon poo. I don''t want anyone else to experience the same difficulties."

    I stared at her, surprised by her sudden understanding. "Since when did you become so compassionate?"

    That remark earned me a punch to the gut.

    "Oh, shut it," Iris retorted, turning on her heel and striding ahead.

    "Come on, Mordred! We��ve got a simulation session scheduled for this afternoon," she called over her shoulder.

    Rubbing my aching stomach, I caught up to her. "Ow. I swear, I��m going to cleave you in half."

    Iris smirked, "Oh, I��m going to enjoy the slaughter."

    I raised an eyebrow, cautioning her, "If you do manage to kill me, don��t do anything weird with my body, even in a simulation."

    She feigned shock. "You think I��m some kind of pervert?"

    "Of course you are," I deadpanned. "Just yesterday, I caught you sniffing my boxers."

    "I was just checking if they were properly cleaned!" she protested.

    "By burying your nose in them? That��s just gross," I retorted.

    "Fine! I��m a pervert! You happy?" she exclaimed, throwing up her hands and shooting me a glare.

    "You are so dead, Mordred."

    *******

    "Damn it! She''s too fast!" Ava cursed as we leaped from building to building, our gaze locked on the fleeting shadow darting through the labyrinthine streets of the abandoned city.

    "Stay focused, Ava. We still have eyes on her," I reassured her, bringing up the holographic map of the area.

    A rapidly moving dot on the map indicated the whereabouts of our quarry.

    I scanned the map as we raced across the rooftops of dilapidated buildings, their structures crumbling from years of neglect.

    This was just a simulation, but the stakes felt real.

    Krystal and Apollo ran ahead of me, utilizing their respective abilities to hasten our pursuit.

    To my left, Carlo crackled with crimson lightning, channeling Fulgur to enhance his speed.

    On my right, Artemis maneuvered with her Yoyo, propelling herself forward by flinging it toward nearby structures.

    Ava covered our rear, her claws glinting under the crimson sun peeking through the heavy clouds as she sprinted, relying solely on her physical prowess.

    "We could cut her off and box her in," Carlo suggested, his eyes fixed on the flickering shadow ahead.

    "But she can use shadow travel," Artemis pointed out, her tone calm despite the adrenaline pumping through us all.

    I shook my head. "Shadow traveling is highly taxing. She''s likely to save it for emergencies."

    Glancing at Carlo, I instructed, "You and Apollo, bring down the buildings around her. It''ll put pressure on her and restrict her movements."

    He nodded, relaying the plan to Apollo. "You heard that?"

    "Yep!" Apollo replied with a grin, "Let''s rattle the viper."

    With that, he and Carlo leaped off the building, heading straight for the streak of darkness that was Iris.

    "Ava. You and Krystal block her off. Use ice walls, buildings, anything," I instructed the young Baskerville behind me.

    "Got it!" Ava replied, leaping ahead to join Krystal.

    Releasing a powerful shockwave, they rushed ahead.

    Artemis and I halted at the edge of the rooftop, peering down at the street below.

    My gaze tracked the black streak darting along the road, effortlessly navigating obstacles with precision.

    "You think she is doing that on purpose or is it the power of her strand emanating from her?" Artemis asked, her voice tinged with admiration.

    I shrugged. "Well, she is boosting her speed with Tenebris. Plus, it makes her look cool."

    Artemis nodded in approval, "Yeah. She does look pretty cool."

    Just as she spoke, a deep rumbling filled the air, drawing our attention.

    As we watched, multiple buildings along the street began to crumble, cascading down like towering stacks of blocks.

    In the distance, I felt a surge of ardor and saw massive jagged walls of ice rising up between the buildings.

    Another surge of ardor, and I observed dilapidated structures collapsing, engulfed in silver flames.

    This wasn''t just about catching Iris. It was about controlling the battlefield, forcing her into a corner where her options would dwindle.

    "Looks like everyone has started," Artemis remarked, her golden eyes fixed on the buildings ablaze with silver flames.

    "Indeed," I agreed, casting a glance at her. "I guess we ambush her."

    "You. Not me," Artemis replied, striding toward the opposite edge of the building, which dropped into an alley below.

    "There''s a possibility that she might attempt to escape through the underground sewers or subway tunnels. I''ll handle that," she explained, then smoothly dropped down into the alley below without a sound.

    I sighed, knowing that while the plan was solid, Iris was anything but predictable.

    This was going to be a tough one.

    "I guess it''s up to me," I muttered, focusing on the task at hand.

    Lightning crackled, and chains clanked as Carlo and Apollo brought down buildings upon our quarry, who effortlessly stayed ahead of the falling debris and lightning strikes.

    As she neared the walls of ice and burning buildings on the road, it became apparent that Iris would soon run out of space to maneuver.

    Just as I was about to jump off the roof, a mechanical cry pierced the air.

    "I was wondering when you''d show up," I remarked as a mechanical falcon appeared in the sky above me.

    His silver feathers gleamed in the sunlight, and his glowing blue eyes locked onto mine.

    Perry was here.

    With another shrill cry, the falcon tucked in its wings and hurtled toward me.

    "Sorry, Perry. But I am not playing with you," I murmured, holding out my arm.

    The white Ouroboros bracelet adorning my wrist shimmered, its emerald green eyes glowing. With a hiss, the white snake unfurled its body and lunged toward the approaching mechanima in a flash.

    In a blur of motion, Basil expanded into her full form, her white metallic scales shimmering as she swiftly wrapped her elongated body around the silver falcon mechanima.

    A cacophony of cries and hisses filled the air as the two mechanima engaged in a fierce midair struggle, ultimately crashing into the opposite building.

    I winced at the sound of metal clashing. I know it''s a simulation but still, that noise keeps me on edge.

    A grin spread across my face as my gaze landed on Iris, her bright blue eyes and the bright blue ends of her black hair standing out even in the dim light of the simulation.

    Drawing my sword, I stepped to the edge of the roof and ran my finger along the sharp white blade with emerald edges.

    "Time to cleave you in half, love," I declared and jumped.

 76 You Better

    "Well. Fuck."

    I cursed as Iris transformed into a thick cloud of darkness the moment my sword sliced through her.

    A doppelganger. Not good at all.

    "Who''s cleaving who again?" Iris''s voice taunted from behind, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

    Before I could react, she materialized out of the lingering wisps of darkness, her legs wrapping around my torso, and the cold blade of her black dagger pressed against my cheek.

    "Surprise," her voice tickled my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

    "Doppelganger and a position switch," I guessed with a calm smile, "Very impressive."

    She giggled. "I know, right? It was fun seeing you guys chasing after that doppelganger."

    "Glad we entertained you," I smirked.

    Suddenly, a blood tentacle shot toward her eye. Instinctively, she moved her head to the side, narrowly avoiding the attack.

    The crystallized tip of the tentacle still managed to graze her ear, and she quickly jumped off my back.

    "Ooh, that was a close one," she remarked, touching her bleeding ear with a grin before disappearing into thin air.

    I shifted my sword to the right, deflecting a powerful strike from her dagger. She vanished again, reappearing behind me as if she had teleported.

    Without glancing back, my blood appendages shot toward her, blocking her continuous dagger slashes and counterattacking.

    "Looks like you''ve learned a new trick! Just a month ago, you couldn''t even sense my attacks," Iris remarked, appearing before me in a burst of darkness and jabbing at my face.

    I smiled as I parried the attack and immediately countered with a slash toward her stomach. The black and white blades clashed in a flurry of sparks as she blocked my strike.

    In the blink of an eye, a sharp appendage of solid darkness shot out from behind Iris, heading straight for my eyes.

    I swiftly sidestepped to avoid it, jumping back as it curved, following my movement with uncanny precision.

    A homing tentacle? When did she learn that?

    As I dodged the incoming attack, I caught a glint of metal from my right. Reacting instinctively, I raised my sword to block a ferocious strike from Iris aimed at my neck.

    The tip of the black appendage appeared in my peripheral vision as I exchanged deadly blows with Iris.

    Transcendence.

    Time seemed to slow around me, allowing me a moment to pause and react. Harnessing the power of Haema, six blood appendages materialized on my back and surged toward Iris.

    She clicked her tongue as she swiftly slashed through them, turning them into bloody ribbons.

    But I didn��t dwell on her reaction. With a flick of my wrist, I sliced through the approaching black tentacle, dispersing it into wisps of smoky darkness.

    My six appendages reformed, swaying with a life of their own as I turned to face Iris. She smirked, her eyes glinting with mischief, as six jagged appendages of darkness materialized behind her, each menacingly curving its pointed tips toward me.

    I raised my eyes and quipped, "A guy, a girl, and tentacles. Sounds like the beginning of a porno."

    "Or a smutty dark fantasy novel involving octopi," Iris retorted with a smirk, her tone teasing.

    I shrugged casually. "Or that. But it''s not right for us to enjoy it alone."

    As if on cue, buildings on both sides of the road collapsed in a storm of lightning and silver flames, effectively sealing off both ends.

    Artemis��s voice cut through the tension, "That was an odd comparison, Vice Cap," she remarked, her words accompanied by the sound of tough black threads enveloping Iris��s limbs and neck.

    "Huh?" Iris exclaimed in surprise as the wires tightened, pinning her in place.

    Artemis hopped beside me, her hand firmly clasped around her yoyo.

    "Underground recon, huh?" I raised my eyebrows at her. "This city has an overhead commuter train system."

    "Someone had to be in the shadows to strike at the best moment," she winked. "Plus, I brought reinforcements."

    The temperature suddenly dropped, and ice swiftly encased Iris��s lower body, further restricting her movements.

    I sensed multiple auras approaching, accompanied by the crackling of lightning and the roar of flames.

    Despite being restrained, Iris maintained her composure, flashing us a confident smile.

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    "This is going to be quite the spectacle," she remarked with glee.

    *******

    "Well. That was a bloody massacre."

    Iris remarked as she playfully skipped beside me.

    I scoffed, "More like crimes against humanity."

    "It wasn''t that bad," she defended.

    I stared at her incredulously, "Wasn''t that bad? Iris, you rammed a rod of darkness so far up Apollo''s rear that the tip came out of his mouth!"

    "He tried to skewer me with a water spear!" Iris countered.

    "Oh? And what about Krystal? You slow-cooked the lower half of her body with your black flames while slapping her in the face multiple times," I pointed out.

    "She froze me into the ground!"

    I sighed, shaking my head, "Goodness, you''re quite sadistic."

    Iris grinned mischievously, her eyes glinting as she gave a small shrug, "Of course I am. It''s a good thing Minerva significantly reduced the pain threshold."

    "That''s because she knows you," I replied, sighing once more as we made our way to the elevator.

    "That battle was a loss on both sides though," she pointed out.

    I nodded, "Yeah. We kind of cleaved each other in half."

    "Well, that was kind of exciting," Iris replied with a sly smile.

    I couldn''t help but roll my eyes, "Bloody weirdo."

    She grinned. "I am your bloody weirdo."

    "Yes you are," I replied with a chuckle.

    Anyway. Enough of Iris''s brutal tendencies.

    Today was the day of Gawain''s and Guinevere''s visit, and Kay had instructed me to arrive at one of the side entrances of the Shield.

    Given the potential commotion their arrival could cause, they wouldn''t be entering through the main entrance.

    Most Deathwalkers weren''t even aware that members of the Royal Family were coming.

    According to Minerva, they would be escorted to Kay''s office via a private corridor, and then to a restaurant booked for the entire day.

    As we reached the ground floor, we stood before a painting depicting a battle between an ancient knight in gold armor and a dragon.

    Without making a single sound, the painting sank into the wall with an eerie smoothness, revealing another corridor.

    "This place never ceases to amaze me," I remarked as we entered the corridor.

    It was well-lit, with a soft purple carpet and light panels depicting a golden sunrise sky along with more ornate paintings.

    "So this is the rumored Royal Corridor," I mused as we turned right and made our way to the double doors at the end of the corridor.

    "I bet there are a lot more places like this," I remarked as we reached the double doors.

    Iris nodded in agreement, "Indeed. The Shield has its many secrets."

    Glancing at her curiously, I asked, "By the way. Why are you here? Aren''t you supposed to be welcoming newbies?"

    "Yes, I will be, but first, the High Queen requested to see me," she explained.

    I raised an eyebrow in surprise, "Whoa. Why?"

    With a sheepish smile, Iris revealed, "Well, I suppose it''s because I''m somewhat like the foster daughter of the Commander."

    I blinked and stared at her, "What?"

    "It''s unofficial, and he told me not to reveal it too much. The Commander became my legal guardian after he learned of my unique circumstances," Iris explained.

    "Huh. I guess that explains why he always has that fatherly vibe whenever he''s with you," I replied, a thoughtful tone creeping into my voice.

    "And perhaps why he glares at me whenever he catches us together," I added, a realization dawning on me.

    Iris nodded knowingly. "Precisely. After all, we are dating. Plus, we are quite the troublemakers."

    "Are you two going to stand there like decorative statues, or are you coming in?" Kay''s voice interrupted from behind the doors.

    That guy has good senses.

    Oh. Did he hear the conversation we just had?

    Shit.

    With a playful grin, Iris stuck out her tongue at me, "Oops."

    This girl...

    She pushed the door open, and we entered a rather lavish lounge area.

    The room was filled with simple yet luxurious furniture, the kind that invited sinking into.

    Kay reclined on a couch, exuding an air of authority in his resplendent grey suit. His salt and pepper hair was now longer, and he even had a beard, making him look more regal and intimidating.

    His piercing blue eyes gazed at us knowingly, and I knew he had overheard our conversation.

    "I assume you heard everything?" I ventured, trying to keep my tone light.

    He simply nodded in response.

    "So it''s true, then?" I sought confirmation.

    Another nod followed.

    Feeling a mix of nerves and determination, I pledged, "I''ll do everything in my power to make her happy, sir."

    Kay grunted in acknowledgment, "You better."

    Iris sighed, touching my arm lightly as if to diffuse the tension, "Did you really have to pull that, Commander?"

    "Of course. You''re dating my nephew, who can be quite the handful," Kay replied calmly.

    Even after three years, Kay''s imposing presence still managed to unnerve me. Despite all these years, something about Kay��s presence still made the air feel heavier.

    Though our relationship had evolved considerably during that time, his stern gaze never failed to command respect.

    Surprisingly, he had even taken an interest in refining my already proficient swordsmanship, which greatly surprised and impressed him.

    My swordsmanship intrigued him so much that he asked me to show him a few moves.

    In the end, Kay is the very strict but supportive uncle we all have.

    I looked at him, "So. When are they arriving?"

    Kay looked at his watch and leaned in casually on the couch.

    "Right about now."

    As if on cue, the double doors on the opposite side of the room burst open, and Queen Guinevere strode in with a radiant smile.

    "Hey hey, Kay! It''s been some time, Commander Grouch!"

    Her sparkling blue eyes immediately found me, and she pounced without hesitation.

    "Mordred! Come here!"

 77 Mother...

    I struggled to catch my breath.

    Why?

    Well, when Queen Guinevere pulls you into a tight hug, burying your face in her chest, breathing becomes quite the challenge.

    At that moment, I found myself torn between enjoying the embrace and fighting off a sense of panic.

    By the Incarni! She was bloody strong! Try as I might, I couldn''t break free from her hold.

    "You''ve grown taller, Mordred!" Guinevere exclaimed, playfully tousling my hair. "And you''ve become quite the beauty. For a moment, I almost mistook you for a girl!"

    I attempted to respond but found it difficult with my air supply restricted.

    My thoughts were drifting between the discomfort and the realization that the High Queen was rather... well-endowed. Not too big, definitely not small��just the right size.

    No wonder the Lancelot of my old world was infatuated with Guinevere.

    "Mother, please let him go. You''re suffocating him," a very familiar voice interjected from behind us.

    "Oh, I think he''s enjoying it," Guinevere quipped.

    I tried to protest, but the lack of oxygen was making me feel lightheaded. Not good.

    "Release him, Your Majesty. He''s one of my best Deathwalkers," Kay''s authoritative voice chimed in.

    After what felt like an eternity, during which I was perilously close to losing consciousness, she finally released me from her embrace.

    "Sorry about that, Mordred. But it was so good to see you again!" Guinevere explained with a warm smile.

    Taking a moment to catch my breath, I managed to croak out a response, "It''s fine. I understand."

    Activating my strand, I accelerated my blood to give me a much-needed boost, allowing me to stand straight and compose myself before our guests.

    Guinevere stood before me, dressed casually yet elegantly in a brown sweater with full ruffled sleeves, paired with grey pants and brown boots.

    Her outfit accentuated her athletic and well-endowed figure, while her long hair cascaded down her shoulders like a golden waterfall.

    Cross-shaped silver earrings dangled from her ears, while a black choker adorned her neck.

    Damn. She looked like an older and more mature version of Elaine.

    Known as the most beautiful woman in the Kingdom, Guinevere''s beauty was unparalleled, rivaled only by my mother, Morgause.

    Despite appearing to be in her twenties, this woman is actually in her forties. Her body is in perfect harmony with ardor, which naturally keeps her youthful appearance.

    Standing just behind her, dressed casually yet stylishly in a collared t-shirt and jeans, was Gawain.

    Three years had brought about noticeable changes in him. He had grown taller, and his features had become sharper.

    His jet-black hair, now longer and slightly unkempt, reached down to his neck. I even caught a glimpse of tattoos on his arms and one peeking out from his collar.

    Yet, amidst these changes, his emerald green eyes remained unchanged, still sparkling with the same kindness and mischief as always.

    He smiled warmly at me, "Hey Red. Sorry, it took so long."

    Guinevere stepped aside with a smile as I approached Gawain and embraced him.

    "You could''ve visited sooner, you jerk," I said, my voice almost cracking.

    "Sorry," he apologized again, his tone sincere, "Rebuilding a nation took longer than I thought."

    Yep. You heard it right, readers.

    Soon after I was assigned to the Shield, the High King tasked Gawain with assisting in the rebuilding efforts of a neighboring small island nation that had recently undergone a civil war.

    As the highly capable High Prince that he was, Gawain successfully led the nation''s recovery efforts, bringing it back to stability in just three years.

    Just bloody crazy. That''s how capable Gawain is.

    Sure, we kept in contact with each other, but due to the communication restrictions in the Shield, we rarely conversed.

    "I wish Morg could see this," Guinevere remarked, her blue eyes filled with melancholic happiness.

    I let go of Gawain and turned to her, nodding my head, feeling a wave of emotions that I hadn��t expected. "Mother�� it��s been some time. You look as beautiful as ever."

    A shocked silence followed my words as everyone stared at me. I looked at Guinevere��s shocked face as she processed what she had just heard.

    "Mother?" she blurted out, looking at Gawain. "Did he just call me mother?"

    Gawain smiled and nodded.

    Guinevere��s face morphed from shock to pure, unfiltered joy, her eyes shimmering as if a long-held dream had finally come true.

    Swift as lightning, she pounced on me for another hug, tears of happiness brimming in her eyes as she pressed my face against her soft bosom.

    "I��ve always wished to hear you call me that. I guess I��ve finally earned the right," she murmured, hugging me closely.

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    I smiled and hugged her back.

    Like I said, Guinevere was one of the very few who showed kindness to Mordred and treated him well. Sure, she wasn��t always there, but she tried her best.

    The final vestiges of the old Mordred��s soul agreed with my decision to call her mother.

    It felt right like a piece of my fractured past finally fitting into place.

    After everything she had done for me and Gawain, she deserved to be called that.

    She really is the mother who stepped up.

    *******

    "Looks like you were enjoying the High Queen''s embrace."

    Iris remarked with a dangerous smile, her eyes regarding me with murderous intent.

    I swallowed nervously. "It''s not like I asked for it. She practically smothered me," I defended, feeling the need to explain myself.

    "And yet you seemed oddly comfortable," she pointed out, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

    I raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at my lips. "Don''t tell me. Are you jealous?"

    "Am I jealous?" Iris glanced at her own chest, perfect for her slim figure, then at the smiling High Queen.

    Her voice was calm, but there was a sharp edge to it. "Indeed I am."

    Guinevere chuckled, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Their banter reminds me of your mum and Arthur," she remarked to Gawain.

    Gawain rolled his eyes. "Mother, you''re the reason they''re bickering in the first place."

    "I was merely showing him affection," the High Queen protested, her expression sincere.

    "Oh, of course you were, Your Majesty," Iris interjected, her sarcasm barely concealed.

    I couldn��t help but marvel at Iris��s audacity. She��s being sassy with the bloody High Queen!

    Guinevere seemed to take it in stride, her smirk widening. "Still as feisty as ever, Iris," she remarked.

    Iris shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, I have changed a bit. Six years is a long time, Your Majesty."

    I looked between the two ladies, puzzled. "You know each other?"

    They nodded simultaneously.

    "We kind of stumbled into each other about six years ago," Iris explained.

    "Indeed," Guinevere confirmed. "Arthur had a meeting with Duke Karsus, and I tagged along."

    The mention of her father made Iris��s eyes darken, and her fists clenched at her sides. I could feel the tension building.

    I quickly placed my hand on hers, squeezing gently. "Calm down. Don��t start zapping everyone with your black bolts."

    Guinevere winced sympathetically. "Sorry about that. It seems like your father is still a sore subject for you."

    "Of course," Iris nodded, her voice low but steady. "Some things don��t easily fade away, Your Majesty."

    "I understand," Guinevere replied, her tone softening before continuing. "I was getting quite bored of the formal discussions and went for a stroll around the estate."

    Her blue eyes fell on Iris, and the memory seemed to pull her back. "And that��s when I stumbled into you. A small ten-year-old girl covered in blood and bruises."

    The room went silent, the weight of her words settling over us like a dark cloud. Iris tightened her grip around my wrist, her usually composed expression faltering for a brief moment.

    "What?" I asked, my voice dangerously low as the image of a bloodied, ten-year-old Iris flashed in my mind. "What the hell happened?"

    "I had just finished a sparring session with my brothers," Iris explained, her tone calm but tinged with a hint of old pain. "Her Majesty discovered me as I was on my way back to the attic."

    Guinevere nodded somberly, recalling the encounter. "I was horrified to find the little girl in such a condition. I healed her and learned her name, Iris Karsus."

    Her voice trembled slightly as she continued. "We conversed at length, and it was then that I became aware of the unimaginable hardships she had endured from birth. I still cannot get that over my mind."

    My gaze hardened as I confronted the High Queen. "And you did nothing to save her from that hell? As far as I know, Iris remained trapped in the Karsus estate until she turned twelve."

    Guinevere met my gaze with a steely resolve. "I was prepared to confront Duke Karsus, but Iris intervened. She insisted that it was her burden to bear and that she alone should resolve it."

    "But still!" I rose from the couch, frustration bubbling over.

    "I was fully prepared to disregard her wishes and confront the Duke regardless," Guinevere responded with a fierce gaze. "But I saw her eyes. Her bright blue eyes burned fiercely with resolve, and so I decided to respect her wishes."

    I shot her a deadpan look. "Seriously? That was so dumb."

    Guinevere buried her face in her hands, a sigh escaping her lips. "I know, I know. Don��t remind me. It still haunts me to this day."

    I turned to Iris, frustration still simmering beneath the surface. "And why were you so stubborn?"

    Iris flashed a sheepish grin. "I didn��t trust anyone back then," she confessed.

    "I should��ve accepted the High Queen��s help back then." She sighed, then added with a smirk, "But hey, thanks to that decision of mine, I got to meet you."

    I bonked her on the head. "You stupid bitch!"

    "Ow! That actually hurt, you jerk!" she retorted, rubbing her head.

    "Bullshit! You��re just hamming it up because the High Queen is here!"

    Iris blew a raspberry at me. "Spoilsport."

    This girl...

    Guinevere chuckled, clearly entertained. "This is quite amusing."

    "Mother," Gawain sighed, shooting me a pleading look. "Please don��t encourage her antics."

    "There��s one more thing," the High Queen added, her expression shifting to one of mischief. "I was able to help Iris when I learned that she was sent to the Shield."

    Iris looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"

    Guinevere��s blue eyes glinted playfully. "I was the one who informed Kay about you."

    Iris��s eyes widened in realization. "So it was you! I always wondered why the Commander had a special interest in me. After all, I��m not the only bastard from a noble family."

    "Ah, that explains a lot," I remarked, turning to confront Kay.

    But...

    "Hey. Where��s the Commander?"

    We scanned the room, but there was no sign of the Knight of the Round.

    "Hmm, he must have slipped away," Guinevere noted with a knowing smile.

    "Typical Kay. Still the same as his Deathwalker days. I remember him avoiding social interactions when the gang was together in the Shield."

    I blinked in confusion at her words. "The gang?"

    Guinevere nodded, nostalgia creeping into her voice. "Yeah. Me, Arthur, Morgause, and Kay. We were quite notorious back when we were Deathwalkers."

    I stared at her in disbelief, and even Iris seemed taken aback by the revelation.

    "You were a Deathwalker?" I asked, astonished.

    Guinevere nodded, a smile playing on her lips. "And so was your mother. In fact, she was born in the Shield."

    My jaw hit the floor. "My mother was a Deathwalker?"

    Guinevere frowned slightly, her eyes narrowing. "Gawain didn��t tell you?"

    We looked at the High Prince, who was suddenly very interested in the cup of tea before him.

    "Gawain?" Guinevere spoke with narrowed eyes.

    He gave a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his head. "I... uh, forgot," he admitted with a nervous chuckle.

    "GAWAIN!"

 78 The Deathwalker Queen

    "Ah, the newbies are about to arrive."

    Iris glanced at the holographic display on her bracelet, a casual smirk playing on her lips.

    She stood up and bowed gracefully toward Guinevere, "I must take my leave, Your Majesty. The newcomers will be here shortly, and I''ve been assigned to welcome them."

    Guinevere��s eyes twinkled with a hint of mischief. "Ah, welcoming newbies. I remember it well. I can still recall the sensation of their blood trickling down my arms after I introduced their faces to the tarmac."

    We stared at her in surprise, and Iris, ever quick-witted, quipped, "It seems face-planting is a royal tradition. Who knew?"

    Turning back to me, Iris said, "I should get going."

    We shared a lingering kiss, her lips warm against mine before she pulled back. "Be careful, you maniac," I cautioned, "I should accompany you."

    She pressed a finger to my lips, silencing my offer with a smirk, "Nah. Spend some time with your family. Carlo��s offered to assist."

    I frowned, "Carlo? Really?"

    Iris raised an eyebrow, teasing, "Jealous?"

    I scoffed, shaking my head. "Nah. I��m just worried he��ll dampen your enjoyment of beating the shit out of cocky newbies."

    "Oh, I won��t let him." She chuckled, her voice filled with mischief.

    Bowing again to Guinevere and Gawain, Iris added, "Your Majesty, Your Highness."

    I raised an eyebrow, "What about me? I��m royalty as well."

    Laughing, Iris pulled me into another quick kiss, "How��s that?"

    I grinned, "Better."

    "See you later, love," she said softly before turning around and heading out of the lounge area.

    "Now I��m getting jealous." Gawain��s grin stretched wide, a playful gleam in his eyes.

    Guinevere laughed softly, "Considering you��re known as the ''Knight of Maidens,'' I must give Ragnelle credit. She managed to win you over despite the stiff competition."

    I glanced at Gawain, "Ragnelle?"

    He gave me a sheepish grin, "Yeah, my girlfriend."

    Ah, the story of Gawain and Ragnelle.

    In my past life, he��d broken her curse, transforming her from an old hag back to her true form, and they had fallen deeply in love.

    Seems like, no matter the universe, Ragnelle and Gawain are destined for each other.

    How disgustingly sweet.

    I��m getting diabetes just thinking about it.

    Guinevere sighed, "I envy Morg. Her children are enjoying the spring of their youth."

    I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? And what about my delightful and loving sisters?"

    She winced at the not-so-subtle jab. "You still can��t let it go, can you?"

    My expression hardened. "Never."

    Guinevere sighed again, "Alright. Morgan is as committed as ever. As the Crown Princess, she��s buried in responsibility."

    She rolled her eyes dramatically. "Honestly, she��s a workaholic with her guard permanently up. And she��s only twenty-one!"

    I smirked, "I see that Morgan is still the same."

    "I wonder..." I turned to meet Guinevere��s gaze squarely. "Mother, do I even exist in Morgan��s eyes anymore?"

    Guinevere��s eyes darkened, unreadable, "You��ll have to ask her yourself when you return."

    "Seems even you can��t decipher her," I remarked, noting the tightness in her expression.

    She gave a small, sad smile. "Morgan has always taken after her father."

    I shifted the conversation, curious. "And what of Elaine?"

    Guinevere��s smile faded entirely, replaced with concern. "Elaine... has changed."

    I raised my eyebrows. "Changed?"

    Both Guinevere and Gawain nodded.

    "She��s become reclusive, spending most of her days locked away in her room," Gawain explained, his voice tinged with worry.

    "Ever since you left, she��s distanced herself from her friends, and her entire demeanour has shifted," Guinevere added, her voice heavy with concern.

    "She neglects her training and studies, and she barely speaks to any of us. Not to me, not to Morgan, not even to your father."

    Gawain sighed. "And she��s even more distant from the little one."

    My frown deepened. Could my actions toward her have caused this change?

    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    Oops.

    I definitely don��t feel bad about that.

    But still, something else was off. Guinevere and Gawain were hiding something. Something else had happened to Elaine.

    Oh well. What��s it to me?

    Still... I��d bet my salary it involved her getting beat up in some way or another.

    Heh. Now that puts me in a good mood.

    I chuckled to myself and decided to ask about one more person. "And how��s Trinity?"

    Trinity Pendragon. The third High Princess who was born just two years ago.

    Seems like sending me to the Shield put the High King in an excellent mood.

    Guinevere��s eyes brightened instantly at the mention of her youngest daughter. "Oh, she��s just the cutest! She really wants to see you."

    Gawain grinned as well. "We had to sneak out while she was asleep. Otherwise, she would��ve thrown a fit about wanting to come along."

    "Wow. Two years old and already throwing tantrums. She really is your daughter," I teased, earning a shared laugh from both of them.

    "But back to the matter at hand," I said, the levity fading from my voice. "We''ve got sidetracked."

    Guinevere nodded in agreement. "You''re right."

    "So," I leaned forward, curiosity piqued, "You and my mother were both Deathwalkers?"

    She nodded, her expression serious. "Indeed we were."

    Drawing back the sleeve of her sweater, she touched the skin below her wrist. Her skin rippled as if it were a mirage, and a Deathwalker mark appeared underneath her phoenix tattoo along with many horrible scars.

    "A masking code," I guessed, studying the five vertical lines signifying five years of service. "I never came across any mention of you being a Deathwalker in the histories I''ve read."

    Guinevere gave me a bitter smile. "As you know, surviving Deathwalkers are never treated kindly by the people."

    "And if the citizens learn that their beloved Queen was one of them, things will get quite hairy," I surmised.

    She nodded, her eyes reflecting a deep sadness. "I hate doing this, masking the scars and suffering of fighting the daemons. But if it eases their minds, I''m willing to conceal my scars until my last breath."

    Gazing at the mark on her, I replied, "I understand. To be a king or a queen, one must be the perfect being in the eyes of the people, someone they can revere and look up to even during the darkest of times."

    Damn. I am such a wise guy. Sometimes my wisdom is frightening.

    My smile met hers as our eyes locked. "I''ve heard the adoration the people have for you, Mother. You truly are an exceptional queen."

    She looked moved, shaking her head slightly. "Thank you for saying that. But your mother was a more exceptional High Queen than I ever was and ever will be."

    My eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Mum was?"

    Guinevere nodded, her eyes distant with memories. "She was beloved by not just the Kingdom but the entire world."

    "Her kindness was boundless, and her ferocity in battle was utterly terrifying. No woman has ever reached the level that Morgause reached during her life."

    Tears shimmered in her eyes as she reminisced about her time with Morgause. "She remains the greatest friend I''ve ever had. When she died, the whole world mourned for her. Millions, from the lowliest beggars to the mighty Crowns, appeared for her funeral."

    She sighed heavily. "I am nowhere near the queen she ever was."

    Turning to Gawain, I asked, "You never shared this side of Mum with me."

    He looked guilty, his posture deflated. "I feared you''d resent her for leaving you in this world. That''s why I kept much of it from you."

    He lowered his head. "I am truly sorry for that, Mordred."

    "No need to bow your head, Gawain," I said with a gentle smile. "It''s unbecoming for the High Prince to do so."

    I then turned to Guinevere and spoke, "So Mum was a Deathwalker."

    She nodded solemnly. "She was. In fact, she was born here."

    I frowned. "What does that mean?"

    Guinevere leaned back with a sly smile. "You do know about the red light area on the fifty-second floor."

    I nodded. "Yeah. I and Iris are banned from entering."

    Gawain raised his eyebrows, interested. "Banned?"

    "Iris was quite horny for a thirteen-year-old," I began, trying to keep a straight face. "So a late friend of ours asked the Commander to ban her."

    "This being the Commander, he banned Iris and then later me from entering the red light area until the end of our sentences."

    Guinevere nodded, chuckling softly. "Yeah. That sounds like something Kay would do."

    She continued, her tone growing more serious. "Anyway, many Deathwalkers go to the red light area to have passionate lovemaking without Minerva breathing down their necks."

    "Some of these result in pregnancies," she said, her expression growing sombre. "Sadly, the Shield isn''t an ideal environment to raise a child. Many of these pregnancies end in abortions."

    Her eyes reflected deep sadness, yet within that pain-filled gaze, I noticed a glint of hope.

    "But there are exceptions," she added. "There are Deathwalkers who are prepared to raise children, and they bring new life into the cold confines of the Shield."

    Guinevere sighed heavily. "The tragic thing is, being a Deathwalker is quite incompatible with living. Many of these parents die on the battlefield, leaving their children as orphans in the Shield."

    I guessed, "So they are called Shield Orphans?"

    She nodded. "Yes. Being the children of Deathwalkers, many of them are unwanted, even by the families of their parents. Only a few are taken in and adopted."

    "Then there are those who are born to Deathwalkers, who themselves were once orphans," she continued. "Many Shield Orphans find their homes in Necropolis, raised by Crafters, Healers, business owners, and even other Deathwalkers."

    "Many of them get jobs in Necropolis, and some even take the bloody path of a Deathwalker themselves."

    Guinevere looked at me, her gaze steady. "Morgause was a Shield Orphan, born to parents who were both orphans."

    "Her father was a normal guy sent here from a prominent orphanage, while her mother was from a long-forgotten ancient lineage."

    "A descendant of the Vampire of the Purple Rose," I interjected, recalling what I learned in the library.

    Guinevere nodded. "Yes, sadly, Morgause''s parents passed away shortly after she was born."

    "She was raised by Crafters," a warm smile graced her lips as she continued. "She had a special fondness for Master Lorvar."

    I furrowed my brow, surprised. "That old man never breathed a word about Mum."

    "Perhaps he thought you might hold resentment towards Morg," Guinevere suggested with a gentle smile. "And besides, he''s quite old."

    "Bullshit. He can still break every bone in my body with his shoulder smacks," I scoffed.

    She laughed, her eyes twinkling. "Spoken just like your mother."

    "Morg was unique. Even at a very young age, she was fierce, cunning, strong, and ruthless, with quite the confidence and charisma," Guinevere said, her voice filled with awe.

    "She was as strong and fierce as a lioness, yet as cunning and lethal as a snake."

    "By the age of fifteen, she had surpassed even the Reapers in both notoriety and power. During her life, in the Shield, your mum earned many titles. The White Lioness, The Serpent Wit."

    "But the most legendary of them all was..." Guinevere��s eyes twinkled as she spoke, a mix of pride and reverence in her tone.

    "The Deathwalker Queen."

 79 A Familiar Face

    [Iris Lefay]

    "How are you so unaffected by this biting cold?"

    Carlo asked, shivering as the icy wind whipped against his face.

    I chuckled, rubbing my bare arms and tracing my fingers over the scars that marred my fair skin.

    "The Karsus Duchy is in the North, and the winters there are brutal. The attic where I lived was the coldest place. I had no blankets, just a thin nightdress that barely covered my cold naked body."

    I smiled at him, letting the memory linger for a moment. "You get used to the cold when you endure years of it."

    Carlo grimaced, his face contorting with both cold and discomfort. "I knew Duke Karsus was cold-hearted and ruthless, but I never imagined he''d be this cruel."

    I shrugged, my smile fading slightly. "Well, he only promised my mother that he''d keep me alive."

    After a moment, I tilted my head and looked at him. "I''ve been meaning to ask, what led the Devereux family to send their son to the Shield?"

    Rubbing his hands together for warmth, Carlo replied, "I wanted to prove myself to my father. I need to show them that I''m capable of leading our family."

    A chuckle escaped my lips. "So the wee lad of House Devereux came here due to a succession crisis."

    He frowned, shooting me a look. "Wee lad? I''m older than you."

    "And I''m your more experienced senior," I retorted, my tone light but with a teasing edge. I then returned my gaze to the sky framed by the mountains of Les Anciennes.

    "They should be within sight," I said, squinting over the rugged peaks, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Argo or its escort helicopters.

    "Have you seen the list of recruits?" Carlo asked after a pause.

    I shook my head. "Nope. I''ve been busy speaking with the High Queen."

    "Ah, the High Queen requested your presence," Carlo remarked, a hint of envy coloring his tone. "She must''ve been surprised to learn you''re dating the vice-captain."

    "She was pretty cool with it. Heck, she was delighted." A soft smile tugged at my lips. "She truly is an awesome queen."

    "Yes, she is," Carlo agreed, pulling up the list on his holographic display. "But you need to see this."

    My eyes widened as I scanned the list, my jaw nearly hitting the ground. "Holy Incarni! Minerva? How many are there in total?" I asked.

    "Two hundred recruits. A hundred and ten females, ninety males," Minerva''s cold voice spoke through my earpiece.

    I swallowed hard. "Did we hit the bloody jackpot? None of them are below B rank!"

    "I guess we did. Perhaps it''s due to the current circumstances?" Carlo suggested, the understatement clear in his tone.

    I nodded, "Could be. We''ll certainly need the extra help, especially when those suckers are appearing at night."

    Just weeks ago, daemons had surged out of the Tear during the night without warning.

    Almost all the Deathwalkers that had been hastily summoned to the battlefield were slaughtered.

    "Those sons of bitches blend seamlessly with the darkness and seem to grow stronger at night," I muttered, my fingers lightly brushing over a large scar on my exposed waist.

    That one was courtesy of a daemon''s barbed spear that had torn into my side a week ago during a particularly nasty night battle.

    Mordred hasn''t stopped poking me there since, wearing that damnable mocking grin of his that made him look cute on his devilishly handsome face.

    "And there''s a new type of wraith with an incredibly venomous bite," Carlo added.

    I sighed. "Wonderful. Those undead fuckers will soon develop immunity to stakes in the next update."

    Carlo chuckled lightly but shook his head. "Careful, Captain. That might become a reality."

    I pored over the list again, noting some promising recruits. "I''ve heard that the Ragnarok Empire and the Order of Lux have agreed to send warlocks to the Shield," Carlo mentioned.

    Rolling my eyes, I replied, "About damn time! The Kingdom''s been protecting the world from daemons for decades and perhaps centuries, and now they decide to send reinforcements? More meat for the grinder, I suppose."

    "That''s quite accurate," he agreed.

    The powerful gust of bitingly frigid wind that followed announced the arrival of the chopper squadron escorting the Argo.

    I watched the massive craft emerge from behind the mountains, gracefully gliding toward the airfield.

    A smirk spread across my face as the Argo approached the empty airfield, its silhouette growing larger as the Deathwalkers bustled around, preparing for the landing.

    "Shall we welcome the fresh meat?" I quipped, my grin turning a little wicked.

    Carlo shot me a sidelong glance, rolling his eyes. "Please don''t go overboard with them."

    Winking at him, I said, "Don''t worry, Master Devereux. I''ll behave."

    *******

    "What part of ''not going overboard'' did you not get?"

    Carlo grumbled as he led the thoroughly traumatized recruits toward the Shield''s main doors.

    Their faces were pale, and a few stumbled slightly, still shaking from the ��lesson�� they��d just endured.

    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    The stone eyes of dragon engravings seemed to watch us as we approached.

    I shrugged, casually cleaning the blood from my face and hands with Carlo��s handkerchief. "Those five recruits were incredibly annoying."

    "Sure, they were arrogant, but did you really have to amputate their limbs?" Carlo asked, rubbing his temples as if nursing a headache.

    I frowned. "Oh c��mon, I wasn��t that cruel."

    "Not that cruel?" He stared at me incredulously. "You tore off a young woman��s leg and slapped her in the face with it!"

    "She kicked a ball of condensed lightning at my face!" I defended.

    "Then show her the difference between your skills��don��t start ripping legs off!" Carlo retorted, his voice rising with exasperation.

    I waved him off dismissively. "Relax. Perry took them to Althea. They��ll be fine."

    Carlo sighed in defeat, running a hand through his hair. "Well, I��m just glad Vice-Captain Mordred wasn��t here. He would��ve skewered them and sent them to Althea like bloody kebabs."

    I grinned, flashing a smile that was probably more menacing than reassuring. "That��s my Mordred."

    Carlo threw his hands up in the air. "I give up!"

    Turning to the recruits, he motioned them toward the entrance. "Alright, gentlemen, follow me!"

    "And you lovely ladies, come with me!" I chimed in, flashing a sweet smile that probably only heightened their terror.

    One of the recruits flinched as I spoke, her face pale.

    Carlo shot me a glare. "Stop that. They��re terrified."

    "Fuck off, Carlo. You handle the men," I said, still smiling as I looked at the women.

    None of them dared to meet my gaze.

    *******

    "Processing Room 12."

    Minerva''s voice echoed in my earpiece as I led the female recruits down the well-lit hallway within the Shield.

    "I suppose we need the space with this many recruits," I mused aloud, knowing Room 12 was one of the largest processing rooms.

    "For someone with a penchant for sadistic violence, you do have moments of clarity," Minerva sniped back.

    "Can it, you pile of vacuum tubes," I shot back.

    "Ah, it appears Iris Lefay is slated for another night battle," she said, far too casually. My bracelet beeped as she registered me for the next night time battle against the daemons.

    "How petty can you be?" I snapped, my frustration bubbling over.

    "Um, Captain Lefay? Is something wrong?" a soft voice interrupted from behind me.

    It was one of the recruits��a young girl, probably around eighteen, with light brown hair and wide blue eyes.

    She was at the front of the group, and despite everything she��d just witnessed, she didn��t seem afraid to speak to me.

    I smiled. This is the type of Deathwalker we need.

    "Nothing. Just talking to our annoying resident AI," I reassured her with a wink, continuing toward the processing room.

    "It''s on the left," Minerva chimed in just as I was about to turn right.

    Right. I knew that.

    We took a left turn and walked for a minute before arriving at a door labeled:

    Processing Room 12.

    The door slid open, revealing a Deathwalker exiting, tablet in hand.

    "Ah, Captain Lefay! I''ve just completed the routine checkup." He smiled, extending the tablet towards me. "Please review this and confirm."

    Scanning the report, I raised an eyebrow. "The safety barrier is malfunctioning?"

    He nodded. "Yep. It tends to activate randomly and severs communication with Minerva. Just exercise caution."

    I frowned. "Can''t we get another room?"

    His smile was sympathetic. "Unfortunately, the other large rooms are either under maintenance or occupied."

    "Is it true, Minerva?" I asked, but there was no response.

    "The barrier��s activated," the Deathwalker sighed, knocking on the shimmering blue layer between us.

    He walked back into the room, fiddling with controls for a moment before it flickered off. "I''ve just repaired it."

    Finally, Minerva''s voice returned, sharp as ever. "Yeah?"

    "Can we switch to another room?" I inquired.

    "The only available room is farther away and will take more time to reach. Also, spoiler: we have an imminent attack."

    I sighed. "No need. I��ll manage."

    Turning to the Deathwalker, I nodded. "I guess we��ll be here, then."

    He nodded back. "Very well. Just watch out for the barrier." With a salute, he walked past me and the recruits. "I��ll take my leave."

    "Wait," I called out, "What''s your name?"

    He paused, then smiled. "The Fairy of Tenebris is curious about my name?"

    I shrugged. "Just wondering."

    "Jeko Hess," he replied with a slight bow. "A pleasure to meet you."

    "Likewise. Thank you," I replied with a nod.

    He bowed again and disappeared down the corridor. A prickle of unease crawled up my spine.

    There was something about him that lingered, but I shook it off.

    "Weird," I muttered before entering the room.

    The recruits assembled inside the massive hall filled with rows of capsule-shaped pods. I turned to face them. "Alright, ladies! Time to take off those cozy layers. That includes your underwear or lingerie."

    Stunned silence.

    "What?" the leading recruit asked, looking at me in disbelief.

    I rolled my eyes. "Get naked for processing. Minerva needs to scan your entire body to register you as Deathwalkers. It��s standard procedure, nothing inappropriate."

    I added. "If you are the shy type, you can take off your clothes in the pods."

    Some recruits sighed in relief, heading for the pods, while others reluctantly began undressing. I leaned back behind the control table.

    "Minerva. Fire up the pods," I ordered, my fingers tapping the tablet. But no response.

    "Fuck," I muttered, rising to my feet just as a faint blue shimmer flickered on the walls. The barrier was up.

    I looked up the procedure to fix the barrier shown on the tablet and my hand hovered over the controls to use them.

    Suddenly, a voice from the door stopped me in my tracks.

    "Captain Karsus."

    I whipped around. One of the recruits stood by the door, hands behind her back, her eyes cold.

    My blood ran cold. "What did you call me?"

    I had introduced myself as Lefay��there was no way anyone would know my old name unless they��d seen me before. But who?

    Her face looked unnervingly familiar.

    I searched my fragmented memories for anything. That''s when I realized.

    A face from my past, one of many who looked down on me during my nightmarish life in the Karsus Estate.

    She''s the maid of the brother I killed.

    "You," I snarled, stepping toward her. "What are you doing here?"

    She didn��t answer. Instead, she pulled out a glass canister filled with swirling crimson smoke.

    My heart stopped.

    "Your brothers send their regards," she sneered, her smile dripping with malice.

    Instinct kicked in. I dove back as she pressed a button.

    "Shit!"

 80 This Is A Pickle

    [Iris Lefay]

    Everything slowed.

    As I coursed ardor and darkness into every part of my body, time itself seemed to bend, crawling to a near halt as my senses sharpened to their limit.

    It wasn��t the Triquetra state that Mordred had mastered, but it was close. Close enough to save my life��again.

    A second before the canister detonated in the maid''s grasp, I instinctively reached for the syringe stored in my bracelet��s spatial compartment.

    My fingers moved with deadly precision, faster than the eye could track.

    Filled with a swirling red liquid, the syringe��s needle pierced my vein in one swift motion.

    I felt the cold rush as the liquid mixed with my blood, the push of the plunger sending it racing into my bloodstream.

    And now, cue the explosion.

    The canister erupted in a violent storm, releasing a tempest of crimson smoke that tore the maid apart in a grotesque spray of blood and entrails.

    Nightmarish screams pierced the air, as the thick crimson smoke twisted into spiraling pillars, lashing out like tendrils of lightning.

    Before the half-undressed recruits could even react, the smoke tore toward them, moving with unnatural speed and ferocity.

    Their terrified cries were drowned in a tide of blood-red vapor.

    One wailing pillar rushed toward me, and I gritted my teeth.

    "This better work," I muttered under my breath, bracing myself as it made contact.

    The moment it touched my skin, the crimson smoke disintegrated into a fine mist, vanishing with a final, pitiful wail.

    I exhaled sharply, a breath I hadn��t realized I was holding.

    The syringe contained a small amount of Mordred��s blood.

    The Pendragons. Immunity to poisons, possession, and all manner of curses ran in their veins.

    I had asked him for a vial��curiosity mostly, for my own experiments. He��d found it strange, but he didn��t deny my request.

    Items stored in the spatial storage of Deathwalker bracelets stayed in perfect condition. His blood had remained fresh, dormant, and waiting for the day I might need it.

    And here we were.

    One of my more dangerous experiments had involved injecting the blood into myself.

    A gamble. If it failed, I��d risk becoming a wraith myself.

    But if it worked�� Well, it might just save my life. I didn��t know until now whether it would work.

    But it did.

    Speaking of wraiths��

    The unholy screams from the wraiths had morphed into the tortured cries of the recruits, their bodies twisting as the crimson smoke took hold.

    The transformation was brutal��skin pulling tight, bones snapping into unnatural positions.

    I clicked my tongue in frustration as darkness gathered behind me, forming two massive wings that spread out with a heavy flap, lifting me from the floor to hover above the carnage.

    "It had to be wraiths," I muttered, watching the gruesome scene below.

    Their fingers had morphed into long, sickle-like claws, sharp enough to carve flesh from bone.

    Some of their claws had serrated edges, making their strikes even more lethal. Their skin had taken on an ashen hue, dark veins pulsing through their bodies in intricate patterns like spider webs.

    Their eyes were glowing a deep, feral red. Teeth like jagged needles filled their grotesque smiles, which stretched unnervingly far across their faces, their jaws distended beyond the realm of anything human.

    A collective unholy scream erupted from the mouths of a hundred and five wraiths, a monstrous blend of their spirit forms and the twisted, suffering hosts.

    And all those faces. Faces of young women frozen in agony, warped by the wraiths into something monstrous.

    I will have nightmares about this.

    Suddenly, as if drawn by some unseen force, all of their glowing eyes snapped to me.

    I laughed, but the sound came out hollow. "They��ve really outdone themselves this time."

    My brothers had truly lost their bloody minds. This��this was beyond cruelty.

    I turned swiftly, facing the barrier at the far end of the room.

    Reaching out, I pressed my hand against it, letting a gentle pulse of Ardor course through me. Probing its structure, I sought out its weak points.

    The Commander had taught me how to feel the intricacies of barriers, to read the energy flowing through them like threads in a tapestry.

    But as I studied the barrier more closely, a frown crept onto my face.

    ��That��s odd,�� I murmured.

    Jeko had said this was faulty. But the energy weave here��it was far too precise. Far too well-maintained.

    The most surprising part? The control over the barrier was transferred from Minerva to Jeko.

    Pieces began to fall into place.

    The canister.

    The maid.

    The barrier.

    Then I realized. Jeko Hess.

    Stolen novel; please report.

    ��That son of a bitch," I whispered, the anger simmering in my chest. "So he was the spy."

    I had suspected one of my brothers had a mole in the Shield��someone feeding them information. But I hadn��t been able to put the pieces together. Not until now.

    I could feel the bile rise in my throat as the memories flooded back.

    The way the assassins sent after me had known exactly where I would be, striking when I was alone. The way their moves seemed so rehearsed, so deliberate.

    It had to be Jeko. I clenched my fists. He knew things only a Deathwalker could know.

    Just wait, Jeko. Just wait.

    I will rip you to shreds.

    Suddenly, an unholy scream echoed from behind me. With a powerful flap of my wings, I dodged to the side just as a wraith collided with the barrier near me, then lunged at me in midair.

    Acting swiftly, I extended my hand, gathering darkness into a sharp spike.

    {Tenebris: Black Stake}

    The stake pierced the wraith''s chest, its momentum throwing it off balance and pinning it to the ground below.

    Nightmarish cries filled the air as more wraiths ascended from the ground, hurtling toward me.

    I skillfully evaded their onslaught, maneuvering through the air as wraiths narrowly missed me, plummeting to the ground below.

    Darkness covered my body like smoke as I summoned multiple black spikes and launched them at the wraiths, their black needle-like teeth gnashing up at me from below.

    Their red eyes gleamed with feral hunger, their bodies twisted and grotesque. They''re faster than usual... and stronger.

    Shrieks filled the room as the spikes struck their chests, went through their bodies, and pinned all hundred and five wraiths to the ground.

    They screamed at me from the floor, their red eyes burning with the desire to tear me apart.

    Hovering above them, I clicked my tongue in annoyance, my wings creating gusts of wind with each powerful flap.

    My Spark Gloves, invaluable for this situation, were with Master Lorvar for maintenance.

    Only the blue Purity Flames they produced could truly vanquish a wraith.

    My black flames wouldn''t suffice; the undead creatures would simply regenerate, making this a battle of attrition I wasn��t equipped for.

    For now, my best option was to keep them pinned and find reinforcements armed with those blue flames.

    But I can''t get out because of the barrier.

    Damn it. This is going to be a hassle. But things have to be resolved.

    I need to find a way to contact Minerva or anyone outside of this room and get help, preferably from A rankers.

    Wait. A rankers?

    Suddenly, something sliced past me, disintegrating my left wing into shadows.

    I plummeted, detecting multiple objects launching from below. Reacting swiftly, I unleashed my black appendages, deflecting them away.

    I caught a glimpse of one of the objects and my blood ran cold.

    It was a black claw covered in blood.

    These feral creeps ripped out their own claws!

    Many wraiths were now pulling themselves off the stakes, their horrifying cries mingling with the agonized screams of the recruits as the wraiths tore themselves free.

    I gritted my teeth, slamming into the ground.

    A shockwave of ardor and darkness erupted from me, scattering and shredding the nearest wraiths.

    The rank of a wraith is mainly determined by the person it possesses.

    When a wraith possesses an A rank, it has the power of that person.

    And there are a lot of A ranks among the recruits.

    As I rose to my feet, black tentacles sprouted from my back as I drew my daggers.

    A wraith lunged at me, claws aimed at my face, and I deftly severed its head with a flick of my wrist, blood splattering over me.

    Moving fluidly, I dispatched wraith after wraith, slicing through them with my daggers and tentacles.

    One fell to a decapitating blow, another had its legs severed, and a third found my dagger in its eye socket.

    The only thing I could hear was the slicing of flesh, the splatter of blood, and the impact caused by my tentacles.

    But none of them were as loud as the horrifying screaming of the wraiths as they attacked me and fell on the wrong side of my blade.

    All of them used to be humans, but now they are monsters hell-bent on killing me.

    An A ranker can only be defeated by another of the same rank. But I��m different. I stand at the precipice of S rank, beyond A rank.

    The strongest wraith here was just an intermediate A ranker; they stood no chance against me.

    So far, the only injuries I have are a few scratches.

    And so I unleashed a maelstrom of attacks on the advancing wraiths.

    My tentacles lashed out in every direction, slashing through the air, while my blades cut through flesh as if it were mere paper.

    Blood and entrails lay on the floor and I was bathed in them.

    Summoning a multitude of black stakes, I pinned the wraiths to the ground, rendering them immobile.

    The entire room was in chaos, the barrier pulsating violently as my aura clashed against it.

    But it won''t shatter. This barrier was designed to withstand assaults even from an S ranker.

    Using a wraith''s face as a springboard, I vaulted into the air. My tentacles reached out, crashing into the mass of wraiths below.

    As I descended, darkness swirled around me to form numerous black rods, and I hurled them down upon the creatures with deadly precision.

    Black vortices surrounded me, and different types of bladed weapons made of solid darkness emerged out of them.

    {Tenebris: Bladefall}

    I joined the many black weapons as they rained down on the wraiths.

    Slamming into the midst of a cluster of wraiths, I unleashed an Ardor pulse and swung my dagger, releasing an arc of black flames.

    {Tenebris: Flare Crescent}

    The black immolating flames engulfed the creatures and their agonized screams echoed loudly as they burned.

    However, just as swiftly as the flames consumed them, they regenerated and lunged at me once more.

    Damn it. They��re regenerating too fast. These wraiths are different from the ones I��ve fought before.

    I gritted my teeth and let my tentacles deal with them.

    That is the major problem I am facing.

    Without Purity Flames to vanquish them, my attacks were only temporary solutions.

    And it seems like these wraiths are quite special, regenerating almost instantaneously after being damaged.

    I''d slice one into ribbons, only for it to return to its full form and attack again moments later.

    And with their numbers, it feels like I am fighting an endless horde.

    Even when I immobilized them with my stakes and rods, they managed to break free alarmingly quickly.

    Don''t tell me they''re immune to staking...

    Fuck!

    What did my brothers concoct in that bloody canister?

    Continuously attacking them is futile, but I could not stop. The moment I stop, they will overwhelm me.

    And if they overwhelm me, it won''t be long before the already-worn barrier gives out.

    And if that happened, the wraiths would be unleashed, wreaking havoc and indiscriminately slaughtering anyone in their path.

    I must not let that happen.

    Sparks flew as I parried the slashing claws of a wraith with one dagger and thrust the other into its neck.

    With a powerful swing, I hurled the creature like a rag doll toward others advancing on me.

    The wraiths had grown more aggressive, exploiting the small openings in the absolute defense provided by my tentacles.

    A sudden sharp pain shot through me as a wraith, once a beautiful blonde girl, grazed my arm with its claw.

    Grimacing, I swiftly drove a black rod through its face, but the burning sensation from the wound made me stagger.

    That''s when a wraith sunk its teeth into my flesh.

    Well. This is a pickle.

 81 A Greater Price

    [Iris Lefay]

    "Oh, you little bitch."

    I glared at the wraith that just bit into my shoulder. It was the leader of the recruits.

    Her eyes, once a vibrant blue, had turned a chilling red. With her needle-like black teeth sinking deeper into my flesh, her gaze was feral and intense.

    "Sorry," I murmured, as one of my tentacles morphed into a clawed hand and crushed her head, showering me in blood and brains.

    Yet, even as the wraith''s body fell limp, I watched as its head began to regenerate.

    Oh, and one more thing: when the wraiths regenerate, they don''t regenerate the clothes shredded by me, and many of the recruits were half-undressed when they turned.

    Yeah. I''m surrounded by freaky killing machines that are in the nude.

    Not the nudist party I was envisioning.

    Condensing darkness around my fist, I punched the ground, releasing a powerful wave of darkness that obliterated the nearby wraiths.

    {Tenebris: Black Shock}

    Having given myself a tiny window of respite, I straightened up, only to stagger as a searing pain ripped out from my shoulder.

    This wasn��t like the graze I��d received earlier.

    This was way worse, more agonizing than a cut from a daemon. My right side felt as though boiling acid was coursing through my veins.

    My vision blurred, my mind spun, and I collapsed to my knees. Breathing became a struggle, and my strength was slowly draining away.

    Desperately, I slammed my palm onto the shattered floor and activated a defensive code.

    {Tenebris: Shadow Dome}

    A protective dome of pure darkness encased me. Almost immediately, cracks began to form as the A-ranked wraiths viciously attacked it.

    Despite the dome being made of pure darkness, there was ample light inside it.

    I took a deep breath and checked my shoulder. My right side was smoking, my flesh rotting.

    "So this is what Carlo meant by venomous wraiths," I cursed, trying to heal my shoulder with Tenebris.

    But the venom was spreading too fast, turning my flesh into a necrotic mess.

    Mordred''s blood, which I��d injected for immunity, was wearing off.

    Maybe it''s because I wasn��t a Pendragon.

    The pain was unbearable, but that wasn��t the worst part. I knew I was running out of time.

    Dizziness overwhelmed me, and my thoughts started slipping. For a brief moment, I could��ve sworn I saw the twisted faces of my brothers leering at me from the shadows.

    "You can��t fight this. You��re weak," Their voices echoed inside my skull, blending with the primal snarls of the wraiths.

    I shook my head, blinking away the hallucination.

    Focus. I needed to stay focused.

    One section of the dome crumbled, revealing the crimson eyes of a wraith.

    I clenched my jaw. Looks like there is no choice.

    With a swift slash followed by a grunt of pain, I severed my right arm. It thudded to the floor.

    The pain wasn��t as sharp as I expected. More like a dull throb.

    I''m used to losing limbs by now.

    Wincing, I summoned threads of darkness with Tenebris to wrap around the bleeding stump. I scooped up my severed arm and stowed it in the spatial storage of my bracelet.

    The dome continued to crumble around me as the wraiths clawed through my defenses.

    My breath was shallow. The venom was still inside me, gnawing at my insides.

    Mordred''s diluted blood is holding it at bay, for now. But it wouldn��t last.

    I gritted my teeth and focused, invoking the power of Tenebris.

    Darkness swirled around the stump on my shoulder, pooling and twisting until it formed the shape of a new arm.

    Black as night, swirling with dark energy, it was only a temporary fix, but it would have to do.

    I flexed the clawed fingers of my new shadow arm. It moved smoothly enough.

    Gripping my bloodied black dagger in my left hand, I pushed more ardor into it, then raised my new arm toward the wraiths. Hundreds of black rods formed in the air, spinning above me.

    "Eat this."

    With a flick of my wrist, the rods rained down, drilling the wraiths into the ground with brutal precision.

    Their collective shrieks filled the air, but even as the rods skewered them, the wraiths began to regenerate, slowly pulling themselves free.

    These freaks are getting quite annoying.

    The only thing that could destroy them permanently was Purity flames. And I didn��t have them.

    But there was one other option��a desperate one.

    I clenched my fists, shaking my head.

    No way I��m using my stigma.

    "Oh, that''s a shame."

    A voice suddenly whispered beside me. Reacting on instinct, I swung my dagger, unleashing a burst of black flames that engulfed the wraiths nearby.

    But there was no one there except for wraiths who were engulfed by my flames.

    "Ooh. Feisty!"

    The voice returned, closer, mocking. I turned around to see. There is no way the wraiths have developed speech.

    "Now that''s rude! Don''t compare me to those vile things. Oh, behind you."

    Whipping around, I saw wraiths lunging at me. Acting swiftly, My tentacles ripped through them with savage precision, reducing them to ribbons and bloodied scraps.

    "You''re welcome," the voice chimed smugly.

    What the fuck is happening? Am  I losing my mind? Was the venom messing with me?

    "Oh no. You are not hallucinating, dear,"  the voice teased, lilting with amusement. "Though the venom did make it easier for me to slip in."

    I summoned another barrage of black stakes around me and hurled them at the advancing wraiths.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    "Who are you?" I demanded, my vision blurring momentarily.

    As I shook my head to clear it, I noticed a familiar shape emerging from among the wraiths trapped by the stakes.

    The figure was humanoid, eerily resembling me. As the details became clearer, my eyes widened in recognition.

    "Incarni! Is that... me?" I exclaimed and blinked again. "And why am I shadowy and... naked?"

    My naked and shadowy doppelganger tilted her head with an amused smile.

    "I am you, Iris," she shrugged. "Well. The inner you. Kind of like your inner voice or should I say, the true you?"

    I scowled. "Sure. And why are you naked?"

    She shrugged, her form shimmering slightly. "Well, you''ve never been a fan of clothes, so I went with it.  But more importantly��a wraith, above you."

    I dodged just in time as a wraith��s claws slashed through the space I��d been standing.

    My foot lashed out instinctively, driving an axe kick into its head. The marble floor cracked beneath its skull.

    "What do you want?" I growled, charging back into the fray. My daggers cleaved through the wraiths, tentacles ripping apart anything that came close.

    "I thought I''d keep you company in your final moments," she replied in a light voice as if commenting on the weather.

    Driving my dagger into a wraith''s face and cleaving it in two, I scoffed. "Final moments? Seriously?"

    She chuckled. "Oh, you are dying! The strain of battling these endlessly regenerating creatures, coupled with the venom coursing through your veins, is taking its toll. You need to get to Althea fast if you want to survive."

    "Bullshit!" I snarled, sweeping aside a horde of wraiths with a flare of tentacles.

    But as much as I hated to admit it, her words rang true. My strikes lacked their usual force. I could feel the venom crawling through my veins, slowing me down.

    "I wish I could just run to Althea, but these fuckers won''t stop coming!" I growled, slicing a wraith in half and thrusting my daggers into another''s eyes.

    "Oh, there is a way," my shadowy doppelganger whispered, materializing beside me, sending shivers down my spine.

    "And since you��re dying... why not use it and go out with a bang?" She grinned mischievously, her eyes gleaming.

    I thrust my dagger at her. The black blade passed through her form like smoke, embedding itself into a wraith''s skull instead.

    With a brutal twist, I split its head in half, flinging the remains aside.

    "For someone claiming to be my ''true self,'' you''re awfully misinformed," I quipped, kicking another wraith''s face in.

    A shockwave of darkness obliterated its head.

    "I can only use my stigma once. And in case you haven��t noticed, there are hundreds of these things," I pointed out.

    Her laughter echoed all over the room. "Oh dear! That is quite funny!  You��ve just accepted that limit without question!"

    She materialized before me, her grin malevolent, "But what if I told you... you can use your stigma more than once?"

    Her words froze me. A wraith took the opportunity to rake its claws across my stomach, leaving a jagged gash.

    I staggered, grimacing, and unleashed a Black Shock, scattering the creatures.

    "Impossible!" I spat. "There��s a reason my stigma has such a huge price."

    "Because it is overpowered? Of course, I know!" she giggled.

    "I know all about the conditions for activating Coup de Grace. You have to be near death, you can only use it once a week, and you''ll be incapacitated for that week," she recounted.

    Her blue eyes met mine, and she tapped her forehead. "Those conditions are there to protect you, especially your mind."

    "There is one more price one must pay to wield Absolute Death in their hands."

    "Yeah, I know," I muttered. Spinning around, I unleashed immolating black flames from my daggers.

    Darting through the wraiths, I sliced and scorched them, leaving a path of fiery destruction in my wake.

    "I figured it out when I found out about my fragmented memories."

    She applauded. "My! You are quite the clever girl!"

    Leaning forward, her smile sharpened. "Then I believe you will understand that using your stigma more than once requires an even greater price."

    I smirked, slicing through another wraith. "I��m already dying. Whatever you''re offering won��t change that."

    Her laughter echoed again, "Your life is precious! Of course, it will be a huge price. But..."

    Her grin widened, a feral gleam in her eyes. "But I want something greater. Something far more precious."

    Black flames passed through her and struck some wraiths, but they were quickly extinguished.

    I am running out of strength.

    "You," I said, my gaze hardening as she materialized before me

    "Who are you?"

    "There is no way you are truly me," I spat out.

    "So who the fuck are you? My stigma?"

    "I am you," she said, her voice soft yet sinister. "I am also not you. And I am bound to your stigma."

    She leaned closer and answered. "I am [****]."

    My breath caught. I almost dropped my daggers.

    I looked at her and asked. "What happens if I refuse your help?

    She shrugged. "You will continue to fight like before, and of course, I will try my best to help you."

    "But you will fall," she declared. "The wraiths will overwhelm you, despite your power."

    "Then the barrier will fall," she said, nodding toward the pulsating barrier.

    "Sure, it can take blows from an S rank but not repeated ones. And a constant vicious attack from these A-ranked and B-ranked abominations? It will eventually shatter."

    Her eyes locked onto mine with a malevolent smile. "And then the wraiths will escape this room and will swarm Necropolis like a tidal wave."

    Her grin widened, eyes gleaming with malice. "They��ll slaughter everyone��Deathwalkers, merchants, your unit. Even... the one you care about most."

    My hands tightened on my daggers. "No way. Mordred and the others will roast them."

    "Of course, they will," she purred. "But they will have quite the difficulty with the barbeque since your dear brothers have given these freaky beauties increased resistance to Purity Flames."

    I froze. "What?"

    "Oh, not fully immune, but resistant enough to make things... messy. The Deathwalkers will win, but the cost will be high."

    Her voice grew softer, more sinister. "And what if one wraith slips through? What if Mordred��s throat is slashed, and they get him before he can heal?"

    Her grin widened, relishing the look on my face, "When it comes to daemons and wraiths... anything can happen."

    "Wouldn''t you agree? Iris?"

    Suddenly, everything turned still.

    I found myself on a hill of bloodied corpses. There were Deathwalkers, merchants, Crafters, and many more.

    As I looked around, terror and despair clenched at my soul when I saw them.

    Master Lorvar, the Commander, Artemis, Apollo, Carlo, Ava, Krystal, Dorothy, and many others I knew.

    Their lifeless bodies lay scattered among the mutilated and bloodied corpses, their vacant eyes hauntingly fixed on me.

    I lifted my eyes and what I saw tore my very soul. On the peak, staked to a cross, with his limbs torn off and entrails spilling out, was Mordred.

    His head lifted slowly, and I felt my legs buckle beneath me. His bloodied hair clung to his scarred and ravaged face, and his one remaining eye locked onto mine.

    "Iris," he whispered.

    Tears streamed down my face, my hands trembling uncontrollably. I tried to shield my eyes from the horrific sight, but it was futile.

    No matter how many times I tried to cover them, the gruesome scene remained, just like in my recurring nightmares.

    Yes. This was my nightmare. Always.

    "You can prevent this Iris."

    Her voice broke through the vision and brought me back to the processing room.

    She stood before me, her form clear as ever.

    Time remained suspended, the wraiths frozen mid-scream, their menacing teeth exposed.

    She extended her hand toward me.

    "Accept my hand and become Death Incarnate, Oh Child of Tenebris."

    I took a deep breath and raised my arm made of swirling darkness.

    Grasping her hand firmly, I whispered.

    "I accept."

    Her giggle rang through the air. "Wonderful! Now let''s fulfill the condition for activation."

    I nodded again and time snapped back into motion. I rushed forward to meet the wraiths.

    Black markings erupted across my body, covering my left arm and exposed waist.

    Swiftly, I seized the arm of a wailing wraith, allowing its sharp claws to pierce through my body.

    "I��ll be a bit late, Mordred," I murmured with a faint smile.

    "Oh don''t worry," her voice chimed in from all directions, a childlike giggle echoing through the room.

    "I''ll ensure you don''t meet your end. After all, I need you alive, my dear Fairy."

    I unraveled my black wings of darkness and plunged my dagger into the wraith''s heart.

    "When all of this is over. You are next," I told her with a wide grin on my face.

    Her laughter echoed all over the room, shaking even the barrier.

    "We''ll see about that, child."

 82 We Have A Situation

    [Back to Mordred]

    "No bloody way."

    I stared at Guinevere as she traced her finger along the edge of one of my white daggers.

    Somehow, she avoided cutting herself on the basilisk emerald-infused edge, but that wasn��t the most surprising part.

    "You mean these daggers belonged to Mum?" I asked, turning to Gawain in disbelief.

    He nodded with a smile. "Indeed, Red. She told me about a pair of white daggers made of Moonsilver, but this is the first time I��m seeing them."

    "Morg didn''t take them when she left the Shield with us," Guinevere chimed in, offering a small smile. "She entrusted them to Master Lorvar, just before he put little Dorothy in charge of the shop."

    "Huh," I murmured, accepting the dagger she handed me and frowning. "Master Lorvar and Dorothy never told me about Mum."

    Guinevere shrugged lightly. "Maybe they didn��t want you to know she was a Deathwalker. They had their reasons, Mordred."

    "Yeah." I traced the pristine white surface of the dagger with my fingertips, lingering over the gray handle.

    How many times had my mother gripped these?

    "Did they have a name?" I asked, glancing back at Guinevere.

    Her lips curved into a smile. "She called them her Fangs."

    "Fangs," I repeated, a chuckle escaping me as I traced its green edge with my finger. "Not bad."

    Gawain leaned in, inspecting the blade. "And you��ve modified them with morphium. They can transform into another weapon."

    Nodding, I pulled out the second dagger, locking them together. The white Moonsilver morphed, the twin daggers merging into a sleek white sword with a green edge.

    Gawain whistled as I handed him the sword.

    He stood up and twirled the blade. "Well-balanced, even for me."

    His green eyes glowed and the green edge of the sword glowed as well as he streamed ardor into the blade and did a thrust, releasing a gust of ardor that knocked some decorations off the fireplace.

    "Oops." He winced but then grinned. "The ardor conduction��s amazing. Moonsilver is truly something else."

    He handed the sword back, smiling. "You��ve got yourself quite the toy, Red."

    Guinevere smiled, her tone softening. "You could take it with you when you leave next month."

    "Ah, yeah. I''ll be out by next month,"  I nodded, but my thoughts drifted elsewhere.

    To Iris.

    Guinevere tilted her head, catching the shift in my expression. "Are you planning to leave? Or... stay like the majority of Deathwalkers after their sentence is finished?"

    I hesitated, then shook my head. "Heck no. But I don''t know if I should leave now."

    "Ah." She immediately understood. "It''s about Iris. She has one more year left."

    She kindly smiled. "You want to leave with her."

    I met her gaze. "How did you figure that out?"

    Guinevere looked proud. "I have my ways, Mordred."

    "She asked Uncle Kay," Gawain added with a sly grin.

    "Oi! Stop exposing me!" Guinevere��s cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

    I laughed. "Impressive, Mother. You might put the intelligence division of the Phantom Knights out of business."

    Her blush deepened. "Oh, shut up."

    "Anyway!" she quickly changed the subject. "So you''re not getting out next month?"

    I shrugged, conflicted. "I don��t know. I want to stay, but Iris wants me to leave. She doesn��t want me to risk any more time here."

    "Ah," Guinevere nodded. "She wants you to leave early because she cares for you. She wants you to get out of this hell as quickly as possible."

    "But it��s still another year of fighting, of facing daemons alone," I muttered. "I don��t like leaving her behind."

    Guinevere leaned forward, her voice gentle. "She wants you to be safe, Mordred. She��s confident in her own strength. You��ve seen her. She��ll survive this last year."

    "But if you find it difficult to spend a year away from her and worrying about her safety, your decision to stay is also viable," she advised.

    "In the end, it is up to you, Red," Gawain interjected with a smile.

    "I agree," Guinevere leaned back. "You still have a month to make a decision. So take it slow."

    "And if you do stay," she added with a smile, "you both must visit the Royal Palace after you leave the Shield. Trinity would love to meet her big brother and... future big sister."

    "Mother!" My face heated up, and Gawain��s laughter filled the room.

    "Awww! He looks so cute when embarrassed!" Guinevere teased.

    Seeing them laugh heartily, I too couldn''t help but let out a chuckle.

    That''s when we felt it.

    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    A powerful wave of energy passed over us, dark and heavy. It hit like a black cloud, and we all tensed.

    "What was that?" Gawain''s voice was tight. His green eyes, which were relaxed a few seconds ago are now on high alert.

    "A highly concentrated ardor wave," Guinevere answered, her eyes narrowing. "But there was something else. Tenebris... It felt ominous."

    Her arms wrapped around herself, a shiver coursing through her. "Like Death itself came calling."

    "Tenebris?" I shot up from my seat, a sick feeling forming in the pit of my stomach. "Iris?"

    The door burst open, and Kay strode in, his face set in urgency. "Did you feel that?"

    We nodded and noticed his troubled expression.

    "Kay? What is wrong?" Guinevere asked.

    "We have a situation, Your Majesty," he promptly answered, his gaze locking with Guinevere''s.

    "Minerva has lost all contact with Processing Room 12," he reported, his voice grim. "That energy wave��it came from there."

    Guinevere frowned. "Processing Room 12? Isn''t that one of the bigger rooms for processing new recruits?"

    A sick feeling gripped my chest. "Is that where Iris went?"

    The sick feeling worsened when the Commander nodded his head gravely. "Indeed. That''s the place she was assigned."

    "Screams were heard from that area," Minerva added, her cold voice echoing all over the room.

    "Screams?" I felt my throat tighten. "Were they human?"

    "No. Wraiths," she replied curtly.

    The next second, I was already moving, sprinting out the door with my heart hammering in my chest.

    "Please be okay, you maniac," I muttered, calling Minerva.

    "Take me to Processing Room 12."

    *******

    "Vice Captain!"

    Artemis''s voice stopped me in my tracks, and I spun around. The rest of the Lunatics trailed behind her, their expressions tight with worry��except for Carlo, who was notably absent.

    "Carlo called us for help!" Artemis explained breathlessly as they caught up to me.

    "What did he say?" I demanded, already rushing along the corridor, following Minerva''s directions.

    "He''s in front of Processing Room 12," Ava responded, her brow furrowed with concern. "He can''t get in. He mentioned hearing screams."

    "We felt the energy wave too," Apollo added with a shudder. "It was terrifying."

    "Yeah, it was bone-chilling," Krystal remarked, shaking her head.

    "Fuck!" I cursed loudly, quickening our pace. The startled expressions of Deathwalkers passing by barely registered in my mind.

    "It seems Minerva hasn''t issued an alert," Artemis observed, noting their confusion.

    "She''s probably preparing a response team, knowing we''re heading there," I muttered as we rounded a corner.

    A surge of ardor washed over us, accompanied by the faint crackle of lightning in the air.

    "Everyone has their Spark Gloves?" I asked.

    "Yes!" came their unified reply.

    "Good. This might get ugly." I brought the Fangs into my hands, readying myself for whatever lay ahead.

    As we turned another corner, we came to an abrupt halt at the sight before us.

    "Carlo?"

    There he stood, the young Devereux facing two damaged white doors, his chest heaving with exertion. His claymore crackled with red lightning, illuminating his tense features.

    There he stood, the young Devereux facing two damaged white doors, his chest heaving with exertion. His claymore crackled with red lightning, illuminating his tense features.

    "Carlo! What the hell are you doing?" I barked.

    "Trying to break the damn barrier!" he shouted back, enveloping his claymore with more lightning for another blow.

    His next strike sent a potent blue pulse from the doors, but they held, undamaged. The energy rippled outward, vibrating the air with force.

    He gritted his teeth. "It''s fucking tough!"

    As we approached, the screams of the wraiths became clearer, crawling under my skin, the eerie echoes like nails on glass.

    Dread coiled in the pit of my stomach at the thought of Iris being trapped inside the room with those abominations.

    Suddenly, the screams stopped, and a heavy silence descended.

    We exchanged tense glances and immediately activated our strands.

    "We''ll hit it together!" I commanded. Everyone nodded, preparing for a combined strike.

    "That won''t be necessary," Guinevere''s voice cut through the air, grave and commanding.

    We quickly deactivated our strands and turned to see the High Queen approaching, her serious expression matched by the rippling power that surrounded her.

    The air itself seemed to respond to her presence. Gawain and Kay followed close behind, with a team of Deathwalkers and healers led by the Doc in tow.

    Gawain and Kay closely followed behind her along with a few Deathwalkers and a team of healers led by the Doc.

    The Lunatics, except for me, quickly bowed their heads in respect.

    "Mother?" Panic crept into my voice as I looked at her. "What are you��?"

    "Minerva teleported us here after we assembled a response team," she interrupted, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder.

    "Don''t waste your power trying to break the barrier," she said with a small smile. "I will dismantle it."

    She stepped forward, examining the battered doors with a steady gaze.

    Her hand hovered just above the surface, and her eyes glowed as she analyzed the barrier. The power in the air shifted.

    Her eyes glowed as she analyzed the barrier.

    "This barrier could withstand a few strikes from an S ranker," she mused. "But it��s weak now, likely thanks to Iris and... your efforts," her gaze flicked to Carlo.

    Carlo''s grip tightened on his claymore, his face flushed with frustration.

    Guinevere pursed her lips. "It��s a simple barrier��controlled by someone named Jeko Hess."

    We exchanged confused glances.

    Who is that?

    Before we could question further, Guinevere shook her head, cursing under her breath.

    "What the fuck, Minerva?" she muttered, "You''re losing your touch."

    Her eyes glowed brighter, and a wave of ardor passed over the translucent barrier.

    A sound like shattering glass filled the air, and the barrier crumbled away.

    "There. It��s dismantled," she said with a smile.

    I stared at her in awe. She had figured out the barrier''s properties, identified its controller, and broken it apart in seconds.

    It was a display of absolute mastery.

    "That��s the High Queen for you," Artemis whispered, unable to hide her admiration.

    But Guinevere didn��t respond.

    Her smile vanished, her face turning pale as her eyes widened in shock.

    All of us followed her gaze and dread enveloped us.

    A dark, sticky liquid was seeping out from under the doors, soaking Guinevere��s boots and spreading across the pristine white carpet.

    It crept toward us like something alive, the sickly-sweet metallic scent hitting me a moment later.

    The crimson pool continued to grow, turning the corridor��s sterile white into a nightmarish scene.

    Blood.

    Lots of blood.

 83 Wake Me Up A Week Later

    "Oh Incarni."

    Guinevere whispered, her voice quivering as her eyes took in the blood pooling around her feet.

    "Minerva," I broke the silence, my voice barely above a whisper. "What do you see inside?"

    Minerva''s response cut through the silence, but there was something... unnerving about the AI��s voice.

    "Death," she said. "Pure, unadulterated death. I have never seen anything like this."

    I never imagined the AI was capable of expressing shock.

    Dread tightened its poisonous grip around my chest, and with every step toward the door, the blood squelched beneath my boots, the sound sickening in the heavy quiet.

    "Let me, Mother." I stopped beside Guinevere. Her gaze flickered to me, full of concern, as though instinctively trying to shield me from the horrors ahead.

    "Are you sure, Mordred? What if she��s��"

    "I��ll be fine," I interrupted, forcing a smile. "She��s bloody strong. She��s probably figuring out how to look badass sitting on top of a pile of bodies."

    I tried to chuckle, but it came out hollow. My hands trembled as I pushed open the doors.

    They swung open soundlessly, and a wave of blood flowed over my boots, splashing around my ankles.

    The stench of death hit me like a wall, thick and suffocating, filling my lungs with every breath.

    My breathing became heavy, and ragged, as my eyes beheld the nightmare before me.

    What I saw would be seared into my mind forever.

    A hundred bodies, some dismembered and others whole lay scattered like discarded puppets in a sea of blood that stretched out as far as I could see, staining everything in a dark, viscous red

    Each corpse told a story of agony and terror, their faces frozen into horrifying expressions of primal despair and rage.

    Black claws like huge scythes, and black teeth that looked like needles stood out of the naked bodies twisted and morphed by the wraiths into killing machines.

    I stepped carefully between the bodies, my stomach churning with each sickening squelch beneath my feet as I navigated through this swamp of blood and death.

    Yet amidst the horror, my focus remained fixed on her.

    Her back was turned to me, her silhouette bathed in the glow of blood-soaked carnage.

    A dark aura clung to her like a miasma, and she swayed on unsteady legs, her breaths ragged.

    "Iris?" My voice cracked.

    She froze, then turned slowly, her face barely visible through the blood covering her features.

    "Mordred?" Her voice was a whisper, raw with exhaustion.

    What I saw broke my soul.

    Her right arm was cleanly sliced off at the shoulder, a precise cut that only she was capable of, most likely a self-amputation in a desperate act of self-preservation

    Her Deathwalker uniform was tattered and torn, shredded by the relentless onslaught of the wraiths. The fabric hung in tatters, revealing the horrors that lay beneath in stark detail.

    Her body was a canvas of carnage. Deep gashes crisscrossed her skin, gashes that cut down to the bone.

    There were so many gashes that they almost covered her scars.

    Rivulets of blood flowed freely from her wounds, mixing with the blood of the wraiths she was bathed in.

    Amidst the many horrific wounds were what looked like bite marks. Necrosis spread out of those wounds like a plague or what seemed like venom spread all over her body like wildfire.

    A gaping hole marred her torso, exposing her ribs and viscera to the world.

    And her face... Incarni, her face.

    A chill gripped me as I gazed upon the devastation etched upon her face

    Most of her left cheek was torn asunder, revealing the jagged edges of her jawbone and bloody lacerations marred her beautiful face.

    Blood flowed down from her eyes like tears and her blue irises pierced through the crimson of her bloodshot eyes.

    Despite the atrocities that wracked her form, Iris mustered a small, grotesque smile.

    "Hey, love. Told you I''ll be fine."

    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Her legs gave way, and I rushed forward, catching her before she collapsed completely.

    My heart pounded in my ears as I kneeled down, clearing a space amidst the blood and bodies with my blood tentacles before laying her down gently.

    "Iris..." My voice trembled as I cradled her head in my arms, tears slipping down my cheeks and mixing with the blood on her skin.

    She smiled faintly. "I beat my nightmare."

    "I��m just glad you��re safe," she rasped, though her eyes clouded with uncertainty. "Don''t worry love. She promised I wouldn��t die..."

    "What do you mean?", I asked softly, brushing hair from her face as gently as I could.

    Her expression grew cloudy. "I... I can''t remember," she admitted

    Her grip tightened on my hand. "Oh, yes... Jeko Hess. Kill that son of a bitch for me."

    "Was he responsible for this?" Anger simmered beneath the surface, but I kept my voice steady.

    She nodded weakly. "Yep. Might take me a while to wake up, though. So get that little bastard for me."

    A smile tugged at my lips despite the weight crushing my chest. "I will."

    Iris smiled, and coughed, blood bubbling from her lips as her breathing grew fainter.

    "DOC!", I called out frantically.

    "Coming!" Dr. Casper Haytham bounded across the room, his team following close behind.

    He kneeled beside Iris, his eyes scanning her condition.

    "You better stay alive kid. No way you''re dying after deleting a hundred wraiths," Dr. Haytham muttered, determination etched into every word.

    "A hundred and seven, actually," Iris corrected and coughed out blood again.

    "Fuck. I should stop speaking," she muttered, her voice growing fainter with each breath.

    She looked at me, her voice barely above a whisper. "Mordred, give me a kiss."

    I leaned down, pressing my lips to hers, tasting the metallic tang of blood. Her lips were torn, but I could still feel the warmth in them.

    "Wake me up a week later," she murmured before closing her eyes, her breathing becoming shallower with each passing moment.

    I glanced at Dr. Casper, desperation clawing at me. His expression was grim as he worked, his hands moving quickly over Iris��s wounds.

    "This is bad," he muttered. "The venom��s spread too far... but how the hell is she still alive? Wraith venom should��ve killed her by now."

    He paused, frowning. "Her stigma kept the venom at bay, but it has worn off. But the venom''s spread is still slow."

    I reached out, touching one of her veins. Something felt... familiar. A sensation that ran deep into my blood.

    "Pendragon blood," I murmured, realization dawning. "Iris used some of my blood in her experiments... maybe it��s what��s slowing the venom."

    Dr. Casper��s eyes widened as the realization hit. "That could explain it. You and Iris share the same blood type. Your blood��s keeping her alive."

    "Minerva!" he barked. "Teleport us to Althea, now!"

    "Very well," her voice echoed all around us, and immediately a bright green flash filled my vision.

    The next thing I knew, we were in one of the private emergency rooms of Althea and a healer was escorting us out of the room.

    "What''s happening!" I demanded, shrugging off the healer and turning toward the Doc.

    "We need your blood for a transfusion. It might be the only thing that neutralizes the venom," he explained quickly, urgency in his voice. "Now hurry. We don��t have much time."

    I nodded, looking back at Iris one more time. Her face was barely visible beneath the oxygen mask, her torn uniform being carefully removed by the team.

    As I followed the healer out of the room, I whispered to myself, my heart pounding in my chest.

    "Please. You better not die, Iris."

    *******

    "You need sleep, Mordred."

    Gawain��s voice broke the tense silence of the waiting room, his eyes heavy with concern. He looked over to Guinevere, seeking her support.

    "Say something to him, Mother. It''s been two days, and he hasn��t slept a wink."

    Guinevere sighed softly, shaking her head with a tired smile. "It wouldn��t matter, Wain. He��s too stubborn to rest until he knows she��s out of danger."

    Her expression turned wistful as she continued, "It reminds me of your father. I still remember when Morg was gravely injured after a battle."

    "The healing took three days, and Arthur refused to sleep, watching over her the entire time."

    I stared at her, blinking in disbelief. "You��re talking about the High King? The same man I know?"

    She chuckled softly, amusement dancing in her eyes over the worrying sadness. "Oh, it''s true. Your father is a cold man, but when it came to Morgause�� he was human too."

    "Bullshit," I muttered under my breath, briefly distracted from the anxiety twisting in my gut.

    Her laugh was soft but genuine. "You��ll just have to see for yourself one day."

    Before I could respond, Artemis approached us, her face serious.

    She bowed to Guinevere. "Your Majesty."

    Guinevere smiled kindly. "Good to see you, Miss Fray."

    Artemis straightened and turned to me. "We��ve caught him. He was trying to flee into one of the hidden corridors."

    My chest tightened, and the anger I��d been keeping at bay began to stir again cold and simmering.

    "Where is he?" I asked, my voice deceptively calm, betraying the rage beneath the surface.

    "The Commander is interrogating him now," Artemis said, her eyes flicking downward for a moment. "Rather... rigorously."

    I rose from my seat and looked at her. "Take me to him."

    Artemis nodded, her expression hardening. "That��s why I��m here. The Commander requested you."

    I nodded. "Very well. Let''s go."

    As I started to follow her, Guinevere''s voice stopped me in my tracks. Her tone was edged with cold seriousness.

    "Mordred."

    I met her gaze. She didn��t need to say anything more��her eyes told me enough.

    "I��ll handle it, Mother," I said quietly, steadying my voice. "The doctor should come out with news soon. Stay here. I��ll return."

    Her expression softened slightly, but the worry remained. Without another word, I turned to Artemis.

    "Let��s go."

 84 Her Power

    "Hello, Mordred."

    Kay��s voice greeted me as I stepped into the interrogation room, the scent of blood thick in the air. He was wiping his hands clean with a towel, his expression eerily calm.

    He tossed the bloodied towel onto a table cluttered with pristine torture instruments, untouched.

    "Looks like you didn��t need these," I remarked, nodding toward the table.

    "He fessed up after a few blows to the nose," Kay replied, gesturing to the bound Deathwalker slumped in the chair.

    Even without the use of tools, Jeko Hess was a wreck��face swollen, blood leaking from his mouth and nose.

    Well, being on the receiving end of a Knight of the Round��s anger was probably worse than any blade or instrument of malice.

    I raised an eyebrow. "A few blows? Sure."

    Kay shrugged, his knuckles unmarred despite the violence they unleashed. "I got carried away. I was supposed to leave him intact for you."

    His voice hardened. "But Iris is my daughter. He��s lucky to still be in one piece."

    "Well, I��m not complaining." I leaned over Jeko, examining his broken, bloodied face. "Honestly, I think he looks better this way."

    Kay chuckled darkly as I turned back to him. "What did he spill?"

    "Like we thought. Her brothers." Kay��s voice was steady, but his eyes flickered with restrained fury.

    "Ambitious, aren��t they?" Artemis commented, strolling over to the table and picking up a scalpel. She twirled it absentmindedly between her fingers.

    "Collect a hundred of the deadliest wraiths, juice them up with a resistance to Purity flames and stakes, stuff them in a trapper, and blow the thing up in the bastard child��s face," she summarized, planting the scalpel into Jeko��s thigh without warning.

    His eyes snapped open, and his mouth stretched wide in a silent scream.

    "Oh, shut up," Artemis muttered, knocking him unconscious with a quick smack to the head.

    Both Kay and I stared at her. "Quite the summary," Kay remarked, sounding almost impressed.

    "She��ll make a good captain," he added, glancing at me.

    I shrugged, smirking. "Why do you think Iris and I keep her around?"

    Artemis frowned slightly. "I assumed it was because you two either want me to provoke each other or play mediator during your arguments."

    "That too," I admitted. But my gaze drifted back to Jeko Hess, and the familiar cold fury stirred in my chest, pulling my thoughts away from the banter.

    "So, what happens now?" I asked Kay, struggling to keep my voice level.

    Kay sighed as he straightened his jacket. "I��ll be drafting a report to His Majesty. House Karsus��s attempt endangered the Shield, the Deathwalkers, and ultimately, the world��s defense against the daemons."

    He paused, glancing at Jeko before adding, "And they endangered the High Queen and two High Princes. Such crimes demand execution."

    I blinked, caught off guard. "Two High Princes?"

    Kay sighed again. "Mordred, you were sentenced to the Shield, not stripped of your title. You��re still a High Prince."

    "Ah. Well, that��s�� reassuring." I allowed the sarcasm to slip through, though my mind had already moved back to Jeko.

    "Execution, huh?" My voice was quiet, but the rage beneath it was unmistakable.

    Kay nodded solemnly. "Immediate execution is warranted."

    I met his gaze. "Permission to carry that out, Commander?"

    He hesitated, then gave a single nod. "Permission granted."

    Kay turned toward the door, pausing briefly. "Make it painful," he said before disappearing down the corridor.

    As the door clicked shut, Artemis raised an eyebrow. "I guess we didn��t hear that from him?"

    "Indeed," I muttered, my eyes fixed on Jeko. "He never said a word."

    I took a step closer, feeling morbidly excited. "Let��s wake him up, shall we?"

    Artemis��s eyes glowed faintly as she reached for another scalpel, imbuing it with the swirling winds of Aeris.

    "This should do it," she said with a chilling smile, stabbing the scalpel into Jeko��s thigh, just inches from his groin.

    Jeko woke with a strangled scream, his body jerking in pain��only for me to clamp a hand over his mouth, silencing him.

    "Wakey wakey, Mr. Hess," I greeted, my voice dripping with false sweetness. His wild, panicked eyes met mine, full of fear.

    "Iris asked me to take care of you," I told him, a casual shrug accompanying the statement. "And I can��t say no to my love."

    I leaned in closer, my smile fading as I spoke quietly. "The Commander asked for your execution, too. So, I��ll be seeing that through."

    Blood appendages unfurled behind me, their crystallized tips gleaming dangerously in the dim light.

    "But here��s the problem. I��m angry. And that means your death won��t be quick, or pretty."

    Artemis��s Yoyo snapped taut in her hand, the black thread hissing as she pulled it back.

    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    I released Jeko��s mouth, letting my smile return.

    "There. Now you can scream."

    *******

    "You are quite the monster."

    Artemis remarked as we walked toward Althea, wiping the remaining blood off her face.

    "Gee. I wonder what gave it away?" I replied, letting the blood on my hands drip onto the corridor floor. I didn''t bother wiping my hands clean.

    Artemis gave me an impressed look. "You gave him the very same injuries that were inflicted on the Captain."

    "It was an experiment," I said with a shrug. "I wanted to see if he��d survive those injuries or if Iris was just special."

    "Well. One could survive having half your face ripped off by an angry High Prince but a gaping hole ripped through one''s torso? I doubt that is ideal for living," she pointed out.

    "I think the shock from the face tearing is what killed him," I mused.

    "Since when did you become a doctor?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

    I smiled. "Since I realized Gawain won''t always be there to heal me."

    Artemis smiled back. "You seem to be in a good mood after brutally killing Jeko Hess."

    "I''ll feel better when Iris jumps out of the room, ready to assault me," I replied.

    But as the words left my mouth, they rang hollow. She wouldn��t be fine after what she had been through. That much I knew.

    My smile faded as we entered Althea and saw Dr. Haytham standing with Guinevere, Gawain, Kay, and the rest of the Lunatics outside Iris��s room.

    "Mordred!" Guinevere called out, alarm crossing her face as she saw the blood on my arms.

    She walked over and gently took my hands in hers, examining them. "What happened?" Her worry was palpable.

    I gave her a strained smile. "I''m fine, Mother. The blood isn��t mine."

    She sighed in relief. "Ah. I was worried that man might��ve lashed out against you."

    Kay snorted from the side. "He��s not that weak, Your Majesty. He just likes the feel of blood on his skin."

    "That''s even more concerning," Guinevere retorted, exasperated. "What has the Shield done to you?"

    I chuckled. "I told you, Mother. I��m fine. Dr. Haytham is waiting for me."

    "Ah, yes. Casper was just starting to tell us. You arrived just in time," Guinevere said, and we made our way to the small crowd.

    "How is she, Doc?" I asked, the weight of dread settling in my stomach.

    Dr. Haytham''s expression was inscrutable as he glanced at each of us before speaking.

    "Her condition has stabilized. We��ve healed all the major wounds, and now her body is healing itself. The wraiths caused the wounds on her face. Fortunately, they did not leave scars. So, she��ll remain a beauty queen."

    Kay narrowed his eyes. "So you''re saying..."

    "Physically, she��s fine. But it will take at least a week for her to wake up, knowing the effects of her stigma," Dr. Haytham confirmed.

    "You said physically." My voice grew tense. "What did you mean by that?"

    Dr. Haytham''s eyes sharpened as he turned to me. "You caught on quickly," he remarked, his tone grave.

    "She''s physically fine. Mentally, I''m afraid things are more complicated."

    The sick feeling returned and I swallowed hard. "Define complicated."

    "We��ve detected abnormal brain activity," Dr. Haytham explained. "Particularly in the hippocampus, the area associated with memory."

    Kay frowned. "Her memories? How do her memories relate to this?"

    A chill crawled down my spine as realization hit.

    "Her stigma," I whispered.

    Everyone turned to me in confusion, except Dr. Haytham, who nodded.

    "Looks like you figured it out," he said, his voice laced with weariness.

    "I had my suspicions," I replied, dread growing with each second.

    "What are you talking about?" Kay demanded, frustration in his voice, echoing the confusion of the others.

    Dr. Haytham sighed and addressed Kay, "You��re familiar with the conditions for Coup de Grace, correct?"

    Kay nodded firmly. "Of course. Isn��t that why you said she��ll wake up in a week?"

    "Yes," Dr. Haytham agreed. "But think about it: the ability to kill anything with a single, unerring strike. An extraordinarily powerful ability, but one that comes with a heavy price."

    "Isn��t she already paying for it by cutting her life short each time she uses her stigma?" Kay argued, his voice rising.

    "Trading her life for that of her enemy''s��isn''t that sufficient?"

    Dr. Haytham shook his head. "Unfortunately, no. She has the power to vanquish gods, beings that shouldn��t be killable by any mortal."

    "Her life is simply not enough. There is one more price, There''s another cost, one more valuable than life itself to many."

    Guinevere��s eyes widened as the truth dawned on her. "Oh, Incarni... That''s insidious."

    She turned to Kay. "The stigma takes her memories."

    Kay looked between her, Dr. Haytham, and me. "What? How can that be? Wouldn��t it be obvious if her memories were being taken?"

    "That��s the insidious part, Commander," I interjected, feeling the weight of the truth in my chest.

    "Her stigma erases memories she never wanted to remember in the first place��memories of the abuse at the Karsus Estate, the horrors of the battlefield. Things she never wanted to face."

    "She never wanted to confront those memories, so their absence went unnoticed," I elaborated.

    Ava��s voice broke the tense silence. "But wouldn��t that be a blessing? To forget such horrors?"

    Dr. Haytham nodded. "You''re correct, Miss Baskerville. However, this time it''s different."

    "Only Purity Flames can truly destroy wraiths," he continued. "And yet, she obliterated every last one in that processing room."

    "Her stigma can only be employed once a week. How do you suppose she managed to dispatch them all?"

    Kay��s eyes widened in realization. "No. You can��t be saying..."

    "She used her stigma multiple times," Dr. Haytham confirmed, his tone heavy with finality.

    A shocked silence fell over us as we processed his words.

    "That��s not possible," Carlo muttered, shaking his head.

    "It is," Kay grumbled, his jaw clenched in fury. "For the right price."

    He stomped his foot, releasing a powerful wave of ardor.

    "That foolish child!"

    Dr. Haytham nodded. "The reason she could only use Coup de Grace once a week was to preserve her sanity and prevent significant memory loss. It was a limiter."

    His gaze darkened as he continued, "But Iris pushed beyond that limit��and paid the ultimate price."

    "She removed the limiter and became Death Incarnate."

    The moment the words left his lips, a powerful surge of ardor pulsed through the corridor. It was brief, but the intensity was overwhelming, forcing Apollo and Ava to their knees.

    Alarmed, we turned toward the room where Iris lay recovering.

    "What was that?" Krystal asked, her voice pitched higher with alarm.

    Kay and Guinevere exchanged incredulous looks. "No way. At a time like this?" Kay muttered under his breath.

    Guinevere nodded, her face grave. "I''m afraid so."

    My heart raced as I turned to her. "What is it, Mother? What just happened?"

    The High Queen regarded me with uncertainty.

    "Mordred�� Iris has just ascended to S rank."

 85 I Expected This. But Why Does It Hurt?

    "Have you heard about that new Deathwalker?"

    Apollo asked as he approached me, covered in blood and with his left arm chopped off but very much alive.

    "Hm?" I glanced up at him and scooted a little to let him sit beside me on the blood-soaked boulder.

    I was resting after a particularly intense battle against the daemons when he approached.

    The appearance of Abnormal daemons had intensified lately, wreaking havoc and claiming the lives of many Deathwalkers, veterans included.

    I lost my right leg below the knee after three nasty Abnormal daemons jumped me when I was cooking the fangs out of a wraith.

    I killed the three Abnormal daemons that jumped me, of course, but losing a leg still sucked.

    Fortunately, the remaining daemons retreated or got destroyed soon after my surprise amputation.

    "New Deathwalker?" I furrowed my brow as Apollo settled beside me. "We get rookies all the time. Why the interest in one Deathwalker?"

    "Cause she''s a tall and ultra gorgeous lady with fiery red hair and eyes," Apollo pointed out with a grin.

    I glanced at him skeptically. "Apollo, that sounds like the Incarnus of Ignis."

    "No, he''s right," came a voice, and Artemis appeared, somehow completely unscathed.

    She moved like a shadow, slipping into our conversation with ease. "There really is a striking Deathwalker with red hair and eyes."

    I frowned again. "And why are we talking about her again?"

    "Because we''ve never seen her in the Shield before," Artemis explained, her voice thoughtful. "Someone of her beauty��and age��would stick out."

    I rolled my eyes. "Again, why are we fixating on her?"

    "Cause she''s hot," Apollo declared with a smirk.

    Artemis let out a long-suffering sigh. "He has a thing for mature ladies."

    "No wonder you''re always trying to flirt with Dorothy," I teased, a small smile playing at my lips.

    Apollo''s grin widened. "And it''s working. She seems rather taken with me."

    "You''re delusional," Artemis countered, rolling her eyes.

    A silence settled over us, punctuated by the sounds of the battlefield and the cries of injured comrades being tended to by Scavengers and healers.

    "It''s been a week,", Artemis remarked, her tone tinged with melancholy.

    I cast my gaze over the field, observing the fallen and the wounded, as well as those standing with vacant expressions while the Scavengers and healers moved amongst them.

    "She''ll bounce back. I''m sure of it," Artemis offered, her voice carrying a note of hope. "She''s our captain, after all."

    "Yep!" Apollo chimed in, grinning despite his injury. "And when she wakes up, she''ll immediately assault you upon seeing your devilishly handsome face."

    I smiled. "Thanks, man. I feel a bit better now."

    "You were especially vicious today, against the wraiths," Artemis pointed out, her gaze sharpening.

    "Was I?" I asked, taken aback. Whenever I see a wraith, my vision tends to blur, and I don��t remember much afterward.

    She nodded, looking a little disturbed. "You eviscerated every single wraith that crossed your path. It was... intense."

    "Ah." I clenched my bloody fist. "Whenever I see one, I remember what they did to Iris, and I..."

    My voice broke and I gritted my teeth.

    "I should''ve been there for her."

    Artemis placed her own blood-soaked hands on top of mine.

    "Don''t blame yourself. I understand why you''d go berserk against those wraiths. But take a moment to think about it. It was all her brothers," she said softly.

    Her words grounded me, calming the storm inside a little. I unclenched my fists and exhaled. "Thanks, Artemis."

    "Speaking of her brothers," Apollo piped in. "I heard the outside world is in an uproar."

    "Silas and Cyrus Karsus were found guilty of conspiring to compromise the safety of the Shield and endangering the lives of three members of the royal family," he explained, his expression darkening.

    "And to make matters worse, evidence of illegal human experimentation was uncovered in the Karsus Estate."

    Artemis shuddered. "They were doing those fucked up experiments under the nose of the Duke."

    I raised an eyebrow. "And His Majesty��s verdict?"

    Apollo snorted. "Isn''t it obvious? Death by execution."

    "And the weird thing is," Artemis added, "Duke Karsus himself volunteered to execute them."

    She crossed her arms. "Truly a coldhearted man."

    "Interesting," I murmured and watched the healers approaching us.

    *******

    "It''s been a week."

    I said quietly to Iris, lying on the bed, still connected to life support systems.

    Her face, peaceful in her slumber remained spotless despite the horrific injuries that once marred her visage. Dr. Haytham and his team had done an amazing job.

    Using my blood, they were able to neutralize the wraith venom, reattach her severed hand, and heal her body completely in just two days.

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    "The Doc is really a miracle worker." I smiled, though the weight of my words pressed down like a leaden weight on my chest.

    My hand trembled as I gripped the side of her bed.

    The room seemed to close in around us, the silence broken only by the steady beep of the monitors tracking every shallow breath she took.

    "Iris," I whispered, my voice catching in my throat, "Please... wake up. You told me to wake you up."

    Nothing. Not even a flicker of her long eyelashes in response to my words, just as it had been for the entire week.

    I lingered, the mechanical hum of life support machines becoming my unwelcome companions, their monotonous rhythm gnawing at me.

    I couldn��t remember the last time I slept properly. The days had blended into a blur of waiting and worrying.

    The door slid open behind me, and I turned to see who had entered and blinked twice to register what I saw.

    It was a tall and gorgeous Deathwalker with fiery red hair and eyes. She wore the standard Deathwalker uniform and looked very good in it.

    Her gaze fell on me, and she smiled warmly.

    "Mordred," she greeted, her voice a gentle reassurance amidst the tension.

    I blinked. That voice...

    I know that voice and she looked very familiar.

    "Wait... Mother?" I stared in disbelief.

    She chuckled softly and snapped her fingers. In an instant, the fiery hue of her hair shifted to familiar golden locks, and her eyes softened into her familiar sapphire blue.

    "What��s up with the disguise?" I asked, still confused but starting to piece it together.

    "I needed to be useful if I was staying in the Shield for the week," Guinevere explained with a wink. "Turns out I still remember how to be a Deathwalker."

    She flexed her fingers, clearly pleased with herself. "I haven��t lost my touch."

    "You went into battle like that?" I asked, raising a brow.

    Guinevere nodded. "Of course. It wouldn��t do for the High Queen to be seen battling daemons and wraiths, now would it? Had to get Kay��s permission, but I twisted his arm enough."

    I sighed, shaking my head. "You should��ve gone back with Gawain. You didn��t need to stay."

    "And leave you here, consumed by anguish and anxiety?" She gave me a gentle smile. "Not a chance."

    Guinevere moved to sit beside me. "Gawain had to return to Avalon for his studies, but he would��ve stayed too, you know that."

    Concern furrowed my brow. "What about Trinity? Won��t she miss you?"

    Guinevere chuckled softly. "Trinity will manage just fine. I suspect Arth will relish having her around a bit longer."

    Her gaze shifted to Iris, her expression growing somber. "She hasn''t woken up yet?"

    I shook my head, the familiar knot tightening in my chest. "Not even a stir. I��m scared, Mother."

    Guinevere enveloped me in a comforting embrace. "It''s okay to be scared. But we must have faith. Fear not, my dear. She will wake up. I have faith in her strength."

    I clenched my fist, trying to keep my voice steady. "Even if she wakes up, what if she..."

    Guinevere pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. "Let''s just hope that will never happen."

    Then, with a mischievous glint in her eye, she added, "For now, you should enjoy the fact that my boobs are in your face."

    I groaned and pulled away from her embrace, rolling my eyes. "Mother, you��re married."

    She couldn''t suppress a giggle. "Oh, come on. A little humor never hurt anyone."

    I sighed, brushing her off. "You should really get back to Camelot. Your responsibilities��"

    "Oh, don��t worry. Morgan can handle it." She waved dismissively.

    I leveled a stare at her. "You''re quite the lousy queen."

    Guinevere shrugged with a grin. "I''ve always said your mum was a better queen than I''ll ever be."

    A soft, wistful smile crossed her lips. "She could go from fooling around in the training hall to commanding a room full of nobles like she was born for it."

    "Mum was a Locus user?" I asked, surprised.

    Guinevere laughed. "No, no. I just meant she was a natural leader."

    Suddenly, a faint gasp broke the air.

    I whipped around, eyes wide as I stared at the bed.

    Iris��s eyelashes fluttered.

    "Mother, get the Doc!" I blurted, heart hammering in my chest.

    "On it!" Guinevere was already halfway out the door as Iris��s eyes slowly fluttered open.

    I rushed to her side, watching as her body jerked upright, a violent cough racking through her.

    "Whoa! Whoa! Easy there," I supported her, guiding her as she coughed harder, her body trembling.

    Slowly, the fit subsided, and her eyes fluttered open, blinking in confusion. Her gaze wandered around the room before finally settling on me.

    For a moment, hope surged in my chest.

    "Iris..." My voice broke, a mixture of relief and anxiety washing over me.

    Relief that she was awake, but anxious as I noticed her bewildered expression, as if she didn''t recognize me.

    She blinked at me, her expression blank. "Where... where am I?" she rasped, her voice fragile.

    A knot formed in my throat, and I struggled to find the right words. "You''re in Althea, Iris. You... you were hurt. Pretty bad."

    I forced a nervous chuckle. "You gave me quite the scare."

    My gaze shifted to her blue eyes and my heart froze.

    Her eyes, usually so intense and filled with life, were vacant. Lost.

    Her expression was blank, a void where her identity should have been.

    She tilted her head in confusion.

    "I''m sorry. Who is Iris?" she asked, her voice trembling with uncertainty.

    The air seemed to leave my lungs, my heart seizing painfully in my chest.

    "You... you''re Iris," I replied, struggling to keep my voice steady.

    This must be a joke. She must be messing with me.

    But there was no flicker of recognition in her eyes, no spark of remembrance. She looked at me as if I were a stranger.

    "Iris, it��s me. Mordred." My voice cracked, desperation slipping in.

    She shook her head, her brow furrowed. "I''m sorry. I don''t know you."

    Her words hit me like a blow from Asphodel. A knot formed in my throat, choking back the emotions threatening to overwhelm me.

    My breathing became heavy, my vision blurred, and my hands shook as I gripped the edge of her bed, fighting to stay grounded.

    I forced a smile, though it felt more like a mask.

    "Oh my. Is that so? But I''m a friend," I spoke, my voice steadier than ever.

    Iris looked at me with confusion and uncertainty, her eyes searching for something familiar in my face.

    "A friend?" she echoed.

    I nodded stiffly, the motion feeling mechanical.

    "Yes. A friend. Now if you''ll excuse me," I said, my voice trailing off as I turned away, my legs moving on their own as I reached the door.

    As I reached the door, I stepped aside to let Dr. Haytham and the healers rush into the room.

    Ignoring their presence, I stepped out into the cold, sterile corridor.

    I leaned against the wall, my legs suddenly weak, the weight of my grief pressing down on me like a tidal wave

    "Mordred?"

    Guinevere��s voice broke through the haze. She stood before me, her concern evident, but as our eyes met, the facade of her calm crumbled.

    Tears welled in her eyes as she reached for me.

    "Mother," I whispered, my voice barely a breath as I stumbled forward, the weight of my grief threatening to crush me.

    Swift as the wind, Guinevere enveloped me in her arms as I surrendered to the overwhelming tide of emotions that raged inside me.

    I had expected this. Somewhere deep down, I had prepared for this.

    But why does it hurt so much?

    So I wept in Guinevere''s arms, my crying echoing off the cold corridor walls.

 86 Bargaining

    "Iris lost all of her memories."

    Dr. Haytham stated gravely, his voice carrying the weight of the news.

    "Thanks for stating the obvious, doctor," I replied dryly in a hoarse voice, sinking back into the comfort of the couch in Kay''s office.

    The Commander had called for me, the Doc and Mother to talk about Iris as soon as he heard the news of her awakening.

    Kay interlocked his fingers on the desk, his expression deeply concerned. "How much has been lost?" he inquired

    Dr. Haytham''s demeanor remained solemn as he responded, "Everything, except for the basic functions necessary for her survival."

    "It would''ve been quite awkward to teach her again the art of wiping the bum after a dump," he added.

    "So she''s lost all memory of her past and everything leading up to the attack?" Guinevere sought clarification, her intuition picking up on Kay''s subtle reaction to the wrong-time joke.

    Dr. Haytham nodded somberly. "I''m afraid so," he confirmed.

    "Is there any way to recover her memories?" Kay asked.

    The doctor''s response was disheartening. "If this were a normal case of extreme amnesia, then I could''ve helped her regain her memories with certain triggers," he explained.

    "But none of them worked. This is the work of her stigma."

    He continued, his expression growing graver. "There were about a hundred wraiths in the room with her, and she didn''t have spark gloves. She used her stigma on every wraith."

    "That much power... Her stigma took away everything that made her Iris," he concluded, the weight of the realization evident in his tone.

    Haytham sighed deeply. "A stigma is a supernatural ability, and it''s something we hardly know about."

    As the gravity of the situation sank in, I leaned forward, seeking clarification. "So you''re saying..."

    The doctor nodded, his gaze focused. "I have a theory. Something I came up with while waiting for Iris to wake up."

    He paused, gathering his thoughts before continuing. "Let''s say that Iris''s stigma took away her memories. But instead of deleting her memories, her stigma has sealed them away into one corner of her mind with a lock and key."

    "The problem is, we have no idea who holds the key," he continued. "Even if we somehow reach that corner of Iris''s mind containing her stolen memories, we still won''t be able to do anything."

    I nodded slowly, the weight of the situation settling heavily upon me. "So without the key..."

    "Not even the Incarnus of Lux could restore her memories," Guinevere finished, her voice heavy with resignation.

    "The Incarnus of Lux?" I asked, looking at her. Why did mother bring up the lost goddess of light?

    She nodded. "When an Incarnus assumes their position, they choose a certain concept to govern and control. For example, the Incarnus of Haema is the goddess of Madness."

    "Similarly, the Incarnus of Lux is the goddess of Restoration. She can restore anything to its original form. It''s like the ultimate form of healing using ardor," she explained.

    A small spark of hope ignited within me amidst the darkness of my despair. "So the Incarnus could bring back her memories?"

    "Theoretically, yes," Dr. Haytham agreed, though his expression remained grim. "But we would still need the key to unlock her sealed memories."

    "And also," he added, "we have no idea about the whereabouts of the Incarnus of Lux."

    The spark of hope flickered as uncertainty returned. "So, even if we could find the Incarnus of Lux, it will be futile without the key?"

    "That''s correct," Dr. Haytham confirmed. "The Incarnus of Lux has the power to restore her memories, but without the key, those memories remain inaccessible."

    Guinevere placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. "We will do everything we can to find a solution, Mordred. We won''t give up on Iris."

    I gave her a small smile. "Thank you, Mother."

    But as the discussion about bringing back Iris''s memories continued, a small voice whispered in the depths of my mind.

    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    What if this is better for Iris?

    She no longer has the memories of her past and the things she experienced in the Shield before the attack.

    Doesn''t that mean she is no longer subjected to her traumatic past and the horrors she experienced in Blood Valley?

    Then isn''t this a chance?

    A chance for Iris to start anew, free from the burdens of her past?

    I wonder.

    Was it better this way? Better for Iris to forget the pain and suffering she had endured, to leave behind the nightmarish ghosts of her past?

    A part of me vehemently opposed this thought.

    It would mean burning away the time we spent together. The pranks we played, the battles we fought, the petty squabbles, and the times we embraced each other, our lips pressed together in a kiss.

    It would mean erasing the person she had become and the bond we had forged.

    But another part of me, the part that couldn''t bear to see her suffer, wondered if a fresh start now was the best thing for her.

    Could I let go of the past for her sake? Could I let her begin again, even if it meant losing the memories of our shared moments?

    The conflict within me was tearing me apart. I clasped my hand on my heart.

    Fuck! It''s so painful!

    "Mordred! What''s wrong?" Guinevere''s face appeared in my vision, her expression filled with worry.

    I snapped back to reality and blinked, gazing into her concerned blue eyes.

    "I''m fine, Mother," I reassured her. "I was just thinking of something."

    I then looked at Dr. Haytham. "So, there''s no way to recover her memories?"

    He shook his head. "Unfortunately, none at the moment."

    "The only thing we can do is tell her who she is, where she came from, why she is in the Shield, and reintroduce everyone to her," he suggested.

    "We''ll also have to retrain her in combat and the use of ardor. That won''t be difficult. Even if her mind doesn''t know, her body remembers the movements of her skills. Plus, she is a genius, even if she doesn''t know about it now."

    Dr. Haytham looked at Kay. "That''s the best thing we can do."

    The Commander of the Deathwalkers turned his gaze to me. "What do you think, Mordred?"

    Everyone had their eyes on me. The weight of their expectations was heavy, but I knew that this decision had to be made with Iris''s best interests at heart.

    The internal conflict raged within me, but I pushed it aside, focusing on what needed to be done.

    "I think..." I started, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "I think we need to give her a chance to start over."

    Kay arched his eyebrows. "Start over?"

    I nodded. "We tell her who she is��Iris Lefay, the Fairy of Tenebris and Hero of the Shield. But we do not tell her about her past, her traumatic childhood with her family, or the horrors she suffered as a Deathwalker."

    Guinevere''s eyes widened as she realized where I was going. "Mordred, are you suggesting..."

    I nodded affirmatively. "Indeed, Mother. Iris should leave the Shield."

    There was a silence as my words sank in.

    Kay let out a sigh. "Mordred, I''m afraid that is not possible."

    "Why?" I looked him in the eyes. "You said she is like your daughter. Then why are you saying that?" I asked, even though deep down I knew the answer.

    "Because she is a criminal, Mordred," Kay said in a difficult voice. "She murdered two members of her family��two high-ranking members of society. In the eyes of the law, she is a criminal, and her punishment is to be a Deathwalker."

    My hands shook as I spoke my next words. "Her sentence could be reduced."

    "Her sentence is already reduced," Kay retorted. "The High King reduced it as much as he could after learning of her circumstances. Not even he could change it again," he said with a resigned sigh.

    I looked at Guinevere. "Mother, you''re the High Queen."

    She shook her head with a dismayed look. "I''m sorry, Mordred. Even I am not above the law. Not even Arthur. He decides the sentence, but he cannot alter it in any way after it is decided."

    The reality of the situation hit me like a blow.

    "Is there any other way?" I asked, desperation creeping into my voice.

    A painful silence ensued, broken by Dr. Haytham''s voice.

    "There is a way," he said, looking at me intently. "A method to let Iris leave early."

    "Haytham, are you aware of what you''re suggesting?" Kay asked in a dangerous tone.

    "Of course I am," Dr. Haytham replied, meeting his gaze. "But it depends on whether Mordred is ready to do his part."

    "What do you mean?" I asked, stepping forward. "If there''s a way, I''ll do anything."

    Kay, Guinevere, and Dr. Haytham exchanged glances, a silent understanding passing between them.

    "Haytham, Your Majesty, can you wait outside for a moment?" Kay asked.

    "Kay, this better not be that," Guinevere spoke in a dangerous tone.

    The Commander sighed. "It is up to Mordred. Please, Guinevere."

    It was the first time I had ever heard Kay address Guinevere by her name. If the Commander was pleading with the High Queen, then this was serious.

    They stared at each other for a moment before Guinevere sighed. "Fine. Come on, Casper."

    She turned to me. "Mordred, think carefully before making a decision."

    A small smile appeared on her face. "I''ll support whatever decision you make."

    With that, she and Dr. Haytham left the room.

    Kay got up from his seat and walked over to me, his blue eyes gazing down at me.

    "Mordred, let''s talk."

 87 See You Again

    "What was the Doc talking about?"

    I asked, looking into Kay''s icy blue eyes.

    "Something that can be done to ensure Iris''s early departure from the Shield," he replied, sighing heavily. "But speaking as your uncle, I don''t want you to do this."

    I raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

    "Because doing so will affect you as well," he said, striding past me to gaze out the window.

    It was a clear sky outside with the sun shining high above, a rare day in Les Anciennes.

    Suddenly, the daemon alarm blared around us. I glanced at my bracelet. Our Unit had a scheduled battle today.

    "Of all times..." I muttered, then noticed my bracelet wasn''t blinking.

    "I asked Minerva to exchange your Unit''s battle schedule with Unit 05," Kay said, turning toward me.

    "Vanis won''t be pleased with that," I remarked, picturing the stoic and icy captain of Unit 05.

    Kay shrugged. "Iris once saved her life from an Abnormal. Vanis owes her."

    I raised my head to look at him. "You cannot send Iris to the battlefield."

    I pointed toward the door of his office, where the battlefield lay. "If you send her to fight the daemons, she won''t last a day, even with retraining."

    "So tell me, uncle. What is this method?" I met his gaze, determination in my eyes.

    Kay''s expression was conflicted. "It has been called two things: the most selfless act a Deathwalker can do for their comrade and something that no sane Deathwalker would do."

    He paused before saying the words.

    "Sentence Exchange."

    My brow furrowed. "Sentence Exchange?"

    Kay nodded solemnly. "Exactly. When a Deathwalker approaches the end of their term in the Shield, they typically have two choices: to depart or to remain."

    He raised a finger. "Or there is a third option. Exchange their ending sentence with another Deathwalker."

    I stared at him. "Now that is mental."

    Kay''s gaze didn''t waver. "It is. It means the Deathwalker agrees to exchange their remaining short sentence with another."

    I took a moment to process his words. "So, I could take on Iris''s sentence, and she would get mine which will be over in a few weeks?"

    "Yes," Kay confirmed. "But you must know this, Mordred," Kay asserted.

    "Iris''s final year as a Deathwalker consists of daily battles against the daemons."

    "She mentioned something about that once." I frowned, trying to recall her exact words. "Something about her brothers demanding conditions to make her life miserable."

    Kay nodded. "If you do the sentence exchange, you will have to fight her battles."

    I let out a chuckle. "And you are worried about me? What have you done with the Commander?"

    I stepped forward and met his gaze. "Uncle, you never really cared for me. You only taught me the art of the blade because of your obligation to my mum."

    "You don''t have to worry about me. I''ll handle the daily battles. I am no longer that weak child."

    Kay''s gaze hardened. "Iris doesn''t remember, and yet you''re willing to do this for her?"

    I nodded, unwavering. "Yes. She might not remember, but I do. I remember everything she''s done for me, everything we''ve been through together. Her memories might be gone, but she''s still Iris."

    "Shouldn''t you at least tell her who you are to her?" Kay asked, his voice slightly raised.

    A bittersweet smile tugged at my lips as I contemplated those words.

    I shook my head. "The memories we have of each other are intertwined with the horrors and suffering she faced as a Deathwalker."

    "Revealing our relationship would also mean revealing the very horrors she escaped by losing her memories," I stated.

    Kay''s frustration was palpable. "She won''t even realize what you did for her. She won''t grieve if you die!"

    "I don''t care!" I yelled. "At least she will be fine!"

    I sneered, feeling the bitterness well up inside me. "If I die, then that''s good. At least the sacrifice of my miserable life would benefit someone."

    "MORDRED!" Kay''s voice shook the room. "Don''t you know the value of your life?!"

    "My life?" I let out a bitter laugh.

    "I''M THE FAILED PRINCE! THE DISGRACE OF THE PENDRAGONS!" I bellowed.

    Placing a hand on my chest, I continued. "And I''m a Deathwalker! An irredeemable monster bathed in the blood of others!"

    "And so is Iris! She''s just as irredeemable as you!" Kay shot back.

    "I know!" I stamped my foot, releasing a shockwave of ardor. "But hasn''t she paid enough?"

    "Her body is covered in the scars of her battles against the daemons, and the horrors of the battlefield and the voices of the dead shattered her mind."

    I clenched my fist. "Every night, she wakes up screaming, and even in her sleep, she cries out in despair for forgiveness. Her nightmares are worse than mine."

    "She destroyed her body every time she used her stigma. She destroyed her mind every time she used that accursed ability as it chipped away at her memories."

    "And now she doesn''t even know who she is! Hasn''t she paid enough?" My voice cracked as I asked him that question.

    Kay''s expression was resolute and his eyes remained stern. "And you think taking her place will change that? You think you can save her by sacrificing yourself?"

    "Yes," I said firmly. "She deserves a chance at a new life, free from the torment she''s endured. Even if she never knows what I did for her, it''s worth it."

    We glared at each other for a moment before he sighed. "Fine. If that''s what you wish, I will approve the Sentence Exchange."

    Shaking his head, he approached his desk, muttering, "Like father, like son."

    Settling into his chair, he looked at me. "Now that we''ve decided on the Sentence Exchange, there''s one more thing to discuss."

    I gave him a puzzled look. "And what is that?"

    "What happens to Iris after she leaves the Shield."

    "Isn''t that up to Iris?" I asked, stepping closer to Kay.

    He raised his eyebrows. "Do you think she''s in the right state of mind to plan anything now?"

    I winced. "You''re right, but do we have the right to decide for her?"

    Kay snorted. "I am her guardian, and you are the closest person to her heart."

    "I was," I said bitterly.

    "But she confided in you her wishes, right?" Kay asked.

    Our conversation in the Tomb resurfaced in my mind. "She wants to open a cafe."

    He blinked in surprise. "That''s... quite interesting."

    "So, what will happen to her?" I asked anxiously.

    Kay leaned back. "Well, now that she''ll be released early, I must inform His Majesty to arrange her knighthood ceremony."

    I was taken aback. "Knighthood?"

    Kay smiled, which shocked me even further. "Minerva simulated a scenario where the wraiths escaped from the processing room. They caused untold devastation."

    "Iris single-handedly saved the Shield while sacrificing herself in the process. The High King took notice and has decided to knight her."

    I stared at him. "That means?"

    Kay nodded. "She will become a noble in her own right and can form her own faction or noble family."

    "House Lefay," I said, a small smile tugging at my lips. However, a sudden thought wiped it off my face.

    "But. Where will she go?" I asked.

    "She can''t go back to the Karsus Estate. She told me she would never step foot into that place." I pointed out.

    "And she will not. There is no Karsus Estate." Kay said.

    I blinked. "What?"

    He tilted his head. "Haven''t you heard? Duke Karsus decided to step down from his position. The Karsus Duchy will be taken over by a new Axial Family."

    "That''s news!" I remarked.

    Kay sighed, "Incarni! I need to tell Minerva to relax about the restriction on communication with the outside world."

    "So yeah. The Karsus Duchy is no more. No one knows why Duke Karsus decided to step down."

    He frowned. "The strange thing is, he decided to give away all of his accumulated wealth and assets to Iris."

    I scoffed. "Now he is trying to be a father?"

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    The Commander shook his head. "I have no idea. Perhaps Iris is the only living member of the Karsus Family apart from him. So I guess she would inherit his wealth?"

    "I see," I murmured.

    Kay observed my reaction. "You don''t have a problem with that? Duke Karsus giving away his wealth to Iris."

    I shrugged. "Not particularly. Sure, I hate that guy. That bastard killed Iris''s mother and never cared for her. But money is money. It will greatly benefit Iris."

    "You''re right." Kay agreed and looked at me. "Iris would need a place to stay. Somewhere a bit isolated, a safe place for her to recover."

    I smiled.

    "Uncle. Can you search for a good place on Blackrose Island?"

    *******

    "Are you sure about this?"

    Artemis asked as she aimed a kick at my face.

    I blocked the ardor-laden strike and grabbed her leg. She twisted her body and made me lose grip.

    She aimed to lock my head between her legs but I swiftly ducked to the side and struck at her stomach.

    She crossed her arms to protect herself but the force blew her away.

    "Sure about what?" I asked.

    Winds surrounded Artemis as she used Aeris and stopped herself from crashing into the wall of the sparring court.

    As soon as her legs hit the floor, she shot forward with a powerful burst of wind.

    "The Sentence Exchange." she struck out at my side. I shifted back and parried the attack with my fist.

    But she wasn''t done.

    Artemis pivoted, using the momentum to deliver a spinning kick aimed at my head. I ducked under it and retaliated with a swift jab toward her midsection.

    She deflected my punch with her forearm and countered with a series of rapid strikes, each one laced with ardor. "And also sending her to Blackrose Island."

    I sidestepped and avoided an ardor-laden punch. "How many times have you asked these questions?" I asked back, grabbing her wrist, twisting it, and flipping her to the ground.

    Artemis rolled with the fall and sprang back up, surrounded by glowing gusts of wind.

    "You haven''t given a proper answer." She aimed a high kick at my side, but I jumped back and her boot swept past my chest.

    Ducking forward, I unleashed a powerful punch which she barely dodged.

    "Yes. I am pretty sure. This is the best for Iris," I said, blocking her next attack and dealing a precise kick that connected with her stomach, sending her stumbling back.

    "But what about you?" She caught her balance and shot forward, a burst of wind accelerating her movement.

    "Fighting daemons and wraiths daily can break a person. Both the body and mind," she said, unleashing a rapid barrage of punches.

    I parried them all effortlessly, our hands becoming a blur of ardor and shockwaves. "I''ll be fine." I smacked her fist away, leaving her vulnerable.

    I wasted no time and landed a powerful blow to her ribs.

    Artemis let out a painful grunt accompanied by the cracking of bone, but she grabbed my arm and pulled. She balled her fist and placed it in the path of my face.

    I tilted my head to the side, her fist grazing my ear, and dealt a knee strike to her stomach.

    She staggered with a painful cough, and I seized the advantage.

    I unleashed a furious assault on her, each precise and quick blow forcing her back as she blocked them.

    Breathing heavily, Artemis tried to regain her footing, but I was already upon her, my strikes relentless and coated in a deadly layer of ardor.

    Time to end this. I quickly ducked low, swept her legs out from under her, and pinned her to the ground.

    I looked into her golden eyes as she lay on the floor, heaving and out of breath.

    "This is her last day in the Shield," she rasped, "and you haven''t gone to meet her since she woke up."

    I didn''t answer and turned away from her. Her next words froze me in my tracks.

    "You''re scared, aren''t you?"

    I stood there for a moment, my back toward her. I clenched my jaw and flexed my fist.

    "Looks like I will be getting a knuckle sandwich," Artemis remarked with a chuckle as I turned around to face her as she sat on the ground.

    I unclenched my fist and held out my arm toward her, much to her surprise.

    I sighed as I helped her up. "Yes. I am scared."

    My voice trembled as I spoke. "I am afraid that I will crumble if I see her like that again."

    Artemis''s eyes softened, and she hugged me. "She''ll be fine."

    Her lips curled into a smile. "I heard even the High Queen helped with the arrangements."

    I nodded. "Indeed. Mother has assigned a Phantom Knight to Iris."

    She looked surprised. "But aren''t Phantom Knights only assigned to the Royal Family?"

    I responded with a nod. "Yes. When a royal is born, they are immediately assigned a Phantom Knight."

    "And the confinement in the Dawn Palace prevented me from getting one."

    Artemis''s eyes widened. "Wait. So that means..."

    "Iris got my Phantom Knight. Mother made sure of that the moment she returned to the Royal Palace," I said.

    "That would ensure her safety," Artemis nodded and smiled. "I also heard she acquired the entire fortune of the Karsus Family."

    "All that wealth is still not enough compensation for what that sorry excuse of a father did," she added drily.

    I nodded in agreement. "True. But wealth isn''t the only thing Iris is receiving. The Commander is legally adopting her."

    "Double bonus!" she remarked as we walked toward the door.

    "Looks like she will be fine." Artemis continued and gave me a look. "But I ask you again. Are you fine?"

    Before I could answer, the door opened, and standing there was Carlo with an odd expression on his face.

    "What is it, Carlo?" I asked, noticing his expression.

    "She''s leaving," he answered.

    I stared at him and closed my eyes. "I see."

    "And she asked to see you," he added.

    I blinked. "What? But she doesn''t remember me!"

    Carlo sighed. "Stop yapping and get to the reception. She''s waiting for you."

    Artemis and I exchanged puzzled glances.

    What the heck?

    *******

    The crowd was huge.

    Dozens of Deathwalkers were gathered at the door leading to the reception area.

    "What the heck is this?" I asked as we got closer to the throng.

    Carlo sighed. "They want to see Iris, the Hero of the Shield before she leaves."

    I shrugged. "Well, she did save the Shield. I kind of expected this."

    But damn! That''s a huge crowd, and I''m starting to get jealous. Even if she doesn''t remember me, I still love her.

    So get your filthy eyes away from her!

    That''s what I would''ve said as we reached the crowd.

    The ones at the back noticed me and immediately parted, whispering and staring in surprise.

    Deathwalkers cleared a path as Carlo, Artemis, and I made our way to the reception room.

    "It''s Mordred Pendragon!"

    "I heard he did a Sentence Exchange with the Fairy."

    "No way!"

    "He''s a mad prince, I say!"

    Whispers surrounded me as we walked past the Deathwalkers. But I paid no mind to them. My focus was on the person waiting beyond those doors.

    A team of Deathwalkers stood guard at the doors, trying to control the crowd.

    When they saw me, they gave a nod of understanding and cleared the way.

    "Better hurry, Vice Captain Mordred. Her transport is getting ready," one of them told me before resuming her duties.

    I nodded and stood before the doors. My heart pounded against my chest, and everything around me turned silent.

    Anxiety and dread coiled inside me like a snake, slowly crushing my insides.

    My hand hovered over the door handle, and I turned to look at Artemis and Carlo.

    They nodded and came right behind me. Carlo placed a hand on my shoulder. "Go on, Vice Cap."

    I took a deep breath and steadied my trembling hands. Grasping the handle, I pushed open the door and strode inside.

    Only to freeze in my tracks.

    The room was unnaturally quiet. An oppressive silence replaced the usual bustle in this area.

    As I took a step inside, my eyes fell on Iris sitting on the couch, her gaze distant as she stared at the symbol of the Pendragons engraved on the huge main doors.

    Her posture was relaxed and regal, accentuated by the outfit she wore.

    My heart stopped and went cold as I recognized what she was wearing.

    A light blue shirt and gray pants underneath a black long coat��the very same outfit she wore when we first kissed on the Tomb''s cold peak.

    My insides and heart twisted into a painful knot.

    What kind of cruel joke is this?

    Hearing my footsteps, she glanced at me. Her eyes, once filled with an insane and mischievous light, were now softer and emptier.

    She seemed like a different person; even the crazy and powerful aura that once surrounded her had changed.

    Iris gave me an uncertain smile and stood up. "Hello," she said, her voice soft and regal yet uncertain as she bowed. "It is an honor to meet you, Your Highness."

    I swallowed hard and forced a smile. "Nice to meet you, Iris Lefay."

    My voice came out steadier than I felt, but it felt hollow, each word a struggle against the emotions threatening to overwhelm me.

    "I am truly glad to meet you, Your Highness," she said, her eyes searching mine for something she couldn''t quite grasp.

    "The doctor told me we were quite close," she frowned as she tried to find any memory we had together. "He said we''re friends."

    What the heck did you tell her, you quack!

    Her blue eyes flickered with something like frustration, a furrow forming between her brows. "I''m sorry," she said, her voice tinged with sadness and frustration, "I just... I don''t remember anything."

    "It''s fine," I said as I moved closer, resisting the urge to reach out and touch her, "Yeah. We''re friends."

    Her eyes lit up, and for a second, I saw the old Iris, looking excited for another thrilling battle.

    It was for a second, but I saw her, and it broke my heart further.

    "That''s wonderful," she bowed again. "I don''t remember it, but thank you for being there for me."

    She straightened up and gave me a bright and confident smile. "I will be sure to repay you when we meet again."

    I gave her a confused smile. "Meet again?"

    She nodded. "You will get out of here, right? Please pay me a visit when you are free."

    Again, the old Iris flashed before me.

    I stared at the girl standing before me, the one having the same confident smile as the girl I fell for. I nodded. "Yes. I will."

    Just then, the massive doors of the main entrance opened, revealing Kay standing outside, tiny snowflakes falling gently on his pristine suit.

    His icy blue eyes fell on me, and he nodded.

    I nodded back. It''s time.

    "Miss Iris. Your transport is ready," Kay said, his voice bold but still soft.

    Iris turned around and nodded to the Commander. "Very well."

    She turned back to me. "I guess it''s time to leave," she said with a nervous chuckle.

    I nodded, my heart aching at the thought of her leaving, of the lost memories we shared. "Yep," I responded. "All the best out there."

    She nodded, a hint of nervousness beneath the facade of confidence she put up. "Thank you, Your Highness."

    Those words plunged into my crumbling heart like an icy dagger, threatening to shatter me, but I kept my cool.

    Just as she turned to leave, I called out to her one last time in a trembling voice. "Iris?"

    She turned back, puzzled.

    "Take care of yourself," those words that escaped my lips were barely a whisper.

    She gave me a small, uncertain smile and nodded. "I will. You too, Your Highness."

    With that, she walked toward the open doors and stood beside Kay.

    "Goodbye! See you again!" she waved her hand as the doors slowly closed.

    I nodded with a painful smile as the doors closed, providing a final glimpse of the bright blue of her hair.

    "See you again," I whispered.

    Silence enveloped us again.

    Artemis and Carlo approached and stood beside me.

    "She''ll be okay," Carlo said with a sad smile.

    I nodded, my movements mechanical. "Yeah. She will."

    Artemis gave me a sideways glance, her expression unchanged. "I ask you again, Captain. Are you fine?"

    I nodded again. Cold tears slid down my face, and I felt a smile on my lips.

    "Yeah. I am fine."

 88 Bells

    [Artemis Fray]

    I''ve always hated bells.

    Not because they''re loud, not because of the weird sounds they make, or even because they tend to fall on people.

    No.

    I''ve always hated bells because, during the misfortunes of my life, they''ve always rung like a sick herald.

    The bells of a Sanctuary of Light rang loudly in the night just before my home burned down with my parents still inside.

    The bell at the school Apollo and I attended rang unnaturally long before we received the news of Damien''s sentence to the Shield.

    The bell of an ice cream cart owned by a kindly old man rang like an eerie harbinger when Apollo and I received our sentences.

    That same bell rang on the day we learned of Damien''s death, the old man''s kindly smile a cruel mockery of my wretched life.

    As a Deathwalker, hearing the bells is never a good thing. They herald the arrival of the vile creatures from the Tear.

    "The most advanced arsenal in the world, and we still rely on bells dating back to Bran the Conqueror," I grumbled, glancing up at the ancient bells instead of the daemons whose arrival they signaled.

    Their massive, weathered forms swayed back and forth, releasing deep, resonant tones that echoed across the valley like mournful wails.

    They were more like funeral bells than warning bells.

    "Those bells have been here since the Shield was first established," Ava said. "Apparently, they release a certain frequency that helps weaken the daemons."

    "Weaken the daemons? Well, I say they''re doing a very poor job of that," I scoffed.

    She shrugged. "The results are very slight."

    "Right," I rolled my eyes. "They should replace those antiques with sirens. They''d be more effective."

    "Well, they do sound like funeral bells," Apollo quipped.

    "Thank you," I said, giving him a grateful look.

    Carlo sighed. "I don''t think it will be easy to change that. Ringing those bells has become a sort of ancient tradition in the Shield."

    "Tradition won''t help us fight the daemons or bring back the dead," I grumbled, then turned to our Captain. "What do you think?"

    "I think we should focus on the approaching daemons," he replied, his crimson eyes filled with cold hatred as he stared at the creatures emerging from the Tear.

    "Not even curious?" Krystal asked, hopping up and down as a warm-up.

    He shrugged. "Don''t care."

    The bells rang faster and he adjusted his bow. "Be careful out there and don''t turn into a wraith. I''d hate to have to brutally kill you guys."

    I sighed. "We''ll be fine. Just don''t go overboard this time. The things you do are so horrifying even the wraiths are afraid of you."

    "As they should be," he replied, notching an arrow into his bow.

    "They''re here. Get ready." He pulled back the drawstring just as the screaming began��the daemons had started their slaughter.

    I activated Aeris, spinning my Yoyo and coating its string with ardor and swirling air.

    Ice crackled as numerous ice spikes materialized around Krystal.

    As she assumed the Baskerville fighting stance, silver flames covered Ava''s metal claws.

    Water swirled around the jagged edges of Apollo''s chained blades as he channeled Aqua.

    Blood glowed crimson as it swirled around the Captain, forming a layer over the black arrow he aimed at the approaching daemons.

    His mechanima, the white serpent Basil, coiled around his body and bared her fangs, her shimmering scales undulating as she adjusted her size, ready for battle.

    "Unit 21. Let''s go," his voice was cold and filled with a carefully restrained rage as he released the arrow.

    A whistling sound pierced the air, heralding our advance as we rushed at the daemons, swift as shadows.

    The arrow struck a twenty-foot-tall daemon in the face and exploded, enveloping the creature''s upper half in a crimson blast.

    As the daemon staggered backward, I leaped, releasing powerful bursts of wind beneath my boots to propel me upward as if I were jumping in midair, reaching the creature''s height.

    Swift as the wind, I quickly ensnared the daemon''s regenerating, oozing head with my ardor-enhanced threads and pulled.

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    The daemon''s body jerked backward and crashed to the ground.

    Lightning crackled above me as Carlo descended onto the fallen daemon, plunging his lightning-enhanced claymore into the creature''s heart.

    I swiftly retrieved my threads and darted away just as the daemon exploded into darkness, releasing a wailing wraith.

    The wraith spun through the air momentarily before dissipating with a haunting wail, having failed to possess anyone.

    I landed on the bloody snow and scanned the battlefield.

    "Vice cap! Heads up!" Krystal yelled out through the sounds of battle.

    I twisted around just in time to see a battleax-wielding daemon unleash a deadly strike at me.

    I swiftly jumped to the side and the blade almost grazed my boots.

    I ducked to avoid another powerful strike and approached the daemon from behind.

    Swiftly wrapping the string around its legs, I yanked. The dark creature fell face downward as its legs separated from the rest of its body.

    Twirling my fingers, I manipulated the trajectory of the Yoyo toward its chest.

    The hidden blades sprang out from inside the Yoyo just as it went through the daemon''s chest, ripping into its heart.

    I quickly fled away as the fallen daemon convulsed and exploded into a raging ball of darkness, releasing a wraith that wailed like crazy before dissipating into nothing.

    I slowed down and caught my breath.

    It was pure chaos around me.

    Daemons flickered here and there, swinging their weapons with deadly precision, their only aim to deliver a brutal and swift death onto the Deathwalkers.

    Rivers of blood flowed, skin and flesh were torn from the bodies of Deathwalkers, bones broke and shattered, limbs were ripped off, and heads rolled on the ground.

    Loud explosions boomed all around, from the projectiles hitting their targets to daemons exploding into destructive balls of darkness.

    Screams and yells filled the frigid air of the valley, resonating with screams of pain and agony, as well as the cries of the crimson smoke that escaped with each daemon''s death, and the unholy screams of those possessed by the wraiths, whose bodies contorted into grotesque killing machines.

    And even amidst this chaos, the bells continued to ring.

    Somebody just shut them up, please.

    Suddenly, I sensed a presence behind me and quickly jumped out of the way as a huge spear plunged into the ground, shattering it and scattering crimson snow all around.

    I twisted around to see a massive daemon, about twenty feet tall, effortlessly pulling out the spear from the ground.

    It turned its faceless head toward me and lunged, spear in its black hand.

    It was so quick that I almost didn''t see it.

    Blood sprayed all over the ground as the spear point tore into my right shoulder, cleanly slicing my arm off.

    I cried out in agony as the burning pain consumed my body.

    As my vision blurred, I saw the daemon retract the spear and aim at my face for another decisive and deadly attack.

    I have to do something before I get a major redecoration of my face. The blazing pain all over my body isn''t helping things at all.

    Just then I felt a hand on my shoulder.

    "How many times have I told you to be careful?" his cold voice asked as the daemon was pierced with multiple rapidly spinning long blood projectiles.

    One ripped through its chest and the creature staggered back. Another volley of swirling blood lances blew the daemon away just as it exploded in a ball of darkness.

    A horrible wail filled my ears as a wraith shot out of the fading darkness and shot toward me, vying to possess me and twist me into its physical form.

    Time slowed down and the sonorous rings of the bells filled my ears as they heralded another misfortune for me.

    I smiled.

    Not this time.

    Multiple appendages of blood surged from behind me and speared through the crimson smoke, instantly turning it into dust with a despairing wail.

    "I know I can depend on you to save my hide," I remarked, looking at the hauntingly beautiful face of Mordred Pendragon, Second High Prince of the Kingdom and Captain of Unit 21 of the Deathwalker Army.

    "I say don''t push your luck," he spoke in a cold voice that was hollow ever since the day she left.

    I smirked. "I thought you were busy ripping into a wraith."

    "I was," he turned around. "Until I saw you in danger."

    I turned around as well and gagged. "Oh Incarni. That''s just sick," I remarked, looking at the wraith pinned to the bloody ground by multiple stakes driven into what used to be a 17-year-old Deathwalker with dirty blonde hair.

    Its limbs were grotesquely twisted in all directions and its torso was ripped open and gutted. Instead of its unholy screams, the wraith whimpered and shrunk at the sight of the Captain''s cold red eyes.

    "Quite creative, I must say," I spoke drily. Another set of bells rang on the Shield, signaling the departure of the daemons into the Tear.

    "This was a rather short battle," the Captain said, his eye still on the pinned wraith.

    I shrugged and looked around. "Short, but quite deadly. Almost all the newbies are dead."

    He didn''t respond but stepped closer to the wraith. The creature started screeching as he got closer.

    Incarni!

    For a wraith to fear him, I shudder at the Captain''s actions toward the creature.

    So I stopped him. "Enough. Let me."

    He turned his crimson eyes to me, sending chills down my spine.

    "I haven''t set a wraith on fire in a long time," I told him and approached the wraith.

    Its blood-red eyes flared and the creature started gnashing its needle-like teeth at me.

    I sighed. "It''s better this way."

    With these words, I donned my Spark Gloves and snapped my fingers, igniting ferocious blue flames that consumed the wraith.

    Its horrifying screams were mixed with the young man''s as his skin burned, his flesh melted and his bones charred black.

    Soon the screams stopped and the flames died down to reveal hot ash left behind by the cremation.

    Yet his screams still echoed in my ears along with the bells.

    I turned around to face Mordred Pendragon, raising my eyes to meet his crimson gaze.

    "You fine?" I asked.

    He shrugged. "I guess."

    "PENDRAGON!"

    An angry voice boomed at us from behind.

    I sighed.

    Now what?

 89 Out Of Control

    [Artemis Fray]

    "It''s Vanis," I said as the angry Deathwalker approached us, her eyes fixed on Mordred.

    "What did you do to piss her off?" I asked.

    "I have no idea," he shrugged, watching as the captain of Unit 5 stormed towards us, her heterochromatic red and purple eyes blazing with fury.

    Vanis Hectus was an otherworldly beauty with striking eyes and shoulder-length silver hair that parted at her forehead, revealing an intricate tattooed pattern.

    Despite being in her early twenties, she stood above average height.

    Yet, her stature didn''t seem to bother her. If anything, it had only sharpened her icy demeanor.

    But the Vanis marching towards us now was anything but composed.

    "PENDRAGON!" she bellowed, her aura shaking the air around us.

    Blood swirled around her, crystallizing into a crimson sword that she pointed at his face.

    Like him, she possessed the Haema strand.

    But her control over blood was far more refined than the Captain''s, even though they were of the same rank. She had mastered blood crystallization long before him.

    She manifested her strand at the age of five, which probably contributed to her precise mastery of it.

    She is a Reaper and one of the strongest captains in the Shield.

    As expected from an ex-paladin.

    Yeah. You all heard it right.

    Vanis was a former paladin of the Order of Lux, excommunicated for one of the most grievous sins against the order.

    Her crime?

    Killing a Saint.

    How lovely.

    Enough background; back to the battlefield.

    Locking eyes with her intense red and purple gaze, the Captain calmly asked, "What is it, Vanis?"

    "That young man, the wraith," she pressed the tip of her sword to his throat, "was part of my Unit."

    Oh. That isn''t good. I could feel panic building up inside me.

    If these two powerhouses start fighting, things will get very messy.

    "And?" The Captain leaned closer, the blade''s tip piercing his skin. "I think I just did you a favor. I made sure it didn''t cause any carnage."

    A hint of carefully suppressed rage leaked from his voice as he addressed Vanis.

    Please don''t make it worse, you idiot!

    "I promised the Deathwalkers in my Unit to kill them swiftly if they ever became a wraith," she said, her gaze hardening.

    "Ah," he nodded. "Well, you were quite far away, so I took matters into my own hands."

    "You took it too far!" Vanis yelled.

    The Captain cocked his head. "Too far, you say?"

    A trickle of blood flowed down his neck as her sword dug deeper.

    "You drove multiple stakes into his body, you twisted his limbs, and you gutted him. You subjected him to untold agony before burning him to ashes," Vanis hissed through her teeth.

    "It," the Captain interjected, his voice cold and scathing. "I subjected it to those agonies. It''s a wraith, Vanis."

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    "He was a person before that! A fellow Deathwalker! We are to kill them as quickly as possible to prevent them from causing and experiencing further agony. Not subject them to horrific torture!" Vanis snapped.

    The Captain suddenly grabbed her sword and stared into her eyes.

    "When wraiths take over the body, they completely suppress the person. Any pain inflicted on the body is experienced only by the wraith," he explained in a cold voice.

    "The only time the person feels pain is when we burn the body. That is when the wraith''s hold over the person will weaken."

    "And you use that to justify your actions?" Vanis shook her head in disgust.

    "What if I am?" Mordred countered, tightening his grip around the crimson blade, the cut deepening.

    "The wraiths slaughter Deathwalkers in far more horrific ways, and don''t even get me started on the Abnormals."

    Vanis''s eyes glowed dangerously. "And we are to be like them?"

    Mordred shook his head, his next words chilling. "No. We can be way worse."

    Vanis''s gaze turned icy. "The daily battles are taking their toll on your mind. You''re getting reckless, letting your hatred for the wraiths drive you."

    Her crimson sword dissipated into a red mist as she took a step back, her stare unwavering. "You''re too dangerous to be let out of the Shield. You''re out of control, Mordred."

    Mordred sneered, "Out of control? Too dangerous? Profound words coming from the Saintslayer."

    A collective gasp escaped from everyone gathered around the two Unit Captains.

    A deadly silence followed before a terrifying bloodlust paralyzed me to the bones, and an overwhelming aura threatened to crush me.

    It wasn''t just me; the weaker Deathwalkers around us were on their knees, gasping for air, pure terror etched on their faces.

    I unleashed my aura and straightened up, only to see something much worse.

    The Captain and Vanis were glaring at each other, weapons ready.

    "Did I hit a nerve?" Captain Mordred asked, flicking his white daggers up and down.

    "Oh, you definitely did," Vanis responded, her gaze venomous as she readied her brilliant white sword, its blade adorned with intricate golden patterns.

    The air shook as their auras clashed, blood swirling around both Deathwalkers, shaping into lethal appendages and spikes.

    Ah, crap.

    If these two clash here, the whole area would be leveled!

    Nope, I am not dying from aftershocks!

    Just as they raised their weapons, I streamed Aeris all over my body and dashed forward.

    My Yoyo came to life as ardor and Aeris enveloped it.

    With a swift motion, the black string of my Yoyo coiled around the two Captains, binding their movements.

    I gripped the string tightly with my left hand, anchoring myself to the ground with both feet.

    There is no way I can restrain these two powerhouses with my current strength, especially with one functioning hand.

    I need to wrap this up quickly.

    Thank the Incarni Master Lorvar insisted on me having a very tough string.

    "How about we save the fighting for the sparring court or the Arena?" I grunted, straining against their strength.

    Both of their gazes bore into me, intense and piercing.

    Well, at least they''re not focused on ripping each other apart. This is much better.

    There was a very dangerous and tense silence before the crushing aura and paralyzing Bloodlust dissipated.

    "Fine," Vanis growled and I relaxed, releasing the string restraining her

    Looking at me, she said, "You better keep your Captain in check, Fray, before he gets you all killed."

    "I''ll be sure to remember that," I nodded to her.

    Vanis narrowed her eyes before striding away, her footsteps echoing in the tense silence.

    I let out a sigh of relief and turned to the Captain.

    "Come here," I said between breaths, gesturing at him.

    He frowned but complied, approaching me.

    "What?" he managed before I landed a swift and solid punch to his handsome face.

    Caught completely unaware, he collapsed to the ground, groaning and holding a bloody nose.

    "What the fuck was that for?!" he demanded before I knocked him out with my Yoyo.

    "Just shut the fuck up and take a nap," I growled before collapsing to my knees.

    Bloody hell! That was stressful!

    "Good call," Carlo appeared behind me and placed a hand on my shoulder.

    "Just where were you, young master jackass?" I glared at him.

    He rolled his eyes. "Apologies for not being present. I was preoccupied with preventing your brother from bleeding his guts out."

    His eyes fell on the Captain. "He''s getting worse. How many Deathwalkers has he managed to infuriate now?"

    "Too many," I replied wearily, running a hand through my hair.

    "He has one month left. We need to make sure he gets out of this place alive. We must ensure he meets Iris," Carlo reminded me.

    I pinched between my eyebrows. "I know, Carlo."

    Glancing at our unconscious Captain, I couldn''t help but smile.

    "He''s really a handful, isn''t he?"

 90 I Dont Get Mad

    [Back To Mordred]

    "She has a point. You are out of control," Eravon remarked, stirring his tea.

    The spoon clinked softly against the cup before he took a sip.

    Noticing my lack of response, he sighed. "Scowling won''t make things easier, Mordred."

    I looked away, taking in our surroundings.

    This time, we were on the shore of a pristine lake, its water sparkling like turquoise.

    It was an ideal setting for tea. I just wished my mood matched the scenery.

    "Just why?" I murmured.

    "Pardon?" Eravon asked, setting his cup down.

    I met his sky-blue eyes. "Why aren''t you mad at me?"

    He arched an eyebrow. "And why should I be mad at you?"

    "It''s because," I started, then sighed. "You know how I''ve been. I''m out of control, pissing off a lot of people in the Shield."

    Eravon chuckled. "I''ve lived for thousands of years. It would take more than your actions to make me angry."

    "But I am a bit bothered by your change," he said, grabbing a donut and peering through its hole.

    "You are slowly reverting to your old self, the hate-filled villainous bastard of King Arthur."

    "Well, that is quite shocking!" I stared at him. "What could''ve caused such a change in me?" I asked in a mocking tone.

    Eravon sighed. "Iris leaving is a huge blow, but you can see her after you leave the Shield."

    He gave me a stern look. "But from what I know, to meet Iris again, there is the rather important requirement of staying alive."

    "Your hatred toward the wraiths is consuming you. It''s making you do unspeakable things that horrify even the hardiest Deathwalkers."

    "You''re diving into dangerous situations daily. Do you know how many times you were close to death?" he asked with a worried look.

    I shrugged. "I''ve lost count. I honestly don''t care, Eravon."

    "And to be honest, it''s not just Iris," I continued bitterly. "Felix, Damien, and many other good comrades I had are either dead or have disappeared."

    I clenched my fist and banged the table, shaking the cutlery on it. "I''m just sick of it all," I said through gritted teeth.

    Eravon leaned back, placing a hand on his chin, and gave me an understanding look. "I know, Mordred. It''s hard. But you haven''t lost everyone. You still have your Unit."

    "And you''re scared you will lose them as well. Isn''t that why you increased the difficulty of their training and those aggressive spars?"

    I sighed. "Sometimes I wonder if you can read minds."

    Eravon smiled. "I told you, I have lots of experience."

    "So please, Mordred. Control your rage and try not to die horribly. Look forward to seeing Iris again," he advised.

    I shook my head. "She doesn''t remember me, and you know why I can''t let her remember her past with me. If she does, the horrors of her past would resurface."

    Eravon sighed. "Your archaic way of thinking is resurfacing, Mordred. Iris is strong. Even before she lost her memories, she was living with the scars of her horrid past."

    "And you know how messed up she was," I pointed out.

    He nodded. "I do. But this is Iris. Whatever comes her way, she''s fully capable of handling it."

    Picking up his cup of tea, he said, "How about this? After you wake up, go seek out Vanis Hectus and apologize to her. That will quench your doubts."

    I frowned. "What does that have to do with Iris?"

    Eravon rolled his eyes. "Just do it."

    I narrowed my eyes to discern anything from the man before me, but he remained as mysterious as ever.

    "Should I really apologize?" I groaned.

    Eravon gave me a dangerous smile. "Yep. You must."

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    I clicked my tongue. "Fine."

    "Awesome! Now one more thing," he said, finishing his tea and standing up.

    The next second, I fell back with a bloody nose.

    "Ow! What the fuck, Eravon?"

    The Immortal Warlock loomed over me with a calm yet menacing smile. He cracked his knuckles as the table disappeared, looking down at me.

    "Well, we have had this same conversation over and over again every time you visit me, and you do not change," he stated while flexing his fingers.

    "I think it''s time I really drive in the lesson," he remarked with an unchanging smile and smacked his fist into his palm.

    I instinctively backed away from him.

    "What happened to ''I am thousands of years old and cannot get mad''?" I demanded, trying to get up from the ground.

    "Oh, even I have my limits. I am a human after all," Eravon replied and snapped his fingers, and I suddenly found myself unable to move another inch.

    "This dream world originates from your mind, but it utilizes my power. So I have authority over it," he explained, approaching closer.

    "So let''s start the lesson of learning how to not lose control."

    I saw his fist coming at me with lightning speed and precision.

    "Ah, fuck."

    *******

    "Hey there, sleeping beauty. Did you have a good nap?" a familiar voice drawled.

    Amidst the pounding headache, I figured out my surroundings.

    "Ava? What are you doing in my room?"

    The young lady of Baskerville was sitting on a chair next to the wall behind my bed. She wore a simple grey tank top and her Deathwalker slacks.

    She tilted her head. "The Vice Cap asked us to take turns watching over your handsome visage to make sure you don''t rush off to the nearest training dummy and obliterate it."

    She seemed amused by my present condition. "Hm? Even with that beauty sleep, you still have a headache?"

    I massaged my head and groaned. "Yeah. I had a painful dream."

    "Captain Iris?" she asked, her tone softening.

    I winced. "Nah. I was getting beaten up."

    "Now that is something I would love to watch," Ava said, getting up and heading over to my desk.

    She poured a glass of water and handed it to me along with a painkiller. "Here. This should help."

    "Thanks," I said, taking the medicine and emptying the glass.

    Although it wasn''t the healing of Althea, the medicine alleviated the headache a bit.

    "How is everyone?" I asked, looking at Ava.

    The amber flecks in her eyes glittered as she answered. "Alive, fortunately. Apollo lost both his legs and is now resting after having them reattached."

    She pursed her lips before continuing as if processing her next words. "And Krystal is making card castles with a spear point lodged in her eye socket."

    I stared at her in amazement. "How is that girl even alive?"

    Ava shrugged. "I have no idea. Even the Doc was in shock."

    I let out a sigh. Sometimes I wonder if Krystal Macleod is even human.

    "Carlo and Artemis?" I inquired.

    "Both are resting," Ava answered. "Artemis got her arm reattached as well."

    I nodded. "That''s good."

    Getting up, I looked at her. "And what about you?"

    Ava shuffled her feet under my gaze. It had only been a year since she arrived at the Shield, and I could already see numerous scars along her arms.

    A quite horrific scar marred her forehead, which she tried to hide with her bangs or makeup.

    For someone from the infamous Baskerville Family, known to display their scars with pride, Ava was surprisingly quite self-conscious, something I realized only after knowing her for some time.

    She was still quite snarky with her aloof personality, but being a Deathwalker can bring out a person''s inner self, no matter how hard they try to keep it hidden.

    For Ava, she was scared of failure. Every injury she sustained on the battlefield was a failure on her part; every scar that marred her body was a mark of shame.

    It must''ve sucked being the sole heir of the Baskerville Family and being compared to the Hound.

    From what I learned. Her father sent her to the Shield after she failed to be on the level of the Hound.

    Duke Baskerville figured becoming a Deathwalker would make her powerful.

    So essentially it is either surpass the Hound or die like a dog in Blood Valley.

    Yeesh.

    What is it with this world and shitty fathers?

    "No injuries today. Only a few scratches," she said with a proud smile.

    "Impressive," I remarked, and she smirked.

    "Anyway," I awkwardly scratched my cheek, "do you know where Vanis could be?"

    Ava raised an eyebrow. "Why? Looking to finish what the Vice Captain stopped?"

    I shook my head. "No. I''m not going to fight her."

    She narrowed her eyes at me. "Really?"

    I raised my hands. "Honest. On my name as a Pendragon."

    She gave me one more suspicious look before shrugging. "Fine. Captain Vanis is in the Tomb right now, according to my sources."

    A faint smile tugged at my lips. "Your information network is impressive."

    Ava smiled back. "It was the Vice Captain''s idea. I''m just trying to help her with my experience as a Baskerville."

    "Thanks, Ava," I nodded and put on my jacket before stepping out.

    "Captain," she called out.

    "Hm?" I turned around to see her looking at me with a serious expression.

    "Captain Vanis controls the biggest information network in the North. Please don''t piss her off," she advised.

    I smiled at her. "Oh, don''t worry. I won''t."

 91 Making Waves

    My neck strained as I looked up at the Tomb, the imposing peak reaching high into the clouds before me.

    No matter how many times I''ve seen it, the mountain housing the remains of more than a million Deathwalkers always leaves me in awe.

    I had worked inside the Tomb several times, gathering caskets and placing them in the cells or graves.

    Despite the morbid nature of the entire endeavor, being in the Tomb is quite peaceful.

    Surrounded by the marble name stones of the cells built into the walls of the hollowed-out mountain, illuminated by soft overhead lights and countless candles, and accompanied by the sweet scent of incense and flowers, it all gives the feeling of morbid serenity.

    And weirdly, I like it. So much so that I often found myself walking into the Tomb whenever I wanted to feel at ease.

    I smiled at the thought.

    Even Iris was unnerved by this habit of mine.

    Incarni! Iris.

    Eravon was right. I must see her again, so I should try my best to stay alive.

    "Here to spend time with the dead again, Captain Mordred?" one of the Deathwalker guards asked casually.

    I smiled. "More like visiting the living. Have you seen Vanis?"

    "Ah. Captain Hectus," he gave me a suspicious look. "You''re not here for a rematch with her, are you?"

    I rolled my eyes. "Word really travels fast, huh? No, I''m not here to fight her."

    "Really?"

    "Yeah," I emphasized.

    He shrugged. "Alright then. She''s at Graveyard 8."

    Gesturing to some all-terrain vehicles parked nearby, he added, "You could take them to ascend the mountain-"

    "I''ll sprint," I cut him off and walked toward a winding path built into the side of the mountain.

    "Or you could do that," the Deathwalker sighed. "Just don''t cause any trouble, Captain."

    I waved him off. "Oh, don''t worry. I won''t."

    The snow scattered as I launched myself onto the mountain path.

    The frigid wind whipped my face, and my boots crunched down on the thin layer of snow covering the well-maintained road, sending flurries in all directions with each footfall.

    Each breath I took chilled my lungs, and the landscape blurred into a passing haze.

    Before I knew it, I was standing at the gate of Graveyard 8, slightly out of breath.

    When a fallen Deathwalker is brought to the Tomb, they can be interred or cremated according to their wish or that of their close ones.

    If they are to be interred, the casket is placed in one of the numerous cells inside the hollowed-out mountain, or buried outside in one of the many graveyards along the mountainside.

    The entire Tomb was meticulously designed to be the final resting place for the Deathwalkers, with expansions even digging down to the mountain''s foundations to increase its capacity.

    After the Shield and the Royal Palace, the Tomb stands as one of the greatest projects in the Kingdom.

    I passed through the gate and entered the graveyard.

    Gravestones of black marble were arranged in neat rows across the flat area cut into the mountain.

    Snow lightly dusted the gravestones and the cobblestone walkway that ran through the middle of the graveyard, a pristine white blanket softening the harsh lines of stone and earth.

    Flowers, both fresh and dried, were meticulously arranged at the base of the gravestones, their petals contrasting vividly against the dark stone and white snow.

    As I walked among the gravestones, I couldn''t shake the feeling that I wasn''t alone.

    It was as if the spirits of the fallen Deathwalkers were crowding around me, curious about the living person who had stepped into their sanctuary.

    My eyes wandered over the names engraved in the solid marble.

    How many Deathwalkers were laid to rest in this graveyard?

    How did they die?

    Does anyone still miss them?

    I shook my head. I probably wouldn''t know the answers.

    But what I do know is that the Deathwalkers buried here are just a drop in the ocean of corpses created by the Tear.

    Glimpses of my nightmares flashed into my mind.

    If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    The crimson sky dotted with black stars, the sea of blood and body parts, the disembodied hands.

    A shudder passed through my body.

    Why now, of all times?

    I quickened my pace and spotted a solitary figure standing before a grave ahead.

    She was gazing down at the gravestone, which seemed to have been recently installed.

    "Here to continue our fight?" Vanis asked as I approached her, her eyes still on the gravestone.

    I sighed and stood beside her. "Why does everyone assume that?"

    She shrugged and glanced sideways at me. "Well, everyone in the Shield knows how bloody cracked you are."

    I winced at her words. "I can''t blame them for that. You were right. I am out of control."

    Vanis''s face remained expressionless. "Good thing you realized, but it was a bit too late."

    I sensed bitterness in her voice. She hadn''t forgiven me for what I did back then.

    "You buried his ashes?" I asked, finding it quite odd.

    Vanis nodded. "He wished to be buried, even if he was reduced to ashes."

    She sighed. "He always kept to himself and only talked to me. But he was a good Deathwalker."

    Her gaze wandered to the distant mountains, her silver hair swaying in the icy winds.

    "I bet he is quite infuriated seeing us standing before his grave��the Captain who broke her promise to him and the guy who mutilated him," she scoffed.

    I grimaced. She really emphasized that last part.

    I took a deep breath, the frigid air stinging my lungs.

    It''s just a simple apology. It''s not hard.

    "Listen, Vanis. I-"

    "Do you mean it?" She cut me off, her gaze still fixed in the distance.

    I blinked. "Huh?"

    "Your apology. Do you mean it?" she turned to me, her red and purple eyes staring into my soul.

    "Many have apologized to me, Mordred. One of them was the previous Saint."

    Her words sent a chill down my spine and I felt the icy hands of fear grasp my heart.

    I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked her in the eyes.

    "I mean it, Vanis," I said.

    "I am sorry."

    Vanis remained silent, her cold and hard gaze lingering on mine for a minute, her expression unreadable.

    She closed her eyes and turned away. "Fine. Just make sure you honor those words."

    She walked to the graveyard''s edge and sat on a rock jutting towards the edge.

    "Sit with me," she said, patting the rock beside her.

    It was not a request, but an order.

    Vanis Hectus is really scary!

    Both of us are Master A rankers, but she has more experience and is significantly better than me in controlling her strand.

    She is equal to Iris in ability before Iris became an S ranker and has gained a reputation as the deadliest Paladin in the Order of Lux.

    So I complied with her and sat on the rock.

    The scenery before us was breathtaking. Graveyard 8 was on the side of the Tomb that did not face the Shield.

    So the rest of Les Anciennes stretched out before us, blanketed in snow and clouds.

    "So. What is it?" Vanis asked, breaking the silence and looking at me with her heterochromatic eyes.

    Incarni! She is such a beautiful woman.

    Her crimson and purple eyes held a certain allure to them and the tattoo on her forehead elevated the beauty of her face.

    She''s beautiful. But not as beautiful as Iris, and definitely not as beautiful as me.

    Wow! I''m such a romantic.

    Well, it''s quite expected of such a beautiful human like me.

    Anyway.

    "What?" I gave her a puzzled look.

    Vanis raised an eyebrow. "You''re not here just to apologize, are you?"

    I nodded slowly. "Yeah. I need to know something."

    She looked at me and her lips curled into a half-smile.

    Returning her gaze to the scenery, she said, "Iris is doing well."

    I did a double take, and I stared at her. "How did you know I was about to ask about Iris?"

    She smirked. "It''s obvious that you would ask about Iris. You were worried about her, weren''t you?"

    I awkwardly rubbed the back of my head. "Yeah. I am."

    Vanis chuckled. "How cute. Don''t be so worried. She''s thriving."

    "Really?" I perked up. My final year was so consumed by the daily battles that I couldn''t learn anything about what happened to Iris after she left the Shield.

    Hearing Vanis'' words lifted my spirits and improved my mood.

    She nodded, looking quite amused by my reaction.

    "It took only six months for her to recover. Apart from her lost memories, she''s better than before. She''s now an S ranker, after all."

    Vanis leaned back, resting her palms on the cool surface of the rock before continuing.

    "Iris Lefay is making some major waves in the Kingdom. Soon after she recovered, she brought down the noble family who was governing Blackrose Island."

    I blinked. "That was unexpected."

    Vanis shrugged. "Those guys were some real assholes, absolutely corrupted to the core. I am surprised Iris even tolerated them during her recovery."

    "One of them even tried to make a move on Iris when she first took up residence on the island," she added.

    I stared at her and asked in a dangerous voice. "Did he? Give me his name and his address."

    "Whoa, there tiger. Just calm down. Iris killed him in a duel," Vanis replied.

    "Ah," I nodded.

    "That''s Iris for you. It''s a pity I couldn''t get him though,"

    "I''m kind of glad that he died by her hand," Vanis remarked. "I shudder to think what you would do if he fell into your hands," she added.

    "So yeah. She completely annihilated that family and single-handedly freed Blackrose Island from their well-hidden oppression," she continued.

    "The High King was quite impressed by her and put her in charge of Blackrose Island," Vanis gave me a calm smile. "The island residents call her the Blackrose Knight and revere her like an Incarnus."

    I raised my eyebrows. "Wow. Like an Incarnus, huh? That''s some high praise."

    "Now that is some natural talent," she remarked and swayed her legs.

    "Even without her memories, Iris is as fiery as ever!"

 92 Saint Slayer

    "Ten thousand draigos? Are you bloody kidding me?" I exclaimed, staring at Vanis in disbelief.

    She raised an eyebrow, her expression cool and unyielding. "Knowledge comes at a certain price, Mordred."

    "Also, consider this as recompense for killing one of my men," she added with a smirk, the hint of amusement not reaching her eyes.

    "Just say you have a certain love for money," I grumbled as we walked the snow-laden road down the mountain.

    She cupped her ear with her hand and tilted her head slightly. "I''m sorry. Did you say something?"

    "Nothing," I quickly looked away, suddenly fascinated by an interesting-looking rock.

    Vanis''s lips curled into a knowing smile. "How about this? Ask me one more thing. That should justify the price."

    "Or you could give me a discount," I suggested, half-hopeful.

    "Just ask a bloody question," she replied, her smile turning cold.

    Hm. If that''s the case, there''s something I really want to know. I hope Vanis won''t punch me in the face.

    "Okay," I nodded, taking a steadying breath. "Why?"

    She looked puzzled. "Pardon?"

    "Why did you kill the previous Saint?" I asked carefully, taking a step back in case I needed to escape quickly.

    But Vanis didn''t look upset at all. Instead, a melancholic expression crossed her face, softening her features.

    "I figured you would be curious," she sighed, walking past me before turning to face me again.

    To my surprise, her gaze was empty, devoid of the usual fire.

    "Was there something else to the Saint, like a terrible secret you found out and couldn''t handle?" I asked, treading carefully with my question.

    Vanis chuckled, a hollow sound that echoed in the cold air. "Sorry to disappoint you, Mordred. But he was a true Saint, unsullied by any evil this world could throw at him."

    "Then why? Why kill him?" I pressed, my curiosity burning.

    She looked at me, her empty gaze piercing through me, making me shiver despite the cold.

    "I killed him because he broke a promise," she said, her voice void of emotion, a hollow echo of her usual self.

    "A promise?"

    Vanis had a faraway look in her heterochromatic eyes. "We were the best of friends. He chose me as his closest Paladin when he became the Saint."

    "We made a promise," her eyes lit up suddenly. "Together, we would find our goddess."

    "The Lux Incarnus," I noted.

    She nodded. "It''s been too long since our Incarnus last spoke to us."

    "So we promised to look for her together when he became the Saint."

    The light in her eyes sparkled as she spoke. "He was really dedicated at first. He reignited the search, encouraged the rest of the Order, and even joined the search parties whenever possible."

    I watched the light slowly fade away as she continued. "But the search turned out to be fruitless, even after years."

    "Many in the Order began to doubt, and many more gave up. The searchers thinned down, and in the end, it was just the two of us."

    I winced. "That must''ve been hard."

    Vanis shrugged. "I didn''t care if they left. As long as we didn''t give up, the search for our Incarnus would continue."Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!

    She gave a bitter smile. "Now that I think about it, I must''ve been quite deluded to think that would be the case."

    I looked at her. "Let me guess. He gave up as well."

    "Of course he did," she affirmed, clenching her fist. "In the end, it was just me. He said I was on a wild goose chase, looking for a goddess who may be lost forever."

    "It was a hard betrayal from the one I trusted most in this world." She opened her palm, and blood pooled in it.

    Suddenly, the blood ignited, creating flames of crimson and black. The flames entranced me as I gazed at them in awe.

    "Bloodfire," Vanis explained as if reading my mind. "Combine highly intricate Haema control with enough ardor, and you can create flames hotter than those of Ignis. As long as there is blood as fuel, the flames burn."

    The crimson and black flames flickered away as they consumed the blood in her palm.

    "I killed him with these flames, and he didn''t retaliate at all. He just said he was sorry and hoped I would find our Incarnus before my flames consumed him."

    She narrowed her eyes. "Killing the Saint is punishable by death, but that idiot knew I would kill him. So he made sure that I would be sentenced to the Shield."

    I raised my eyebrows. "What the heck? Being a Deathwalker is worse than a death sentence."

    Vanis nodded. "He knew that, but he also knew I would survive," she scoffed. "He probably wanted me to continue the search for the Incarnus during my time in the Shield. It was his way of apologizing for breaking our promise."

    "So that''s why you created an information network, to get any news regarding the Lux Incarnus," I guessed.

    "And much good it has done me," she said drily. "I get all types of information except news of our Incarnus."

    "And now I wonder if I even want to continue the search," she sighed.

    I tilted my head. "Looks like somebody is losing their faith."

    She cracked a rare smile. "Do you know the Crazy Scorched Day?"

    "Ah. I know that," I recounted. "Some lunatic from the Hearth Sanctum summoned the Ignis Incarnus into Blood Valley some twenty years ago."

    The Hearth Sanctum, they are the faction that reveres the Ignis Incarnus. They are the third-largest Incarnus faction, right after the Fulgur Clan of the Fulgur Incarnus and the Order of Lux.

    If you remove the blood-soaked snow covering the battlefield, you will see that the entire land is scorched black, and there are imprints of high heels melted into the rock in the middle of the battlefield where the Incarnus descended.

    "Indeed," Vanis nodded. "When I learned about it, I realized something. The other Incarni respond in their own ways to the voices of those who follow and believe in them."

    "But our goddess never whispered back an answer to the countless voices that called out to her over the centuries."

    Her eyes drifted to the stars slowly blinking into existence as the day ended and night crept in.

    "Now I think he was right. The Incarnus of Lux is perhaps lost forever," she said, her voice devoid of hope.

    I followed her gaze and looked at the stars. We stood there on the road, gazing at the night sky unfolding like a beautiful tapestry.

    "You know, the Incarnus of Lux is not dead," I offered. "If an Incarnus is killed��"

    "Those with the Lux strand will know it, and a new Incarnus will be born to take her place," Vanis cut me off, looking at me. "I know. I would know of her death as well."

    I stared at her in confusion. "How? You don''t have the Lux strand."

    She gave a cold smirk and held out her hand. A bright light suddenly blinded me, and the next thing I saw was a sword made of pure light in her hand.

    My eyes widened in realization and shock. "You''re a Lux user. A dual-strand Linker."

    Vanis nodded and closed her hand, dissipating the sword of light into glowing particles.

    "I never use Lux. It brings out a lot of bad memories," she replied with a casual shrug.

    I gulped and stared at her. Even with just using her Haema strand, Vanis Hectus is one of the strongest Deathwalkers in the Shield and a bloody Reaper. If she uses Lux as well...

    A shudder passed through my body.

    What a monster.

    "And I was wondering how you became a Paladin while possessing Haema," I voiced a thought that had lingered in my mind ever since I heard of Vanis Hectus.

    She gave a small smile. "I prefer using Haema over Lux. Only a few people, even among the Paladins, knew of my dual strands."

    "Vanis Hectus, you''re a bloody protagonist," I declared.

    Vanis tilted her head with an amused expression. "Maybe in another book, who knows?"

    "Can you teach me to make Bloodfire?" I asked in a hopeful tone.

    She shrugged. "Sure. But I charge a high price."

    I winced. "Can I get a discount? I''m a fellow captain. Also, I''m the High Prince."

    "Nope. Full price. Take it or leave it."

    I rolled my eyes. "Fine. You money-loving fanatic."

    With a smirk, she turned around and made her way down the road. "We should get back. You have a battle tomorrow, don''t you?"

    I let out a groan. "Don''t remind me."

    "You have one month left, Mordred," Vanis turned around, her crimson and purple eyes glinting in the night.

    "Anything can happen. Be careful."

 93 Hatred

    Okay. Now I''m addicted.

    I sat down on a small boulder and took in a deep breath before exhaling.

    I looked at the blood covering my body and gulped, trying to control myself.

    Carefully wiping the blood off my sleeve, I looked at my blood-covered palm and took deep breaths.

    Come on, Mordred. Control yourself.

    But the blood on my hands glistened like fine wine, the sweet smell invading my nose and stirring something primal within me.

    My breathing grew rapid, and my body felt hot. A ravenous hunger clawed at my insides, and I found it increasingly difficult to resist the urge.

    Well. Fuck it.

    I brought my palm close to my face and licked the blood off it, the warm crimson liquid coating my tongue.

    I grimaced. Ugh. Mixed blood. It feels like I am drinking from multiple people.

    But it was enough.

    As I swallowed the blood, I felt a burst of energy and my mind cleared.

    For a moment, the images of my nightmare that plagued me vanished.

    I let out a shuddering breath of relief and relaxed my body.

    I guess it''s because of my vampiric lineage.

    Whenever I drink the blood of others, I receive a boost of energy greater than what Blood Acceleration could provide, and it also clears my mind.

    My blood tasting first began after Iris and I learned about my lineage.

    It was a harmless experiment. At first, I tried consuming my own blood but didn''t feel anything.

    Then, with a mix of curiosity and trust, Iris gave me some of her blood to taste.

    The effects were immediate and intoxicating, leaving me hooked.

    We realized that, unlike the Progenitor, I found it difficult to resist the consumption of blood and that it would lead to a nasty addiction. So she made me stop with the blood consumption.

    After Iris left the Shield, however, I was an emotional wreck and constantly plagued by my nightmares, which seemed to get worse every time I closed my eyes to sleep.

    I''ve lost count of the sleepless nights in my room. That''s when I started consuming blood again.

    They were not my proudest moments, but drinking blood helped to ease the suffering I go through daily with the constant battles and nightmares.

    So yeah. I''m a vampire now, minus the fangs and weird dramatic speaking style.

    Just before I could have another lick, a voice stopped me.

    "That is quite a disturbing sight."

    A Deathwalker approached me with a smile. She wore an eye patch, and her face was scarred, but I recognized her gleaming amber eye and red hair.

    Oh, the blue tiger mechanima by her side was also quite evident.

    I stared at her in surprise. "No way. Captain Sparks? You''re alive? I haven''t seen you in a long time. I thought you were dead!"

    She chuckled. "I wish I was, Your Highness. When I lost my eye, I wished I were dead."

    I winced. "What happened?"

    "A wraith drove its claw deep into my eye socket, one of the Deathwalkers in my Unit," she shrugged. "The eye sustained too much damage."

    Sparks touched her eyepatch and grinned. "But hey! I look very cool in this! I look like a pirate with a mechanical tiger!"

    I chuckled and held out my hand. Basil uncoiled herself from my arm and slithered over to Tony the tiger mechanima.

    Both mechanimas sized each other up, and in the next minute, started playing around with each other.

    It''s quite a bizarre sight: a blue, super-sized mechanical tiger playing with a white, mechanical snake whose size kept on shifting on a bloody battlefield covered in corpses, weapons, and broken mechanimas.

    "Enough about me," Sparks said and looked me up. "I am amazed. What the hell happened to that little kid I saved four years ago?"

    "You have grown to become quite a dashing young man. Not only did you surpass most Deathwalkers in terms of strength, but you have also created quite a reputation."

    "The Mad Prince," she said with a dramatic flair.

    I let out a small chuckle. "That''s crazy."

    "Not as crazy as you dating the bloody Fairy of Tenebris. You guys were the perfect match," her gaze softened. "I''m sorry about what happened to her."

    My gaze fell to the ground. "Thanks. It''s been quite hard."

    I felt a hand on my head as Sparks ruffled my hair. "You have experienced things that are too much for a young one like you, but you endured."

    I looked up to see her warm smile and glittering amber gaze. "You''ve done well, Your Highness."This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    "I heard you''ll be out in one week. So please endure a bit more," she grinned. "After all, Iris is waiting for you."

    Seeing her bright face, I couldn''t help but smile. "Now I know why others call you Captain Sunshine."

    Her face scrunched up. "No way they are calling me that?"

    "Don''t underestimate the creativity of a few bored Deathwalkers," I quipped, and we started to laugh.

    That''s when we heard the bells ring. We froze and I looked up, wondering if I was imagining it.

    "Okay. That''s not fair," Sparks grumbled, her gaze also on the massive bells ringing rapidly.

    The bells ringing right after a battle can mean only one thing. A second incursion.

    I quickly looked at the Tear, expecting a huge army of daemons to silently march out of the massive portal.

    But there was nothing, not even a single smoky boot.

    The bells kept ringing. The ones ringing them definitely saw something, and its something bad judging by how frantically they are ringing the massive bells.

    "Minerva. What is it?" I asked the AI.

    "Mordred. Run."

    Just as those chilling words from her echoed in my ears, a shadow suddenly fell over me.

    A wave of revolting energy swept over me, and a feeling of despair that I desperately tried to forget began to consume me from the inside.

    I raised my eyes, and an old rage reignited inside me and consumed the despair as I took in the owner of the shadow.

    Its faceless visage looked down on me, and a horrifying smile stretched across the smooth black canvas.

    The black roots of darkness that made up its body writhed and pulsed as if each one of them was alive and came together to form the terrifying humanoid towering over me.

    There is no way I would ever forget this rooty son of a bitch.

    "Asphodel."

    My voice was barely a whisper as I stared at the creature that humiliated me and killed Felix four years ago.

    There was a flash of black, and I immediately jumped back before a powerful shockwave swept over me.

    As I looked ahead, I witnessed the complete destruction of the ground where I and Sparks were standing.

    Wait. Sparks!

    "Captain Sparks!" I yelled and looked around frantically. Please don''t be dead.

    "Your Highness!" her voice came from behind me.

    I quickly glanced back and my heart stopped at the sight.

    Blood covered her left side, and her arm had been completely torn savagely from her body.

    "I''ll be fine," she said with a weak smile before collapsing.

    Suddenly the air began to tremble, and tremors passed over the battlefield.

    The ground shattered under the power of my aura as I glared coldly at the smiling Abnormal.

    I gripped my daggers so hard that blood began to flow out of my palms.

    "You''re fucking dead. You bastard." I said quietly.

    *******

    Waves of ardor swept over Blood Valley as powerful forces clashed savagely across the battlefield.

    Crimson snow scattered, body parts flew, rocks shattered along with the ground, and the air itself rippled as the two monsters decimated everywhere they met.

    Mordred, surrounded by a whirlwind of blood, unleashed a barrage of devastating strikes with his sword and blood appendages upon Asphodel.

    The Abnormal daemon, however, dodged and parried almost all of them.

    With its powerful arms and black roots, it launched counterattacks that ripped through the air, which Mordred barely avoided.

    He gritted his teeth as the roots penetrated his uniform and left deep cuts on his body, each of them stung like crazy.

    Even though he was at the peak of Master A rank, he couldn''t land a scratch on the Master S ranked daemon.

    Even in his Triquetra state, he was barely keeping up with Asphodel''s devastating attacks.

    One hit from the Abnormal is enough to kill him, so he is avoiding every single attack.

    Blocking another attack of black roots that shot toward him, Mordred jumped back and swept his hand across the air.

    {Haema: Vortex Bloodlances}

    Multiple vortices of blood quickly formed around him, and they took the form of rapidly spinning crimson lances with tips of crystallized blood.

    He immediately launched them while rushing forward, blood swirling around his sword.

    Asphodel swiftly avoided some blood lances and swatted the rest away by transforming its hand into a writhing bundle of black roots.

    Mordred appeared beside it and aimed a powerful horizontal slash to the abdomen. His blood appendages lashed forward toward the daemon''s head and chest.

    Asphodel''s eerie smile widened, and its side erupted into black roots that rushed toward Mordred.

    "Shit!" he swore and quickly jumped back, but not before a sharp root struck him in the chest, leaving an ugly gash that burned like acid.

    He winced in pain, but he didn''t have time to attempt to heal the wound, as Asphodel''s grinning face appeared in his vision.

    Instinctively he reinforced and crossed his arms before him as the daemon dealt a bone-shattering punch, launching him into the air.

    Midair, agony pulsed through his limbs. With a desperate twist, he merged his appendages into massive wings that erupted from his back.

    Just then, a sudden tug on his leg yanked him downward. "This is going to hurt," he muttered as the black root tightened around his ankle, snapping bone and slamming him into the ground.

    The impact cratered the frozen earth beneath him.

    Coughing blood, Mordred saw Asphodel advancing slowly toward him.

    His body throbbed with pain, bones broken and piercing organs, forming deadly internal bleeding.

    But he remained calm and took a deep breath.

    {Haema: Blood Reconstruction}

    Arching his back, Mordred screamed in agony as his blood went into overdrive, knitting his bones back together, repairing internal damage, and stopping severe bleeding.

    Utilizing his unique vampiric lineage and the self-healing capabilities of his strand, Mordred devised a new code that would reconstruct his extensively damaged body within seconds.

    As long as he was capable of using the code, he could instantly heal himself in a minute if there were no healers nearby, no matter how broken his body became.

    However, it is an extremely painful code that also requires intense focus and mental strength.

    It was a code he used sparingly, its excruciating pain likened to every nerve being doused in acid and molten gold.

    Only in dire circumstances, without healers nearby, did he use the code.

    But he had developed his mental strength to such a degree that he could barely withstand the pain without blacking out.

    Emphasis on barely.

    But this time he didn''t care. He is ready to feel even worse pain as long as he can get up and inflict a blow on the daemon.

    Screaming himself hoarse, Mordred got back on his feet and gazed at Asphodel, who stopped in its tracks and tilted its head at him, as if intrigued and amazed at the tenacity of the human before it.

    Steam wafted from Mordred''s body as he wiped away tears and saliva from his face and caught his breath.

    His crimson eyes glowed as they fixed on Asphodel with a cold, calculating hatred.

    "I am going to enjoy ripping you apart."

 94 Just Playing

    Blood swirled around my body and flowed along the edge of my sword. Ten blood tentacles unfurled from my back, each tipped with barbed, razor-sharp crystallized blood.

    I took a deep breath and entered my Triquetra state.

    A burst of energy surged through me as my blood accelerated, providing more oxygen and nutrients to every part of my body.

    A cool sensation settled over my skin as a layer of ardor spread, reinforcing and strengthening my body.

    Time slowed around me, and my senses sharpened as I activated Transcendence.

    I could see every ripple on Asphodel''s body, hear the minute pulsing of the revolting roots, feel the particles of snow, and the disgusting energy the creature exuded.

    The air trembled, and the frozen ground cracked as I released part of my aura.

    Despite wanting to obliterate Asphodel, I knew I couldn''t defeat it.

    The rooty son of a bitch was a Master S-ranked being, while I was only a Master A-ranked warlock.

    Only an S rank can defeat another S rank. But that didn''t mean I couldn''t inflict a major wound.

    My chances of winning were none. I just wanted to wipe that fucking grin off its faceless face.

    Speaking of Asphodel... The daemon stood there, its featureless head grinning at me as if waiting for me to make the first move.

    Its grin widened further when it noticed my gaze and beckoned me to attack.

    My eye twitched. Oh, the fucking audacity!

    I also noticed that there were no signs of other survivors on the battlefield, which included the more experienced and high-ranking Deathwalkers.

    Asphodel had killed them all.

    Rage welled within me.

    The Abnormal daemon could kill me anytime it wanted.

    It didn''t have to engage in that short fight and wait for me to power up.

    The rooty son of a bitch was playing with me.

    I gritted my teeth, and my aura shook the ground.

    How dare you mock me?

    "Fine. I''ll play with you," I whispered and shot forward, obliterating the ground beneath my feet.

    In the blink of an eye, I was in front of Asphodel, the barbed tips of my appendages aimed at various parts of its body, and my sword aimed at its heart.

    Suddenly, black roots erupted from the daemon''s body, deflecting my appendages.

    One root shot toward my eye. I quickly shifted my head and held out my left hand. Scarlet runes swirled around my arm as I activated a familiar code.

    {Haema: Blood Grenade}

    The crimson explosion blew me away from Asphodel. Using my appendages, I straightened my body and landed on my feet.

    I clicked my tongue. My Blood Grenade had pushed back the daemon and staggered it, but it didn''t inflict even a single scratch.

    Asphodel looked at me, and a black fist appeared in my vision.

    Crap.

    Just as it seemed that Asphodel would knock my head off, I instinctively ducked and swung horizontally at its legs.

    The daemon jumped and shot a black root at me. Even in transcendence, I barely moved out of the way as the root drilled into the ground, spraying snow, dust, and rock fragments.

    Another flash of black, and I blocked multiple roots with my sword, slicing them off.

    Huh. That was easy. I expected some resistance to cutting the roots. Suddenly, a shadow appeared before me.

    Ah, shit.

    Asphodel came into my vision, and I immediately rolled away just as its fist slammed into the ground, shattering it and launching me into the air.

    I twisted midair to block another massive root aimed at my chest. Smaller roots erupted from the bigger ones and stabbed into my body.

    I winced in pain and slashed them away with my tentacles.

    {Haema: Shredding Gyroscopes}

    Multiple orbs of spinning rings composed of blood surrounded me as Asphodel approached. The daemon jumped back to avoid the orbs and skirted to my blind spot.

    That''s not going to work, you freak!

    I summoned numerous Vortex Bloodlances and launched them.

    Asphodel''s arms turned into multiple roots that swept away the bloodlances and went to shred the gyroscopes. A grin formed on my lips as its roots touched the orbs.

    You wish.

    I snapped my fingers. "Detonate."

    The gyroscopes exploded, creating multiple shockwaves and surprising Asphodel.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    Triquetra Overdrive.

    Blood surged inside my vessels, threatening to burst them.

    A musical hum filled my ears as the flow of ardor accelerated and reinforced my body.

    Time slowed to an almost still as I passed through the crimson clouds and reached Asphodel.

    My eyes locked on its hideous grin, and I readied my sword.

    Then it tilted its head toward me as if time had never slowed down, and its chest rippled.

    Shit.

    I unleashed a storm of sword slashes, deflecting and slicing the roots erupting from its chest.

    It felt like fighting a man with a hundred arms, each arm powerful enough to obliterate me.

    Powerful gusts of wind ripped through the air, and the ground shattered beneath our feet as I desperately deflected, blocked, and sliced at the roots.

    Even with Transcendence, I could barely see the paths of the roots. I had to predict most of them and act accordingly.

    Numerous wounds opened all over my body as we clashed viciously. For a hundred slashes I unleashed in a minute, just as many cuts appeared on my body, and only a single scratch reached Asphodel.

    I gritted my teeth. He''s too fast!

    With a furious yell, I unleashed my full aura, managing to inflict another scratch on the daemon''s body.

    Suddenly, Asphodel''s movements seized.

    My lips curled into a smile.

    The twenty-five percent chance of paralysis!

    It doesn''t matter if you are an S ranker; the paralysis of a Basilisk Emerald will get you.

    However, a being like Asphodel will only experience paralysis for a few seconds.

    But even a second is enough for me.

    A musical hum accompanied the flowing of blood as I combined ardor with my strand and slashed diagonally at the Abnormal''s chest.

    The attack connected, but a hand suddenly shot forward, grabbing my neck in the next split second.

    I struggled, my feet kicking the air as Asphodel lifted me into the air, its iron grip around my neck tightening.

    I noticed a gash on its chest oozing thick black liquid.

    Asphodel tilted its head down at its chest. Right before my eyes, the gash quickly closed up as if my attack had never touched it.

    It tilted its head up, its grin widening.

    My rage blazed hotter at the revolting sight.

    This entire time, the rooty bastard was playing with me. No matter how powerful my attacks, they wouldn''t matter to the Abnormal.

    Despite the dire situation and the rage burning in me, I couldn''t help but smile at the daemon.

    Then how about this?

    My tentacles unfurled behind me, and before Asphodel could react, they struck.

    The daemon''s body shuddered as three barbed tips pierced its black rooty neck.

    After fighting daemons for four years, I noticed a curious thing about them.

    Daemons have tough outer skin that just a weapon can''t pierce; one has to use ardor or strands.

    But there is one area on a daemon''s body where this tough layer thins out: the neck, specifically the area where the Adam''s apple is in humans.

    Most daemons have shadowy armor that protects this small weak spot.

    Most daemons except the weird ones.

    And Asphodel is definitely a batshit weird one.

    But it''s a weird one with that same weakness.

    And the only way to counter its ungodly reaction speed is to use some drastic and bloody measures.

    Blood flowed from my mouth and my body, pooling on the ground as I retracted the tentacles I drove through myself to get to Asphodel.

    The grip on my neck loosened, and I gasped for air. I held out my hand, scarlet runes encircling it.

    {Haema: Crimson Nova}

    A huge amount of blood swirled around us, coalescing into a growing sphere that surrounded us like a blood barrier.

    The sphere pulsed with power before condensing into a tiny marble in my palm.

    "Try tanking this," I taunted before the marble exploded, engulfing me and the Abnormal in a massive crimson explosion.

    I felt the wind rushing past me as I flew through the air, blown away by the explosion.

    My entire body felt like it was on fire, and the three gaping holes definitely weren''t helping.

    Merging my tentacles into massive wings, I stopped midair and surveyed the battlefield.

    A crimson mist hung over the huge area I just nuked with my most explosive code. Crimson and black flames burned fiercely, consuming the blood on the ground.

    My eyes narrowed at the black silhouette emerging from the mist and flames, completely unfazed by the destruction I unleashed.

    I clicked my tongue and dropped to the ground, using my strands to temporarily close the holes in my body.

    Taking deep breaths to control the pain, I took out a recovery potion and emptied its contents into my mouth. My mind cleared, and my healing sped up.

    I stood up, transforming my sword into the Fangs, and crossed them in front of me, ready for the next round.

    I would really appreciate reinforcements right now, specifically a Master S-ranked Knight of the Round named Kay.

    I entered my Triquetra state, and a second later, Asphodel stood before me, its terrifying grin unchanged.

    Instinctively, I jumped back, but Asphodel''s roots shot toward me, filling my vision.

    Damnit! They''re too fast! I can''t counter them!

    Just as they touched my face, the roots suddenly retracted. A crackling filled my ears, and red sparks surrounded me.

    Something wrapped around my waist and yanked me away just as a massive barrage of crimson lightning enveloped Asphodel, obliterating the surrounding area.

    Pieces of obliterated rock and a rain of crimson-melted snow rained down on me as someone caught me from behind.

    "You''re bloody amazing, Mordred!" Vanis Hectus remarked, her heterochromatic eyes gleaming with admiration. "You lasted ten minutes on your own against that freak. That could be a new record!"

    I blinked in surprise. Ten minutes?

    Wow. It felt shorter than that!

    "You guys took your sweet time," I grumbled as she helped me up.

    Deathwalkers popped into the battlefield in green flashes while Carlo continued to bombard Asphodel with lightning strikes powerful enough to shake the earth.

    Vanis shrugged. "We needed time to prepare."

    I narrowed my eyes. "If you guys are here, then I presume the Commander is not home?"

    Her expression turned grave as she nodded. "Indeed. He has gone to Camelot."

    I sighed. "Great."

    Standing straight, I gripped my daggers and looked ahead at the Deathwalkers, specifically Unit Captains and other powerful ones gathering to take on Asphodel.

    "Never imagined we would have to resort to Artemis''s insane plan," I remarked with a nervous chuckle.

    Vanis stood beside me and took out her sword. "The idea of the Hunters was something we all had in our minds. However, it was your vice-captain who was able to bring it to life," she said.

    My earpiece crackled, and I heard Artemis''s voice addressing everyone.

    "Greetings Hunters. This is Artemis Fray."

 95 This Day Cant Get Any Worse, Right?

    The Hunters of Asphodel.

    An elite unit composed of the Shield''s strongest Deathwalkers, created with a singular purpose: to confront Asphodel in the Commander''s absence.

    It was an insane idea that remained theoretical until Artemis proposed a battle strategy. Her plan was so ingenious that Kay put her in charge of the Hunters.

    It was quite a straightforward strategy: ensure Asphodel remains within the confines of the Shield until the Commander returns.

    Yeah, totally insane. But in Blood Valley, holding out for even five minutes can change the entire flow of the battle.

    The Hunters are divided into different groups based on their roles in the battle.

    The Vanguard consists of the strongest Spikers and Linkers who directly confront Asphodel. A Deathwalker of the Vanguard would unleash a powerful strike at Asphodel before immediately retreating while another would attack and retreat.

    This hit-and-run strategy would continue repeatedly, ensuring the daemon gets no time to pull off any stunts while gradually accumulating damage from the attacks.

    They have the most dangerous role, as a single wrong step or delay would mean a quick and horrible demise.

    Vanis and I are part of the Vanguard, with a few members of our Units acting as support. From my Unit, the support is Carlo and Krystal.

    After the Vanguard is the Artillery unit, composed of powerful Spiker archers and snipers, with their sights trained only on Asphodel; a team of Coders and Linkers specializing in long-range codes; and Deathwalkers manning the ardor rail guns and artillery in the Shield.

    Ava is in charge of one of the main rail guns due to her uncanny aim that surpasses even Felix Valion.

    Felix...

    If he were still alive, he would be either an archer or manning a rail gun, boosting morale with his bright personality and terrible jokes.

    Would I have walked this bloody path if Felix were still here?

    I shook my head. This was no time to dwell on the dead.

    Oh yeah, I almost forgot to mention the most important group of the Hunters: our life support, a team composed of the best healers in the Shield.

    These guys use a powerful and continuous healing code that heals any injury inflicted on the Vanguard. As long as you don''t die, you will be healed almost instantly.

    The healers are the most important part of the operation. If they fall, the entirety of the Hunters is doomed.

    So a team of powerful Spikers and Linkers are responsible for protecting the healers, along with a few Coders to use defensive codes and barriers over them.

    "Does the Commander know of the situation?" I asked Vanis.

    "Yeah, he''s on the way," she nodded.

    I frowned. "It took him three hours to reach Camelot, and he took a supersonic flight. Asphodel will destroy the Shield by the time he arrives."

    "He''s not arriving by flight. Merlin will teleport him," Vanis explained.

    "That''s good. Finally, there is some use to her powers," I remarked.

    "But it will take fifteen minutes," she added grimly.

    "WHAT?"

    Vanis nodded. "Merlin is in Avalon and it would take her fifteen minutes to reach the Royal Palace."

    "Can''t she just teleport into the lobby?" I asked incredulously.

    "The Royal Palace is a no-teleport zone," Vanis raised an eyebrow. "You''re a High Prince and you don''t know that?"

    My eye twitched. "I was in the bloody Dawn Palace and isolated most of my life."

    I turned my gaze back to the battlefield to see Asphodel turning a small group from the Vanguard into bloody decorations on its tentacles.

    "If that''s the case and he arrives in fifteen minutes... We''ll be dead by then."

    "True. That''s why I have a plan," Artemis''s voice spoke in my earpiece.

    I looked ahead, beyond the battle and Asphodel, my gaze fixed on the massive rift of swirling darkness, its mysterious gravity pulling at me. "Pushing that rooty bastard back into the Tear," I guessed.

    "Exactly! Did you read my mind, Captain?" Artemis confirmed, impressed.

    "Did you forget that I am a genius?" I asked.

    "Point taken. Anyway, you and Vanis are the biggest heavy hitters available right now. Minerva has come up with a simulation, and it''s possible to push Asphodel back into the Tear if it''s you two and with a lot of help," Artemis informed.

    "I''ll inform the rest of the Hunters to support you two," she added.

    "Alright then," I hopped on my spot, crouched, and looked at Vanis. "I guess we have to go crazy."

    She nodded. "Yep, I guess."

    Particles of light surrounded her as she activated her Lux strand, her crimson and purple eyes glowing with power.

    "Never thought I''d use Lux here," she remarked as her aura intensified, causing the ground to tremble.

    "Wouldn''t hurt to try, my friend," I replied and began to circulate ardor in my body.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    Triquetra Overdrive.

    The ground trembled and cracked under my feet as I gathered huge amounts of ardor.

    I guess it''s time to try out a new code I mastered.

    {Haema: Blood Loop}

    Blood swirled behind me and began to rapidly move around in a closed loop above my back.

    As the blood loop spins, it rapidly takes in ardor from the surroundings, increasing the speed of the loop''s movement.

    As the loop spins faster, more ardor is taken, further accelerating the loop.

    This means I would be getting a constant supply of ardor entering my body, enhancing it and boosting my attacks and my Haema strand.

    A Blood Loop requires intense focus and will break at the slightest faltering. But if I can maintain the loop, I will have an endless and rapidly regenerating supply of ardor.

    Blood appendages unfurled on our backs, each with a deadly barbed tip of crystallized blood.

    The air shook, crimson snow scattered, and the rocky ground cracked as we got ready to attack.

    I took a deep breath and announced, "On my mark, Vanis."

    "Got it," she leaned forward.

    I looked ahead at the clash between Asphodel and the Hunters. As I watched, Asphodel swiped at a Deathwalker who barely escaped with his life and suddenly its head turned toward me.

    Its unholy grin widened as my eyes fell on its featureless black visage.

    "Now," I said, and we took off.

    The ground shattered beneath our boots, a powerful shockwave ripping through the air as we launched ourselves at Asphodel.

    The Vanguard moved out of our way as we appeared before Asphodel in a blink.

    Blood and ardor swirled around our fists as we unleashed a barrage of powerful punches.

    The Abnormal crossed its arms, tanking our hits, each impact creating shockwaves.

    Black roots shot toward us from its rippling body.

    Our blood appendages intercepted them, but the black roots shattered the crystallized tips and ripped through. The appendages regenerated, and we launched another barrage of attacks.

    Asphodel went on the defensive. Vanis and I continued to pummel the daemon, slowly pushing it back.

    Vanis ignited the blood swirling around her fists, a flash of crimson and black flames. She unleashed powerful strikes infused with blood fire.

    I accelerated my Blood Loop, a surge of power coursing through me.

    Cranking up my Transcendence, I avoided life-deleting black roots and aimed my strikes at vital points.

    But Asphodel remained on the defensive, getting pushed back closer to the Tear.

    Is this creature still playing with us?

    Our appendages lashed out, suppressing the black roots. Ardor swirled around our fists as we entered a stance for a devastating strike.

    Suddenly, sharp roots shot toward Vanis''s stomach. She had no time to react and the Abnormal''s attack blew her away.

    "Vanis!" I yelled as Asphodel caught my attack, releasing a powerful shockwave as energy and ardor dissipated.

    Its grin widened as its grip tightened on my fist, black claws digging into my flesh.

    Agony and cold spread through my arm. Asphodel spun, still gripping my fist, and threw me across the battlefield.

    The force of the swing was so powerful that my entire right arm was torn from my body.

    I crashed into a boulder, blood trailing from my ripped stump. Pain engulfed me, especially in my shoulder where my arm was torn off.

    I gritted my teeth, activating partial blood reconstruction.

    A shadow fell over me. Asphodel loomed, holding my severed arm.

    It grinned, and my arm turned black in its grip, crumbling into ash.

    Ashes of what used to be my arm rained over me, and it stoked the burning rage in me toward this creature.

    "You''re fucking dead," I declared, rising despite the agony.

    I used Haema to close my stump and took out my dagger. A blood appendage gripped the second dagger, fusing the two daggers into my white sword.

    Holding my sword in my left hand, I faced Asphodel and entered Triquetra Overdrive.

    The daemon raised its fist to obliterate me.

    Not going to happen.

    Transcendence: Absolute Nirvana.

    Time stopped. Everything froze. Even Asphodel moved as if through syrup. But its movements quickened with each passing second. I needed to act fast.

    Streaming ardor along my sword''s edge, I sharpened it to the utmost limit. Accelerating my blood, I stepped forward, cracking the ground.

    Ducking under Asphodel''s fist, I aimed my sword at its heart.

    "You are so much fun, little prince," a deep, distorted voice echoed in my mind.

    My sword stopped inches from Asphodel''s chest. I looked up, seeing its grin widen despite my Transcendence state.

    Did the daemon... just talk?

    A flash of light nearly blinded me. Asphodel staggered away from me as numerous light swords sprouted from its back.

    "Mordred!" Vanis yelled, landing beside me.

    Her eyes glowed with power, hundreds of light swords forming a mechanical wing over her left shoulder.

    Along with the blood appendages, light runes, and the Blood Loop over her head, she looked like an angel of blood and light.

    "Your arm," she noted, concern flashing over her cold facade.

    "I''ll get a prosthetic," I shrugged, focusing Haema on my stump.

    Blood swirled, elongating into a blood arm with claws lined with crystallized blood. I flexed the clawed fingers.

    This will do for now.

    Vanis looked impressed. "Even I can''t construct an arm out of blood or even light. You and Iris are the only ones who can."

    I switched my sword to my new arm and swung, releasing a gust of wind laden with ardor.

    "I haven''t reached Iris''s level," I noted the stiffness in my blood arm.

    "I can see that," Vanis agreed, looking up. "I didn''t expect Asphodel to throw you here."

    "Yeah," I said, gazing at the Tear. An eerie purple glow accompanied the swirling darkness.

    "This is the first time I''m this close to the Tear. And now I want to be as far away from it," I said.

    "Your light swords did some damage," I nodded.

    Asphodel loomed in the distance, its grin gone, replaced by a smooth black canvas.

    "Let''s stop playing, shall we?" Asphodel''s distorted voice rolled over us.

    Vanis froze her cool facade breaking. "Did that creature just... talk?"

    "Yep. It or ''he'' did," I nodded, looking at my sword and then at her.

    "I''m going to use ''that''."

    Vanis''s eyes widened. "You''ll destroy yourself, Mordred. I taught you that for extreme cases."

    "It has, and it''s flying everywhere," I held my sword in a reverse grip. "I''ve destroyed my body countless times, Vanis."

    "This is different! You might never recover," she warned. "It might turn you into a monster. Don''t make me hunt you down."

    I smiled. "You worry too much, Vanis. I''ll be fine. You''ve seen it. I''m not affected much by it."

    "This day can''t get any worse, right?"

 96 A Goddess Calls Me Cutie

    After a lot of trial and error, I finally understood my stigma.

    Well, trial and error accompanied by crippling headaches and being unable to swing a stick for hours.

    One thing I learned is that I don''t necessarily have to execute the skills I copy immediately after observing my target. I can use them about ten or fifteen minutes after gaining them.

    This way, I can accumulate skills and execute them within that window. And even after using the skills, I can copy them again.

    Unfortunately, the penalty of being skillless increases with the time I keep them. It was so bad that I couldn''t even properly swing a stick.

    Oh, and the headaches are absolutely atrocious.

    The second thing I learned is that I could actually store copied skills for much longer periods.

    For example, I could observe Carlo''s skills and store them in my mind for months, using them when needed.

    However, the skills I store for the long term can only be used once and can''t be copied again. The penalty extends to a complete loss of motor function, making it impossible to even move my pinky.

    Thankfully, the immobilization lasts only as long as I use the skills, not the duration I store them.

    But with the worst headache imaginable and intense body pain, I literally forget how to move.

    Yeah, Talent Echo is a brutal stigma.

    And the number of skills I can store is very limited, only able to store skills from two people at a time.

    Currently, I have the skills of two powerful individuals in my head: Kay and Vanis.

    The third thing I learned is that, theoretically, I could combine the skills of these two powerhouses.

    Emphasis on ''theoretical''.

    Using two skills simultaneously would be disastrous.

    My mind would shatter, my brain would fry, and my muscles would tear themselves apart.

    A whole plethora of nasty side effects would destroy my very being unless I do something even more ambitious.

    Remove my limiter.

    Every living being in this universe has a limiter. The only ones without one are the X-ranked beings like the Crowns and the Incarni.

    However, there''s a way to remove one''s limiter temporarily, especially for Haema users.

    I looked at Vanis. "Keep him busy for me."

    The Saintslayer narrowed her eyes. "You sure about this?"

    I smiled. "Pretty sure."

    Vanis sighed. "Fine."

    She levitated above the ground and vanished in a flash of light.

    A powerful shockwave ripped through the ground as she locked her sword with Asphodel''s roots. Numerous swords of light appeared above them and rained down on the Abnormal.

    In the blink of an eye, hundreds of black roots erupted from Asphodel''s body, intercepting the swords and dissipating them into particles of light.

    But Vanis wasn''t the only one attacking the Abnormal. Projectiles and long-range attacks rained down on the battling duo as they moved around the Tear in a deadly dance of death.

    Vanis''s blood appendages countered Asphodel''s black roots while her bright sword wings unleashed a constant barrage of light swords.

    She maintained her distance, unleashing powerful attacks of Lux and Haema in tandem, each impact releasing powerful shockwaves.

    Asphodel moved like a flitting shadow, skillfully avoiding projectiles and attacking Vanis with its infinite black roots.

    Its attacks, previously chaotic, were now purposeful, like a hunter chasing difficult prey.

    Is this thing really a daemon?

    "Artemis. How long until the Commander arrives?" I asked into my earbuds.

    "Seven minutes," she replied.

    I gritted my teeth. We won''t last that long!

    Suddenly, massive black spikes made of roots appeared above Asphodel and shot toward the Shield.

    Screams and explosions followed as the spikes hit our ardor rail guns with terrifying precision.

    "What in the name of the Incarni was that?!" Artemis exclaimed into my ear.

    "Looks like Asphodel is getting serious," I said, keeping my eyes fixed on the battle.

    "When are you going to join us, little prince?" Asphodel''s distorted voice taunted as a huge black root erupted from its chest, forcing Vanis to shift to avoid being impaled.

    "Just wait, you creep," I muttered, lifting my sword and aiming the pointy end at my stomach. Taking a deep breath, I coated the white blade with ardor and plunged it into my body.

    I gasped as pain exploded through my torso, but I gritted my teeth, pushed the sword deeper, and began to chant.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    "Incarnus of Haema, Goddess of Madness, Lady of Blood. I call upon you to free me from the shackles that bind my being. Pour your madness upon me so that I may become an incarnation of your madness."

    Blood flowed from the wound, and I could feel my strand scrambling to heal the damage. But I suppressed the healing, gritting my teeth.

    This is a huge gamble. The Haema Incarnus rarely interferes with Asteris and has no current faction.

    The chant I used is from an ancient faction of the Incarnus that is now extinct. Vanis learned it from the Order of Lux archives and taught it to me as a fellow Haema user.

    There''s a high chance I ran my sword through my body for nothing, but I have no other options left.

    Please hear me, you maniacal being.

    "May your madness take the world!" I continued, pushing the sword deeper.

    "MAY MADNESS TAKE THE WORLD!"

    My shout echoed across the valley, silencing everything.

    Nothing.

    My vision blurred, and blood pooled around my boots.

    Damnit.

    I''m going to die from a self-inflicted stab. The healers won''t reach me in time, and my strand can''t heal this wound fast enough.

    Even in this world, the divine has abandoned me.

    Shit.

    "Well, that is just rude," a female voice spoke in my ear.

    I blinked, trying to register what just happened, while a soft chuckle echoed in my mind.

    "You are an interesting child. It has been a long time since someone used that incantation to call me."

    Before I could respond, she spoke again.

    "Very well. I shall bestow my madness upon you, and since you are a cutie, I''ll ensure the damage isn''t too severe or permanent."

    Crimson runes appeared around the hilt of my sword, and a large circle of runes formed on my stomach around the blade.

    A searing pain emanated from the blade, and whispers echoed in my head, growing louder with each passing second.

    I collapsed to my knees, pressing my hands over my ears, trying to drown out the voices.

    Maniacal laughter, screams of terror, and cries of despair echoed in my head as the searing pain spread through my body.

    My breathing became ragged, and when I opened my mouth to scream out in pain, no sound came out.

    My vision filled with red, and the voices deafened me.

    Among them, the Haema Incarnus''s amused voice was the loudest.

    "Now you will experience true freedom, my child. I look forward to the madness you will become."

    *******

    "Mordred!"

    Vanis yelled as her eyes fell on the young man collapsed on his knees with his sword through his body.

    Crimson runes circled around the hilt of the sword and on his torso as if something was being sealed within him.

    Her heart lurched, but there was no time to react emotionally; Asphodel''s fist nearly took her head off.

    With a powerful gust of wind, she quickly flew back, launching another volley of light swords at the daemon.

    As the swords reached within an inch of Asphodel''s body, the daemon vanished, leaving only a wisp of dark energy in its wake.

    Instinctively, Vanis raised her sword just in time. That act saved her life as Asphodel suddenly appeared in front of her, aiming a body-obliterating punch at her torso.

    She blocked the powerful attack and was blown away by the sheer force of the punch.

    Curling into a fetal position, she crashed into the frozen ground, her wing of swords shattering on impact and her blood appendages flailing around.

    "Ow," she groaned, quickly using Haema and Lux to heal her injuries. She got up to see Asphodel approaching her.

    "Is this all you got, Paladin?" the daemon''s distorted voice sounded disappointed.

    It extended its right arm. Black roots writhed and converged to form a sharp black blade fused to its arm.

    "You seem awfully chatty," she remarked, readying her sword. A Blood Loop formed above her head as she activated her second strand.

    {Lux: Purification Blades}

    Particles of light converged to form three huge longswords, their deadly tips turned toward Asphodel.

    Vanis took a deep breath and lunged forward, her boots cracking the ground beneath her.

    "Artemis! Fire!" she yelled as she dashed forward.

    The sky filled with hundreds of projectiles fired from the remaining rail guns.

    Without a backward glance, Asphodel lazily swung its black blade. A wave of black energy swept across the sky, annihilating all the projectiles.

    In the blink of an eye, Vanis appeared before Asphodel and swung her sword in a wide arc, aiming for the neck.

    The daemon leaned backward, but before it could react further, Vanis ducked forward and one of the Purification Blades shot toward its chest at point-blank range.

    The sword plunged into Asphodel''s chest, forcing the daemon back.

    Asphodel looked down at the sword of light sticking out of its chest and effortlessly pulled it out, crushing the weapon into particles of light.

    Without wasting a second, it lunged forward, launching a relentless assault on Vanis, its black blade ready to slice her apart.

    Vanis gritted her teeth, skillfully dodging and deflecting most of the attacks. Numerous wounds appeared on her body from the sheer force of the deflected attacks.

    Asphodel''s unrelenting strength threatened to overwhelm her; only her experience and razor-sharp reflexes kept her alive.

    "I''m not going to have any kind of foothold here," Vanis muttered, ducking low to avoid having her head chopped off.

    In that second, she rapidly spun her second Purification Blade and fired it at Asphodel. With a flick of the black blade, the daemon shattered the longsword.

    But Vanis wasn''t aiming for an attack. Two huge wings of light formed behind her and she flew away from the daemon.

    Catching her breath, she asked Artemis, "How long till the Commander arrives?"

    "Four minutes."

    "Fuck!" she cursed, looking down at Asphodel, its faceless head raised toward her.

    Just as she readied her third Purification Blade for another shot, maniacal laughter echoed across the valley.

    "I CAN''T BELIEVE I REALLY DID THAT!" Mordred''s voice echoed all around her.

    Suddenly, her wings shattered, and she saw a blood tentacle wrap tightly around her ankle. The next thing she knew, she was viciously yanked down into the ground.

    Pain flared all over her body as she struggled to get up. Between her rapid breaths, she rasped, "What are you doing, Mordred?"

    Why is he suddenly attacking her out of nowhere?

    Mordred Pendragon came into focus in her blurred vision. He sat on his haunches to meet her and looked down at her.

    His snowy white hair swayed as a frigid wind blew across the valley, and his crimson eyes glowed with a mad light.

    His lips curled into a maniacal smile as he spoke.

    "You looked quite dumb floating in the air with those silly wings. So I clipped them."

 97 Madness

    "I looked silly?"

    Vanis asked in utter bewilderment, completely forgetting the injuries she sustained.

    I nodded. "Yeah. You reminded me of the birds I watched flying outside while I was confined in the Dawn Palace."

    "Seeing them so free boiled my blood," I sneered, my voice dripping with malice. "Every time I saw them, I wished I could just clip off their wings and put them in a glass box for the rest of their lives."

    "But I will have to suffice with you," I giggled, the sound high-pitched and deranged. "You do look like a bird that just lost its wings. Bewildered and injured after plunging to the ground."

    "What the hell happened to you?" Vanis asked, her face contorted with pain and shock as she tried to get up.

    "I have attained freedom," I replied and activated Haema. Blood swirled above Vanis, forming two spikes that hardened into crystallized blood.

    With a flick of my finger, they drove into Vanis''s legs, pinning her to the frozen ground.

    "What are you doing?!" Artemis yelled into my earpiece as Vanis''s scream, now music to my ears, echoed all over the valley.

    "She said she would hunt me down," I replied, looking down at Vanis taking deep breaths, her eyes wide with pain and confusion. "I can''t have that."

    A gust of wind ruffled my torn uniform and a shadow fell on me.

    "Interesting, isn''t it?" I glanced back at Asphodel''s blank visage.

    "Humans can be worse than daemons."

    I turned around and faced the Abnormal. Despite the monstrosity before me, I felt a sense of unnatural calm.

    "Hey there, big guy!" I waved cheerfully at its face. "You look very handsome without the face."

    My lips curled into a grin. "Or were you so ugly you had to delete your face to look handsome?"

    "I''m pretty sure there were better face care routines for that."

    There was silence after I said that. The daemon''s head tilted slightly as if processing my words.

    "Mordred. Are you cracking jokes with the deadliest Abnormal standing before you?" Vanis asked from the ground, her voice tinged with shock and pain.

    I glanced back at her. "What else am I supposed to do? Make out with it?"

    There was a stunned silence after my words. Even Asphodel took a step back.

    I was disappointed. "So you''re not into that?"

    The daemon just stood there, its head tilted to the side, regarding me with its empty, blank visage.

    Looking at the Abnormal I spoke into my earpiece. "Artemis. How long until the Commander arrives?"

    "In about a minute."

    "Ah," my lips curled into a smile as a fun idea popped up in my head.

    "Minerva, my dear sweet AI," I called her in a sickly sweet voice.

    "Yeah?" she asked uneasily, clearly uncomfortable.

    "Delay my dear uncle," I said, still in that unsettlingly sweet tone.

    "WHAT?"

    Artemis, Minerva, and Vanis yelled out in unison.

    "Are you insane?" the Shield''s AI asked, her voice rising in shock.

    My grin widened. "Of course I am! Why do you think I stabbed myself and called upon the Goddess of Madness?"

    I swung my bloodied sword in the air, laughing maniacally as a powerful gust of wind shattered the side of the valley beside me.

    Crimson runes glowed along the length of the blade and a red smoke emanated from the sword.

    "I can take on the handsome boy over there," I declared.

    "I will not delay him," Minerva replied, her voice steady.

    I sighed dramatically. "Very well then."

    I switched my sword to my left hand and extended my temporary blood right hand to the daemon.

    "What do you think about working together? I know you can understand me," I said casually.

    "MORDRED PENDRAGON! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Minerva yelled in my ear while Vanis looked at me in utter shock.

    "What am I doing? Well, I am joining hands with Asphodel to fight Kay and destroy the Shield," I replied and laughed.

    "I''ve always wanted to fight either Kay or Asphodel to the death and since you denied me the opportunity to fight with Asphodel, I am afraid I would have to face my dear uncle."

    My laughter echoed all over the valley. "This is going to be epic! A daemon and a Deathwalker working together to bring down the sole defense that is keeping the horrors of the Tear at bay!"

    "You think you can take on the Commander?" Minerva asked dangerously.

    I scoffed. "I have the combined skills of Vanis and Kay ingrained in my very being. My limiter has also been removed. You should be asking if Kay could take me on."

    "He''s telling the truth, Minerva. Taking on the Madness of the Haema Incarnus has removed his limiter," Vanis said in a strained voice as she struggled to free herself.

    I turned around and looked down at her with a smile. "Thanks, Vanis. I really appreciate that support!"

    I snapped my fingers and two more blood spikes materialized above her and plunged into her knees.

    I giggled as her screams drowned out Minerva''s words in my ears.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    "That''s my gift to you. Enjoy your shattered kneecaps!"

    Straightening my body, I finally heard what that pesky AI was talking about.

    "What you are doing is treason, Mordred," she warned, her voice cold.

    "So what? You are equally guilty, Minerva."

    My smile widened. "After all. You were the one who gave complete control over Processing Room 12''s barrier to the Karsus spy on that day."

    "That''s..." the cold AI''s voice wavered, a rare hesitation.

    I shrugged, my voice laced with genuine sympathy. "I kind of understand why you did that. You had no choice. That guy knew where to poke you painfully. He knew your weakness."

    "What are you talking about, Captain?" Artemis asked. "That guy hacked into Minerva to get control!"

    I burst out laughing. "Minerva hacked? By that dumbass?"

    Still laughing, I said. "My dear Artemis. No one can hack Minerva! Not even Merlin can do that! Her getting hacked was a convenient excuse. She cooked it up to hide the truth."

    Turning to Asphodel, I held out a finger. "Can you wait a bit? I want to screw over Minerva."

    To everyone''s shock, the daemon nodded and even gave a thumbs-up before plopping onto the ground.

    "I don''t know what happened to you, little prince. But things are getting interesting. So I will wait," Asphodel''s horrific grin returned as it rested on the ground.

    "What am I seeing?" Artemis asked, her shocked voice clear in my earpiece.

    "The fruits of madness, my dear Artemis," I answered and switched to Minerva.

    "Now. Since my uncle could arrive at any moment, let me tell you something, Minerva."

    "When I was done with that spy, just before he died, I asked him how he gained control over the barrier. He told me something interesting. He said that he used your weakness."

    "You... are bluffing," Minerva stammered, in a voice I never imagined she even had.

    A voice filled with fear.

    I smiled manically and hugged myself, finding it difficult to control this sudden exhilaration.

    "Oh, I am not bluffing Minerva," I visualized her human avatar before me.

    Imagining her cold blue eyes trembling with fear and her nervously fidgeting body gave me sadistic pleasure.

    The mad whispers resurfaced as I inched closer to the abyss of insanity. The raw power flaring inside me is raring to be free.

    Please wait a bit more, my sweet power. We will be free. So please wait.

    "Listen, Minerva. When my new best friend and I tear apart the Shield, I will make sure to use your weakness to destroy you," I said, my voice dripping with venom.

    Minerva''s voice trembled as she spoke. "You wouldn''t! If you do that-"

    "The Shield will collapse and not even Kay would be able to handle the fall," I interrupted her, savoring the moment.

    "And that''s your nightmare," I taunted. "For the forgotten child of Merlin overshadowed by her younger sister. Fulfilling your duty as the Shield''s AI is the only thing that defines your existence. It is the only candle you can hold to the superiority of Ace."

    "The Shield has become your everything. It has also become your prison that you can never escape from. I will raze it to the ground, the very meaning of existence before I destroy you."

    I continued with a sadistic smile. "The fall of the Shield would unleash the daemons into the world and you will fail your duty. The only thing Merlin entrusted you to do and you will fail her."

    Silence spread over everything as if the very mountain was holding its breath.

    "Minerva," I called her name softly, almost tenderly, as if to a lover. "Will you delay Kay?"

    There was a short silence before she responded. "You are an abominable monster."

    "I am the monster you guys created," I responded in a cold voice.

    "Very well. I will delay the Commander."

    I grinned. "Thank you!"

    In a flash, I was in front of Asphodel.

    Before the daemon could react, I plunged my sword straight into its chest. The white blade sank into its black flesh like a knife through a well-cooked steak.

    "Sorry buddy! The alliance is off! Let''s kill each other!" I squealed like an excited child.

    Asphodel''s hideous grin widened, and it rose to its feet, unfazed by my sword in its chest.

    "I expected much, little prince."

    *******

    "Minerva! What is the situation?!"

    Kay yelled out immediately as he teleported into his office.

    "Asphodel is in front of the Tear and is engaged in combat," the AI responded immediately into his earpiece.

    The Knight of the Round frowned when he heard her voice. Minerva sounded unusually odd as if she was shaken by something.

    "Minerva. What is happening?" he asked, his voice tight with concern.

    "The rail guns are destroyed, and the Vanguard is compromised. We have heavy casualties, but they are being taken care of," she reported, her voice wavering slightly.

    "What about Asphodel?" Kay took out his sword, his eyes glowing fiercely.

    "Captains Vanis and Mordred drove it to the Tear, and that''s when it started talking."

    He frowned. "Asphodel talked?"

    "Yes, Commander. Captain Vanis has been taken down and is currently unable to fight. Captain Mordred is engaged in combat with Asphodel right now." Minerva''s voice trembled when she mentioned Mordred''s name.

    Kay froze. "Mordred... is fighting Asphodel?"

    "Yes, Commander."

    He gritted his teeth, and the office trembled as his aura leaked out.

    "Teleport me immediately!" he ordered.

    He expected the familiar green flash of Minerva''s teleportation to take him before the Tear in any second.

    Except, nothing happened.

    "Minerva. Teleport me," he said, his voice a low growl.

    "I... I can''t, Commander," she replied, unease evident in her tone.

    His eyes narrowed, glinting dangerously. He stormed over to his office door and grabbed the handle.

    It didn''t budge.

    "What is the meaning of this, Minerva?" Kay asked, his voice a dangerous whisper as the trembling intensified.

    "He... he told me to delay you," the AI stammered nervously.

    Kay''s eyebrows furrowed. Why was Minerva obeying someone else?

    "Minerva. What is happening?" he growled.

    "Mordred has accepted the Madness of the Haema Incarnus. He was the one who took out Captain Vanis," the AI said, her voice quivering.

    Kay was shocked. "He accepted the Madness?"

    "Yes. He has become a monster, sir. He... threatened me," Minerva''s voice broke. "I had no choice."

    Kay''s mind raced.

    Mordred threatened Minerva? How?

    A recent memory resurfaced, causing him to freeze up.

    The only time he had seen Minerva like this was a year ago, the day of Iris''s incident.

    That was the day the AI begged him for forgiveness.

    His face turned grave. "Minerva. Did he figure it out?"

    "Yes. He knows my weakness. He even threatened to join hands with Asphodel and destroy the Shield," was Minerva''s reply, each word dripping with dread.

    Kay sighed heavily. "The Madness of the Haema Incarnus. There is no way to stop someone who accepted it."

    "Mordred said he would defeat Asphodel. He said he could even beat you," she pointed out, her tone almost pleading.

    He nodded reluctantly. "That''s because he can. He probably accepted the Madness to remove his limiter. Removing the limiter enables him to combine mine and Vanis''s skills."

    Clenching his fist, he muttered, "I should''ve arrived sooner."

    He looked ahead, his resolve hardening. "Show me the live footage. If things get out of hand, you must teleport me to the battlefield."

    "But Commander, if I do that-" Minerva protested.

    "Nothing will happen to you or the Shield. I will make sure of that," he declared, his blue eyes turning cold as ice.

    "Even if it means I have to kill Mordred."

 98 And Everything Turned Black

    [Vanis Hectus]

    Terrifying.

    That was the only word that came to mind as I watched the clash unfolding before my eyes.

    Pieces of black roots fell everywhere as Mordred and Asphodel engaged in a battle that was starting to look one-sided.

    Bloodfire enveloped his sword, arcing across the battlefield as he wielded it with a mastery that surpassed mine.

    I had seen the Commander take on Asphodel once, and it was a fight I would never forget.

    Now, as I lay on the ground before the massive Tear, immobilized by the agonizing pain of my shattered knees, it felt like I was watching the Commander fight again.

    But this was different.

    Mordred dodged every attack thrown at him by the daemon, laughing maniacally as each deadly punch or root sailed past his body.

    It was as if he were toying with Asphodel.

    Watching him fight was like watching the Commander and me fighting the daemon together.

    Every slash, every thrust, every parry��his moves echoed the swordsmanship that the Commander and I had spent years perfecting.

    But something was wrong.

    Mordred never stuck to using one set of skills. He seamlessly switched between the Commander''s techniques and mine with uncanny speed, bordering on insanity.

    Insanity.

    That was what disturbed me most.

    I was witnessing our skills wielded by a madman, twisted by the Madness driving him.

    The Commander''s skills, once symbols of awe and reverence, now terrified me in Mordred''s hands.

    The skills I had mastered, the ones that elevated me to the position of a Paladin, now filled me with disdain.

    The Madness of the Haema Incarnus is unlike any other form of insanity.

    It is a twisted freedom, stripping away guilt, remorse, loyalty, and morality��everything that makes us human.

    It liberates and damns you, making you a monster who would watch the world burn.

    It makes you feel nothing: no fear, no pain, no love.

    Just nothing.

    And feeling nothing is the greatest exhilaration.

    How do I know this? I had accepted the Madness before.

    It was the only way I could''ve stood a chance against the S-ranked Paladins guarding the Saint.

    The Madness consumed my soul as I tore through those who stood in my way, and I felt nothing.

    And that was the most exhilarating feeling I had ever experienced.

    I still hear the deranged laughter that escaped my lips, echoing through the blood-stained halls.

    By the time I snapped out of it, I stood in a sea of blood and Bloodfire, with the Saint before me, consumed by the crimson and black flames.

    The words he spoke as Bloodfire burned his body brought me back to my senses, silencing the whispers of Madness, but they returned as soon as he was gone.

    Those whispers haunt me to this day.

    Watching Mordred fight Asphodel, pushing back the daemon with his insane laugh, I couldn''t help but wonder.

    Did I really look that deranged back then?

    Blood flowed from my wounds, wrapping around my legs as my strand healed my shattered knees, removing the blood spikes.

    After accepting the Madness, Mordred''s mastery over blood crystallization and Bloodfire had reached unprecedented levels.

    Combined with the skills he copied from me and the Commander, he was possibly the strongest warlock in the Shield right now.

    And yet, his combat experience seemed far beyond his years.

    I became a Paladin at the age of fifteen and served the Order for five years until I killed the Saint. After that, I was a Deathwalker for another five years.

    I have ten years of combat experience and Mordred''s experience somehow surpassed mine.

    It was as if he were a highly experienced fighter in a past life.

    I shook my head. No, that''s impossible. Something like past lives only happens in books.

    I grunted as my strand reconstructed my knees and closed my wounds with surgical precision.

    "Artemis. Has the Commander arrived?" I asked, trying to stand.

    "Yes, but Minerva has locked him in his office," she replied, her voice uneasy. "Vanis, is this the only way?"A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    I nodded grimly. "The only method we have."

    "Is there a way to bring him back?" Artemis asked in a worried tone.

    "Mordred has the high ground. Asphodel will either be destroyed or flee," I replied, hardening my gaze. "The Abnormal will likely flee into the Tear."

    Light particles floated around me, healing any remaining wounds and strengthening my body. "I will take on Mordred when that happens."

    Switching channels, I said, "Minerva, can you hear me?"

    "Yes?" she responded uneasily.

    "As soon as Asphodel enters the Tear, teleport the Commander and Unit 21 to my position. They are the only ones who can bring him back," I instructed.

    "But Vanis��"

    I cut her off. "You''re not in a position to give your opinion, Minerva. It''s either that or I kill Mordred."

    There was a silence before she conceded. "Very well."

    I nodded. It felt strange to see Minerva like this.

    Turning my attention back to the epic clash before me, I narrowed my eyes at the deranged Mordred.

    "I''m going to smack you back into your senses, child."

    *******

    [Back to Mordred]

    I could get used to this.

    Bloodfire danced around me, its crimson and black flames singing a deadly symphony with each slash at Asphodel.

    The Abnormal focused on defense, but my blade sliced effortlessly through its thick, rooty body.

    Black ooze gushed from the numerous wounds, and the intense Bloodfire hindered its healing, if only for a moment.

    But that moment was enough for me.

    Delighted laughter bubbled up as I weaved around the daemon, combining the sword mastery of my uncle and Vanis in an intricate, mad, and deadly dance.

    Each swing was meticulous, and calculated with no wasted movements, only death-dealing precision.

    A single small cut from my blade is fatal.

    Sparks and Bloodfire flashed as Asphodel blocked my downward slash, releasing a shockwave of ardor and flames.

    Numerous black roots shot toward me.

    I squealed like a child with a new toy, my blood tentacles unfurling to slice the roots from their tips.

    A bundle of black roots erupted from Asphodel''s shoulder, forming a giant fist that swiped at me.

    "Bro, you are full of surprises!" I giggled, dodging the fist and unleashing multiple slashes in seconds, reducing it to rooty fish finger looking thingies.

    Quick as lightning, I grabbed them and flung them toward the Abnormal''s face. "Try this! I heard they''re a delicacy."

    Leaning forward, I rushed at Asphodel, swinging at its torso. It leaned back, black roots bubbling from its waist.

    Just as my attack missed, I turned my sword, slicing into Asphodel''s leg.

    I leaped back as a smooth black blade obliterated the ground where I stood a second ago. The roots in the Abnormal''s arm twitched.

    "Oops," I stuck out my tongue.

    Rocks and snow erupted as Asphodel dragged its blade through the rocky ground in a powerful upward slash.

    I leaned back, the blade''s tip a mere inch from my nose. A wisp of black energy glowed on its edge.

    "Shit." I jumped aside, barely dodging a wave of black energy that sliced into the valley wall, causing a massive rockslide.

    I zipped around Asphodel, firing multiple Vortex Bloodlances from behind.

    Roots swatted the crimson spears, but using Kay''s footwork and Vanis''s sword skills, I rushed forward, avoiding and slashing the roots, burning them with Bloodfire.

    In a blink, I reached Asphodel''s back and stabbed. The white blade plunged into its flesh and ignited it.

    Quickly, I splashed some blood and jumped back, avoiding the roots like a monkey as Asphodel''s back burned with crimson and black flames.

    The Abnormal turned and unleashed a wall of black blades and roots. I blocked and parried them all, laughing hysterically.

    I could see every attack!

    The force of the attacks ripped my skin and chipped my flesh, but I felt nothing. It felt awesome!

    It was purely ecstatic!

    Powerful winds whipped across the landscape, shockwaves echoing through the valley as we fought before the Tear.

    A fun spark entered my mind, and I suddenly leaped forward, letting the demon''s black blade pass through my body with a funny-sounding squelch.

    Asphodel''s distorted voice echoed in my mind, "You are truly insane, little prince."

    Giggling at my warped reflection on the daemon''s head, I said, "You have a really shiny head! Hey, wanna know a secret?"

    I leaned in, my grin widening. "I put a bomb in you."

    I immediately detonated Blood Grenade and a crimson explosion followed, Bloodfire blowing me off the blade and slamming me into a rock.

    Getting up, I examined my wounds and whistled. I have a gaping hole in my stomach and burned hands.

    I sniffed my sizzling and cooked arms. "Man, that smells delicious."

    Asphodel emerged from the smoke, a gaping hole in its body covered in Bloodfire.

    Without wasting a second, I got up and entered my Triquetra state.

    I was beside the Abnormal in a flash. "Pal, I''m injured, so gimme a hand," I said, slicing off its arm.

    Using one of my blood appendages, I grabbed the arm spinning in midair and rammed it into the healing hole.

    "How about that! You precious little rooty bitch!" I exclaimed with absolute excitement.

    I plunged my sword into Asphodel''s foot, pinning it down. My blood tentacles rose and plunged their crystallized tips into its body.

    Black ooze splashed over me, my uniform sizzling, the smell of burning skin wafting into my nose.

    Huh. Black ooze from daemons is kind of corrosive.

    You learn new things.

    The whispers in my ear grew louder as I looked at Asphodel''s faceless head. "Enjoying the Mordred Special?" I asked, channeling the power of Haema and forming a Blood Nova in my palm.

    "This is quite the pinch," Asphodel remarked. "I hadn''t thought this through."

    Tilting my head, I said, "Of course, you didn''t, you dimwitted roots and sadism for brains!"

    "I believe it''s time for me to take my leave."

    Offended, I replied, "You ain''t going nowhere, mister!"

    Asphodel turned its head. "And you''re coming with me."

    "Huh?"

    Numerous roots erupted from its back, rushing toward me. I dismissed Blood Nova and jumped back but was slammed into the ground.

    A black root twisted around my legs. Before I could react, the roots engulfed me.

    "Oh well. I guess this is it," I muttered, catching a glimpse of Vanis rushing toward me, hand outstretched, calling my name.

    "MORDRED!"

    I smiled. "Ay, Vanis. You look really hot!"

    And everything turned black.

 99 Mordred Pendragon Is Dead

    "MORDRED!"

    Vanis channeled ardor into her legs and shot forward as the black roots engulfed Mordred, swallowing him like the gaping maw of an ancient and terrible monster.

    Their eyes met, and Mordred smiled at her. "Ay, Vanis! You look really hot!"

    Those were his last words before the roots enveloped him entirely, forming a twisted black cocoon.

    Vanis released her aura, and the very air around her shook.

    "Minerva! Now!" she yelled, her voice cracking under desperation.

    Immediately, multiple green flashes surrounded Asphodel, followed by Kay''s voice bellowing across the valley.

    "ASPHODEL!" He blinked to Vanis''s side, the rest of Unit 21 teleporting around the Abnormal, their weapons poised to strike.

    Kay unleashed a precise strike at Asphodel without wasting a second while Vanis and the Lunatics directed powerful, ardor-laden attacks at the daemon.

    Crimson lightning tore through the sky, powerful winds howled across the valley, and huge spikes of ice rushed toward Asphodel, accompanied by a raging stream of water and silver flames as the Lunatics unleashed their powers upon Asphodel.

    Blood appendages tipped with crystallized blood shot forward, locking onto the daemon, followed by swords of blood and light as Vanis stepped forward, her white blade glowing with Lux.

    Time seemed to slow as the attacks converged, closing in on Asphodel from every direction.

    But then, Asphodel''s disgusting grin widened, and its voice echoed in their ears.

    "I will enjoy your company later, humans."

    A powerful pulse of black energy exploded out of Asphodel, blasting everyone away.

    Everyone except Kay.

    "You''re not going anywhere!" he roared, executing a powerful upward slash.

    The attack connected, severing Asphodel''s arm, and sending it flying through the air.

    But as Kay moved to follow up with another attack, a thick wall of black roots erupted from the ground, blocking his path.

    Cursing, he slashed the roots into ribbons, only to see Asphodel transform into a mass of writhing roots, enveloping the cocoon that trapped Mordred.

    In a blink, Kay was behind Asphodel, sword ready to strike, but another thick root intercepted his blade.

    "Let''s dance later, Kay," Asphodel''s distorted voice taunted as the daemon, now a mass of roots resembling an octopus, flew into the Tear, disappearing into its endlessly swirling darkness.

    A stunned silence fell over the valley, shattered by Kay''s enraged scream.

    "DAMN IT!" He slammed his sword into the ground, plunging the blade into the mountain rock and releasing a shockwave that shook the valley floor.

    Vanis gritted her teeth and shielded her eyes with her forearm as she lay on the bloodied ground.

    "Fuck!" she spat, pushing herself up with trembling hands.

    A surge of ardor suddenly filled the air, and a fierce wind whipped her hair.

    Instinctively, she formed a blood appendage and shot it forward.

    Just in time.

    "Vanis! Let me go!" Artemis screamed as the tendril wrapped around her ankle, slamming her into the ground.

    "I will not. Don''t even think about it!" Vanis''s voice was cold, but it wavered as Artemis struggled fiercely.

    Artemis''s golden eyes were filled with shock and desperation as she pointed frantically at the swirling darkness of the Tear. "The Captain''s in there! We have to save him!"

    "Artemis, no one comes back from the Tear," Vanis'' voice cracked as she forced out the words. "Mordred is gone!"

    "But��"

    "Enough, Artemis." Kay''s words were quiet, but everyone heard them.

    He turned to Artemis, who lay on the ground, tears streaming from her golden eyes as she gritted her teeth in frustration and anguish.

    "Mordred did everything he could to ensure you and Apollo stayed alive in the Shield. Are you trying to throw away his efforts by killing yourself?" he asked gently.

    "But Commander! The Captain is still alive! Asphodel didn''t kill him! It captured him and entered the Tear!" Artemis argued desperately, her voice cracking.

    "Then he''s gone," Kay said, his face unreadable. "No one who enters the Tear ever comes back, Artemis. Not alive."

    "But Commander!" the young Fray choked. "He was supposed to be free next week! He was supposed to meet Iris!"

    "Artemis," the Commander''s voice softened as he gently placed a hand on her head. "It''s over. Mordred would whack you if you entered the Tear and killed yourself."

    "Arty," Apollo approached Artemis and wrapped his arms around her. "If you jump, I''ll follow, but I don''t want us to die yet."

    The usual quirky energy in his voice was gone, replaced by a somber tone masked by shock.

    Artemis sank into his embrace, tears streaming down her face.

    Vanis watched them, a cold pit of emptiness forming inside her. The sight of their embrace clawed at her heart.

    The Fray twins had lost everything early in their lives. Their brother Damien was all they had.

    When he died, Mordred and Iris took them in. They were closer to the twins than the others in Unit 21.

    When Iris left, they were sad because she no longer remembers them.

    But they were glad to see her free from her horrific past, from the horrors of being a Deathwalker.

    They were glad to see her becoming more than just an instrument of death and destruction.

    It was like saying goodbye to an older sister going up in the world.

    They will be apart, of course, but they will be able to meet her in the future.

    But this�� this was different.

    Vanis looked over at the rest of the Lunatics.

    Ava stood frozen, her gray eyes locked on the Tear, desperately searching for any sign of Mordred returning from the swirling vortex of darkness.

    "You better not die, you maniac," she muttered, her voice trembling. "I refuse to accept it!"

    "No way he''s gone," Krystal murmured, her face a mix of shock and disbelief. She turned to Carlo. "Right?"

    Carlo Devereux clenched his fist, avoiding her gaze.

    He didn''t say anything, but his silence was loud enough to speak of the tragedy that had befallen them.

    Snow began to fall, twirling and dancing in the air as the cold wind played with them, unaware of the cruel fate that had taken over Mordred.

    "I''ve lost all contact with Mordred''s bracelet. All of his physical signs are gone." Minerva''s timid voice broke through the silence, nailing in the undeniable truth.

    Mordred Pendragon was gone.

    "Now what?" Vanis asked as Kay walked past her, not bothering to retrieve his sword stuck in the ground.

    His fist clenched, and the surrounding air trembled with the aura he released in frustration.

    "We keep lookouts if he''s still alive and comes out," he said in a hollow voice.

    Vanis gave a rueful smile. "There''s no chance of that. Assuming he escapes or kills Asphodel, we have no idea what''s in the Abyss. His chances of survival are pitifully low."

    "But there is still a chance," Kay pressed.

    "That''s false hope, Commander," Vanis said in a defeated tone. "Even Alexander Zierhart, one of the most powerful Paladins in history, entered the Tear and never returned."

    "There''s no way Mordred could survive in his current state."

    Kay quietly listened to her words, his face still unreadable. "We''ll keep lookouts," he repeated.

    "If he returns, we''ll know. Until then, he''s dead," he declared.

    "I must inform the Royal Family of this."

    He covered his face with his scarred and calloused hands and sighed deeply.

    "What am I going to say to Guinevere?" he muttered, his voice breaking.

    He looked up at the sky, snowflakes gently falling on his face.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    "Morgause. I''m sorry."

    *******

    [Location: The Royal Palace, Camelot]

    "Merlin. Stop gouging your eyes out. You''re getting blood all over the couch."

    Arthur said with a resigned sigh, directing his words to the seemingly empty couch that was suddenly covered in blood.

    The air above the now bloodstained fabric shimmered, and two orbs plopped onto the ground with a sickening squelch.

    They were eyeballs with kaleidoscopic irises that shifted colors even as they rolled on the floor, leaving smears of blood before turning to ashes.

    The air shimmered more, revealing Merlin''s form, blood streaking her face like tears, though her eyes were now back in their sockets.

    "Incarni! That felt good for a few seconds!" Merlin exclaimed with a sigh of relief before she gave Arthur a crooked smile. "Sorry about that."

    The High King narrowed his eyes. "The Royal Palace is a no teleport zone."

    "I sneaked in through the window before you arrived," Merlin replied nonchalantly. "You have a habit of keeping them open."

    "But you knew I was here and didn''t mind my presence. So I quietly lounged on your couch," she added.

    "That was until you decided to scoop out your eyes and ruin my couch," Arthur said, his tone carrying a hint of irritation.

    He gave her a cold gaze. "Why are you here?"

    Merlin''s smile faded. "I''ve heard the news. My condolences. Mordred was a fierce kid."

    Arthur continued reviewing the documents carefully stacked on his desk.

    "You have quickly accepted his demise," he remarked in a cold voice as he cross-referenced with his holographic screen.

    Merlin tilted her head, her eyes narrowing as she watched him. "No one has returned after entering the Tear, dead or alive. It is a death sentence."

    Arthur shifted his gaze to the warlock relaxing on his couch.

    Although immortal, Merlin is capable of changing her appearance, but she prefers to remain in her original form.

    He had noticed that in the last four years, Merlin had decided to undergo some changes.

    Currently, her white and pink hair is longer with blue highlights near her neck. She is taller than before and her slender figure is more mature.

    The only features of hers that remained unchanged were her eyes. The colors of her eyes shifted like a kaleidoscope as they shimmered like stars.

    "I presume you are pleased?" he asked. "After all, you won the bet."

    Merlin''s eyebrows shot up. "Actually, I lost the bet. The wager was for him to survive three years as a Deathwalker."

    "And he did survive for three years," she frowned, more to herself than to Arthur. "I didn''t expect him to stay for a girl."

    Merlin narrowed her eyes. "And not just any girl. He fell for Iris Karsus, the unfortunate child of that douchebag Adrian."

    "That guy is seriously crazy, and his child was crazier," she added.

    Arthur frowned. "Careful Merlin. Guinevere adores that child."

    Merlin''s smile was thin. "Speaking of Guinevere, I could feel her murderous aura approaching us."

    As soon as she said that, a powerful aura shook the air and the surroundings of Arthur''s office. The atmosphere grew dense with ardor, and the temperature seemed to drop.

    "I guess that is my cue to hide," she said before shimmering out of sight.

    The doors to the office flew open and Guinevere stormed in, her eyes blazing with cold rage.

    "Are you happy?" Guinevere''s voice was venomous, frigid as ice, each word laced with a fury that made the air crackle with energy.

    The objects in the room began to float as the ardor density shifted, and cracks began to form on the stone walls and glass windows.

    Tears streaked her beautiful face and her sapphire blue eyes glowed with an expression that Arthur had never wished to see.

    Hatred.

    Arthur met her gaze, his expression impassive. "Vere, he''s fallen into the Tear. That doesn''t mean he is dead."

    "Then why isn''t there an operation to rescue him? He''s your son!" Guinevere growled, her voice breaking slightly.

    Arthur''s silence was more damning than any words he could have spoken.

    "I just don''t get it," Guinevere shook her head lightly, her voice trembling. "What has that child ever done to you for him to suffer such a wretched fate?"

    "Was it because of Merlin''s stupid prophecy? Or because of Morg''s death? Or was it because he was weak?"

    Her voice rose, laden with ardor, shaking the room. "What was it? TELL ME!"

    Arthur held her furious gaze with his cold eyes. "You will not understand, Vere."

    The shaking stopped, and the ardor density returned. Guinevere looked at Arthur with eyes full of disappointment and grief, her shoulders slumping from their weight.

    "I thought I finally understood you, Arthur," she whispered, her voice filled with pain. "But it turns out it was just my delusion."

    She turned away from him. "You don''t have to appear for the funeral. I''ll send him off myself."

    Arthur closed his eyes. "Very well. If that is what you wish."

    Guinevere''s eyes fell on the couch, her gaze hardening. "This is your fault, Merlin. You''d better remember that for the rest of your cursed life."

    "Do not even show your face at the funeral," she snarled.

    "The next time I see you, I will gouge your accursed eyes out and replace them with burning stakes."

    With that chilling warning, she turned to leave, but not before casting one last, scornful look at Arthur.

    "You not only failed as a father to Mordred, but you failed Morgause as well."

    She walked away, slamming the doors shut behind her, the sound echoing through the now-silent room.

    A suffocating silence filled the atmosphere in the room before Arthur broke it.

    "You should not appear before Guinevere in the future, Merlin," he said as the air above the couch shimmered and Merlin reappeared.

    "Yeah. I should not," she grimaced. "Guinevere was not bluffing. She would really do that."

    She shrugged, giving him a hollow smile. "But it''s fine. I''m used to being hated by everyone."

    "That is depressing," Arthur remarked with a frown.

    Merlin waved off the comment, immediately changing the subject. "What about the children?"

    Arthur shifted his focus to the storm clouds gathering outside the window, his expression unreadable.

    "Morgan is in shock. She refuses to believe that he is gone," he replied, recalling her devastated look when he told her the devastating news.

    Merlin wriggled on the couch until she was lying upside down on it. "She must be feeling an awful lot of guilt and regret."

    She let out a strained chuckle. "It''s funny. She didn''t acknowledge his presence just so that she would not have to undergo that kind of grief and anguish."

    "She is human, Merlin. He was still her brother. Perhaps the anguish and guilt she is feeling is her punishment," Arthur replied.

    Merlin''s eyes shimmered as she stared at him. "And what about you? You pretty much ignored his very existence. What about your punishment?"

    Arthur''s expression hardened as he turned to her. "I''m already a damned man, Merlin. You, of all people, know that."

    "You''re right." Merlin''s eyes dimmed as she spoke. "After all, both of us are irredeemable."

    "What about Elaine?" she continued.

    Arthur''s eyes drifted to his smartphone on the desk. "She gave me a phone call. Asked if it was true. When I confirmed it, she just said ''oh'' and hung up."

    Merlin raised her eyebrows. "Well. That is an improvement. She rarely comes out of her room nowadays."

    Arthur sighed. "Just make sure she doesn''t get herself killed when she joins Avalon next year."

    "Gawain must be having it the hardest, though," Merlin pointed out, her voice quieter.

    The High King''s gaze softened. "He''s currently destroying the training court of the palace. I believe Guinevere is going there as we speak."

    "And Trinity is inconsolable," he added, a rare heaviness in his voice.

    "Ah, little Trinity. She was looking forward to seeing Mordred," Merlin remarked, shaking her head. "What a tragedy."

    She then turned to him. "But you''re the only one who has not accepted his death."

    Arthur''s cold eyes met hers, and Merlin felt a chill run down her spine as he spoke.

    "That''s because he is not dead."

    Merlin frowned, a sense of unease creeping into her. "Why do you sound so sure?"

    Arthur Pendragon''s eyes glowed as he spoke the next words.

    "That''s because I know."

    *******

    Location: Winchester Manor, Blackrose Island

    "Miss Iris?"

    The maid knocked gently on the office door, the sound resonating more sharply than intended as her prosthetic arm made contact with the wood.

    "Yeah? Get in," a refined voice spoke from behind the closed door.

    The maid opened the door and found Iris Lefay relaxing on the couch, reading a report in her right hand while flicking a combat knife with her other.

    She was dressed casually in a sleeveless t-shirt and sweatpants, the many scars on her arms almost glowing under the light of the setting sun, and her long black hair was tied in a ponytail, the blue ends of her hair glowing faintly.

    Her bright blue eyes switched from the report to the maid, who felt a chill down her spine under her gaze.

    Iris smiled. "How many times I should tell you not to call me that, Aunt Adeline? I am your niece. You don''t have to be so formal."

    Adeline smiled softly. "You are the master of this place, and I am your employee before I am your aunt."

    Iris sighed. "Looks like there is no changing your mind."

    She looked at Adeline more closely, noticing an unusual change in her expression. "So, what is it?"

    Adeline''s smile faded. "There is news from the Royal Palace."

    "What is it?" Iris asked, a bad feeling crawling into her.

    Adeline took a breath before answering.

    "High Prince Mordred Pendragon is dead."

    "What?" Iris froze, staring at the maid, her blue eyes wide with shock. "He is... dead?"

    Her aunt nodded solemnly. "He fell into the Tear during battle."

    "Ah," the shock in her eyes was replaced with a deep sadness.

    Iris had learned about the Tear during the time she tried to figure out her lost memories.

    So far, she had only recovered her combat prowess, which terrified even her, but her memories still remained out of reach, as if it was locked away somewhere deep in her mind.

    But certain things resonated within Iris, especially when she heard the name Mordred Pendragon.

    Her heart would skip a beat, and she would feel a sense of longing, a pull she couldn''t explain.

    This happens every time she learns about him or when the High Queen Guinevere talks about him.

    The High Queen...

    She looked up at Adeline. "How is Her Majesty faring?"

    The maid''s eyes were filled with sadness as she spoke. "Her Majesty is quite distraught."

    "I see��" Iris looked down.

    The High Queen loved Mordred as much as she loved her own children, perhaps even more.

    Iris couldn''t begin to understand the pain Guinevere must be going through now.

    Yet, what was this pain she was feeling inside of her? This gaping void of sorrow forming in her chest?

    It was as if her very soul was crying out in grief for the death of Mordred Pendragon.

    She placed a hand over her heart; the ache intensifying.

    What is happening?

    "Adeline," she said, looking up at her aunt again. "Inform the High Queen that I wish to attend the funeral."

    Adeline looked surprised, but she nodded. "Very well. I will inform her immediately."

    Suddenly, she gasped and placed a hand over her mouth. Iris noticed this and frowned.

    "What is it?" she asked before she felt something wet on her face.

    "Iris�� your face!" Adeline said in a trembling voice.

    Iris placed a hand on her face and gave her aunt a bewildered look.

    "Adeline. Why am I crying?"

 100 I Get The Worst Vacation Ever

    Sometimes I wonder if I''ve somehow subscribed to a lifetime of streaming nightmares.

    If so, I''d like to cancel my subscription and demand a full refund. I''m just so tired of these relentless horrors.

    Like always, I was beneath a crimson sky dotted with black stars. And I''m not talking about a sunset crimson or anything remotely beautiful.

    No, this was a vast nightmarish canvas, the color of fresh blood, with black stars flickering in and out of existence like dying embers.

    The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood, and the chill in the atmosphere sent shivers down my spine.

    Lowering my gaze from the sky, I looked down, baffled by what I saw.

    "This is odd," I muttered, standing knee-deep in a vast sea of blood that stretched endlessly in all directions.

    An eerie crimson mist hung low over the surface, not thick enough to block my vision completely, but enough to make me strain to see beyond it.

    This was unlike the nightmares that usually haunt me, where I stand on countless corpses and severed body parts, some of the people I know and love, all while a looming presence hunts me through a nightmarish landscape of death.

    But this was different. The sea of blood was unnervingly still, and no presence was chasing me.

    I narrowed my eyes, scrutinizing the crimson surface, half-expecting to see a familiar face float into view.

    Nothing.

    "Weird. This doesn''t feel like a nightmare," I muttered.

    "Are you disappointed?"

    I spun around, blood splashing as I disturbed the pristine stillness of the sea.

    The voice was feminine, regal, and seemed to emanate from everywhere at once.

    It was nothing like the maniacal, playful voice of the Haema Incarnus I''d heard before.

    "You look very cute, spinning around like that," soft laughter echoed all around me.

    Certain memories surfaced, memories of my past life. Memories of my mother.

    The voice''s laughter reminded me of hers, whenever she played with me as a child in the nearby woods and fields of Orkney.

    A dry chuckle escaped my lips. "So, the Goddess of Madness can change her voice now? Trying to make me nostalgic?"

    The voice chirped back, "Oh, I''m not an Incarnus, my child."

    I frowned. "Wait. You''re not the Incarnus?"

    "No. I sensed an abnormal surge of Madness emanating from a single existence and decided to check it out," the voice explained, amused.

    "The Madness weakened your mental defenses, so I thought I''d use a dream to visit you."

    "I''m quite impressed by your resilience to the Madness," the voice continued with a note of admiration in her tone.

    "It seems that child has taken a liking to you. Perhaps that''s why she''s kept the worst of her Madness from overwhelming your mind."

    I blinked, processing her words. "Did you just call the Haema Incarnus a child?"

    Her soft laughter echoed again. "Yes, I did. To me, she is a child."

    "I still remember when that little halfling tried to escape from the Queen''s hunters," she added with a chuckle.

    I stared blankly. "I have no idea what you''re talking about."

    "That''s for later in this story," the voice mused before changing the subject. "But you, you are an intriguing existence. An interesting soul reincarnated into an even more interesting body."

    A strange numbness spread through me. "You know I''m a reincarnation?"

    "Oh yes, I do. You''re from Eravon''s universe, after all. He told me about you, Sir Mordred," the voice affirmed. "But your soul�� it''s fascinating. Possibly the most interesting I''ve ever encountered, and I''ve seen many."

    "I must say, Eravon has truly outdone himself. He reincarnated you into the body of a parallel version of yourself, who also happens to be the latest in my bloodline."Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    "Your bloodline?" I frowned, realization dawning on me. "Hold up! So you''re��"

    Before I could finish, a sharp tearing sound drew my attention skyward. My eyes widened at the spectacle unfolding above me.

    Massive cracks spread across the crimson sky, threatening to shatter it into millions of pieces.

    Waves began to form on the sea of blood, splashing around my legs and making me lose balance.

    "Ah, it seems our time here is ending," the voice said, sounding disappointed.

    The crimson mist began to dissipate, revealing distant mountains.

    A faint rumbling filled the air, growing louder as the mountains seemed to grow larger.

    "What''s happening?" I asked, panic rising as I watched the world around me begin to break apart.

    "Am I waking up?" I realized.

    "Indeed," the voice confirmed. "You won''t like what you see when you wake up. Your journey ahead will be the most harrowing and toughest one you will ever face. I just hope you won''t fall into despair, my child."

    The rumbling intensified, and I realized with horror that the mountains in the distance weren''t mountains at all.

    They were a massive wave of blood, sweeping across the crimson sea, growing larger as it approached.

    "That''s going to hurt," I muttered, trying to flee, only to find my feet stuck to the bottom of the sea.

    "What the-?" I struggled, but my legs remained firmly anchored.

    "This is a fitting end to our dream, an ending with a great red splash!" the voice giggled.

    A massive shadow fell over me, and the rumbling filled my ears. I looked back, just in time to see a colossal wave of blood towering over me.

    "Well�� shit," I managed to say before the wave crashed down.

    *******

    I opened my eyes and screamed, pure agony tearing through me.

    Every cell in my body felt like it was being scorched from within, as if doused in acid that gnawed at my flesh, searing through muscle and bone.

    My bones seemed to liquefy, while every muscle shredded itself under an impossible strain.

    My head pounded fiercely, as though a red-hot spike was drilling into my brain, burrowing deeper with each pulse.

    So this is the after-effect of accepting the Madness and removing my limiter.

    I have to say I''m not a huge fan.

    Except the only thing coming out of my mouth were my screams of utter agony.

    Tears blurred my vision, and my body trembled uncontrollably as it desperately tried to adapt to the pain.

    The damage was extensive. I could feel it.

    My muscles hadn''t just torn; they had shredded themselves to pieces, unable to withstand the strain of using Kay''s and Vanis''s skills together.

    Gritting my teeth, I activated Blood Reconstruction.

    My back arched as I screamed, my voice ragged and hoarse, the searing pain only intensifying as the code repaired my ravaged body.

    Blood reconstruction took only a minute, but each second of maddening agony felt like an eternity.

    When it finally released me, I was left trembling, hollowed out by the sheer intensity.

    "That was hell," I muttered, sitting up and wiping the tears from my eyes. Now that my vision had cleared, I looked around.

    "Huh?" I rubbed my eyes and looked again. "Am I not awake yet?"

    A soft whimper escaped my lips as I gazed up at the crimson sky, a familiar, nightmarish sight.

    The heavens were dominated by that eerie crimson, dotted with black stars that seemed to devour all light.

    Despite the absence of a sun or moon, the nightmare sky was still visible, casting an otherworldly glow over the landscape.

    The sound of water lapping against land filled my ears, drawing my attention to the strange beach I found myself on.

    The sand beneath me was stark white, glaringly bright against the oppressive darkness of the massive body of water that stretched out behind me.

    But the water was different.

    It was an abyssal black, an inky liquid that swallowed light, merging with the crimson sky at the horizon.

    It lapped softly against the edge of the beach that stretched endlessly on either side, the rhythmic sound being eerily soothing.

    The sand was coarse and fine, biting into my skin as I shifted to a more comfortable position.

    I grimaced, the lingering pain of Blood Reconstruction and the removal of my limiter flaring up with every movement.

    Gingerly, I placed a hand on the stump where my right arm used to be. The wound had closed, replaced by a huge scar.

    Well. This sucks. I can''t regenerate my arm using my strand.

    Haema can only reattach and close up wounds while protecting my body from infections and diseases. It cannot regenerate a lost limb.

    Looks like I will have to use a prosthetic if I manage to get out of here.

    But where is ''here''?

    The dead silence was oppressive as I stood up and looked around.

    The endless expanse of white stretched out before me and the vast inky sea or ocean went on forever behind me.

    Nothing stood out of the desolate expanse that could help me make sense of my bearings.

    It''s either the creepy sky or ocean of liquid darkness or the vast empty plain of white that harbored not even a single molecule of life.

    A chill spread through me, and I shivered, realizing my uniform was in tatters.

    Cold, battered, and utterly lost in this alien wasteland.

    Great. Just great.

    That rooty son of a bitch really did it this time.

    Peeling off my tattered and blood-stained clothes, I muttered. "So this is the Abyss."

    "This has to be the worst vacation ever and I bloody hate it."

 101 Im Mordred And This Is Exploring The Abyss!

    Forget thanking the Incarni. I''ll praise Artemis.

    That girl always pestered everyone in the unit to carry extra stuff and emergency supplies in our bracelets at all times.

    Well, Iris and I always carried emergency provisions with us anyway. We just wanted to see Artemis''s cute expression whenever she pestered us.

    But the young Fray was more meticulous than us, so much so that she made us carry extra clothes, blankets, recovery potions, and even a portable workshop kit to mend our weapons and so much more.

    "Thanks, Artemis," I muttered, shivering as I stood on the alien beach in my underwear.

    The cold bit into my skin and the absence of warmth in the Abyss felt like it was seeping into my bones.

    There was no sun here to provide comfort, just an oppressive chill that matched the desolation around me.

    My inventory was a lifeline. Along with a state-of-the-art survival kit, emergency provisions, recovery potions, and workshop kit, I had my entire arsenal of weapons, blankets, and an extra pair of my uniform.

    Nice.

    Unfortunately, no tent or sleeping bag��something Artemis had been adamant about everyone having in their bracelets.

    Oops.

    Who would''ve thought I''d end up stuck in a weird world beyond the Tear?

    As I put on my uniform, my thoughts wandered to my Unit.

    Now that I''m gone, Artemis will become the new Captain of Unit 21.

    I smiled. That girl was born to be a team leader. She managed to keep both Iris and me in check, so I''m sure she''ll be fine.

    Although she''ll have a hard time soon.

    You see, dear readers, just before I went into battle, I received a message from Jack Raven.

    Yeah. The Jack Raven. Reaper and previous captain of Unit 21.

    After two years of silence, he finally contacted me.

    Honestly, I believed he and the team of nine Lunatics comprising the expedition team had perished.

    But no. Apparently, they found what they were looking for in the far east of Les Anciennes, and he was returning to the Shield with five expedition members.

    Which is why it''s going to be a problem for Artemis.

    The thing is, the Deathwalkers who went with Jack Raven are the reason Unit 21 was called the Lunatics.

    They are the most talented Deathwalkers in the Shield and the most mentally cracked ones.

    And five of them are returning to the Shield from the expedition.

    I sighed. Good luck, Artemis. It would be a miracle if those guys didn''t kill their new captain.

    But I don''t have to worry too much. Jack will make sure that won''t happen.

    Hopefully.

    My thoughts drifted beyond the Shield, towards Camelot.

    Falling into the Tear is the same as dying. The news will spread throughout the Kingdom.

    The second High Prince is dead.

    I doubt there will be much mourning for me.

    Unlike Morgan, Gawain, Elaine, and Trinity, who are practically celebrities, the people don''t know me. I was never seen in public, except for that one gathering where I beat up those heirs.

    Many will be surprised, but they''ll think about my death for a minute before resuming their daily lives.

    The Axial Dukes and other nobles will send their condolences, and some might be disappointed at the loss of a potential political pawn they could use.

    As for the Royal Family...

    I don''t know how the High King, Morgan, and Elaine would react.

    Honestly, I don''t care.

    But what about the ones who love me?

    Trinity would be really sad to hear the news. She was looking forward to meeting me after all.

    Guinevere and Gawain would be devastated. They might even blame themselves for not convincing me to return early.

    But my heart ached when I thought about her.

    Iris.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    Now that she no longer has the memories of our bond, how would she react?

    Would she grieve for the High Prince she believed was a friend? Or would she spare a thought about me, now that she''s the beloved knight of Blackrose Island?

    The more I thought about her, the wrenching pain in my heart worsened, like a twisting knife.

    I shook my head.

    No point in dwelling on those things now. I should focus on finding a way out of this weird limbo.

    My mind raced with different possibilities. The most likely among them was the most obvious one.

    The Tear.

    Asphodel brought me into the Abyss by entering the Tear, and the daemons invaded our world by marching through the Tear.

    So the only possible exit I could think of was the Tear.

    But where is it?

    I frowned, scanning my surroundings again��the unearthly white sand of the beach, the black water of the alien sea lapping against the shore.

    A fort...

    Could something like that even exist in a place so devoid of life?

    Time to find out.

    Packing all my stuff into my bracelet, I examined it.

    The connection to Minerva was severed the moment I passed through the Tear.

    I accessed the clock to make sense of the time, only to find it was out of whack, showing random numbers that constantly changed.

    So, the flow of time is different here. The clock in my bracelet is struggling to adjust.

    Fortunately, my stopwatch works normally. Time flows differently in this place, but at least I can keep track of the concept of time I''m familiar with. So, I started the counter on my stopwatch.

    As for the other functions of the bracelet. It''s safe to say I can use some of them.

    Despite the disconnection from Minerva, the bracelet has its own chip and is powered by ardor, which is quite abundant in the Abyss.

    I don''t know if I should be glad or worried about that.

    So, I turned on the distance tracker to measure how much I''d travel and looked at my sword lying on the sand.

    Picking it up with my left hand, I executed a few practice swings and stumbled a bit due to the imbalance caused by the loss of an arm.

    I gritted my teeth.

    In my past life, I was ambidextrous, which helped me master all sorts of weapons with ease.

    Unfortunately, I wasn''t that blessed in this world and ended up being right-handed.

    But I didn''t let that stop me. As a Deathwalker, you have to continue fighting even when you lose an arm.

    So, I practiced using weapons extensively with my non-dominant hand as well.

    But fighting with just one arm has its disadvantages. My balance would be off, but I''d quickly get used to it.

    I could use Haema to create an arm of blood for myself. There''s an abundance of ardor in this place, so I wouldn''t have to worry about it constantly using up ardor.

    Unfortunately, maintaining a blood arm is mentally draining, and I must be alert at all times in this landscape.

    I''d probably use a blood arm when things get hairy, but most of the time, I plan to just use my left arm.

    Gripping my sword, I went through all my forms and slashed repeatedly until I got used to using a sword with one arm.

    Putting the white blade back into my bracelet, I got ready to move.

    My compass doesn''t work properly, leaving me with two options: follow the shore or travel inland, keeping the sea at my back.

    I guess I''ll go with the first option.

    And so I began my journey, walking along the beach with the black water softly lapping at the land to my right and the vast white landscape stretching out to my left.

    Thinking about the long journey before me, I''m starting to wish I had a mount-type mechanima as well.

    My thoughts went to Basil, my serpent mechanima. She had gone back into the Shield, carrying Captain Sparks to Althea.

    She''d be lonely now that I''m gone, but I''m sure Artemis and the rest would take care of her.

    As I walked along the beach, the black water softly lapping at the shore, I couldn''t help but grumble about my predicament.

    "This is not the beach holiday I wanted."

    *******

    "Weird."

    I remarked, staring at the holographic screen projected by my bracelet.

    "Pretty bloody weird."

    I squinted, double-checking the data displayed.

    It wasn''t a mistake. According to my stopwatch, I had been walking along the beach for 24 hours straight��without a single break.

    "What the heck?" I muttered, trying to wrap my head around it.

    That means I''d covered more than a hundred kilometers.

    Sure, I''m a superhuman with an absurd amount of stamina, but walking for 24 hours without even stopping for a second?

    That''s beyond strange.

    Not a single breath out of place, no thirst, no hunger. Not even a drop of sweat on my skin.

    And the weirdest part? I felt fine. No, more than fine��I felt energized, invigorated by the air, rich in ardor, that filled my lungs with every breath.

    Could the abundant ardor in the Abyss be sustaining me, somehow keeping fatigue, hunger, and thirst at bay?

    Very weird.

    But weirder still was the beach that stretched endlessly ahead of me. After walking for an entire day, there seemed to be no end in sight.

    Just how vast is this place?

    I paused, considering the possibilities. If the ardor here is sustaining me, does that mean I''ve got infinite stamina?

    The thought made my pulse quicken with excitement.

    I looked ahead at the endless shoreline, an idea forming in my mind.

    Activating Haema, I accelerated my blood, feeling the surge of energy rush through me.

    I leaned forward and launched into a sprint, leaving a shockwave in my wake.

    The cold wind whipped against my face as the landscape blurred around me. The exhilaration of speed coursed through me, my breath steady, my body moving with a fluidity that felt almost unreal.

    But the scenery didn''t change. The same white sand, the same black sea, stretching on and on.

    Until, finally, after what felt like hours, I noticed the ground gradually rising. Shapes began to form on the horizon to my left, breaking the monotony of the landscape.

    I smiled, slowing my pace. It was time to let go of the sea.

    Shifting directions, I sprinted toward the mysterious shapes rising out of the vast white landscape, leaving the black sea behind.

 102 Hunters And The Hunted

    "Holy Incarni," I muttered as I neared the vast expanse of trees towering beneath the crimson sky.

    The trees were black as coal as if scorched by some ancient fire, and even their leaves were just as dark.

    They stretched across the horizon, forming an impenetrable wall of shadow.

    Yet, oddly enough, despite their obsidian hue, the leaves turned white when they fell, mingling with the desolate landscape as if bleached by the air.

    I kneeled and picked up one of the fallen leaves, turning it over in my hand.

    It felt fragile, and brittle, as if it could disintegrate between my fingers. Hundreds more lay scattered across the forest floor, carpeting it like snow.

    How strange.

    Standing, I peered into the black forest. The trees created a suffocating darkness that swallowed anything beyond the first few meters.

    My eyes strained, but there was nothing��just a thick, oppressive shadow.

    I stepped back, considering my options.

    I could venture into the forest''s depths, navigating whatever lurked within, or skirt its edge, searching for a way around.

    Neither option sounded particularly appealing.

    With a sigh, I released an ardor pulse, hoping to detect anything within the forest that contained ardor like crystals, structures, arlants, ardimals, or even intelligent beings.

    Unfortunately, the ambient ardor was dense, pressing down like a weight on my senses.

    Faint sources flickered on the edges of my perception, but they were so weak I almost doubted I''d sensed them at all.

    The interference made it impossible to get a clear reading.

    I glanced between the black forest and the endless white land behind me. The trees might hold answers, but with the forest''s darkness and my current situation, I wasn''t keen to wander blindly into the abyss.

    Narrowing my eyes, I made up my mind.

    I''d follow the edge of the forest, dipping in occasionally, but always keeping the pale landscape in sight.

    With a plan in mind, I launched into a run.

    Running at full speed without fatigue��it never got old.

    Each footfall unleashed an ardor pulse, probing the forest for anything unusual.

    As I ran, I wasn''t just scanning for ardor signatures; I was also trying to sense something much more important.

    The Tear.

    During my time in the Shield, I''d been part of several studies on the Tear''s properties��because, let''s be honest, I''m a genius like that.

    Its energy signature spread over much of Les Anciennes, detectable even from the mainland.

    After four years of living near it, I''d grown sensitive to its distinct aura.

    But now? There was nothing.

    The dense ambient ardor smothered everything, masking even the faintest trace.

    It''s either that or the Tear was far away on another continent or whatever massive landmass that exists in the Abyss.

    If that''s the case then I am magnificently screwed.

    I scowled as a certain name crept into my thoughts.

    Asphodel.

    That rooty bastard had put me in the Abyss.

    Oh when I get my hands on it, I''m going to do some unspeakable things��maybe starting with sticking my sword in where the sun doesn''t shine.

    Suddenly, something flickered at the edge of my awareness and I felt a familiar tingle on my skin, halting me in my tracks.

    Daemons.

    My breath hitched. Immediately, I moved toward the nearest tree, eyeing a high branch overhead.

    Blood seeped from my skin, condensing into a crystal-tipped tendril that shot upward and coiled around the branch.

    As the black leaves around me turned white and fell to the ground, I grabbed the tendril and pulled myself into the canopy.

    Perched in my vantage point, I peered through the dark leaves, my lips curling into a tight smile.

    "Well, this is quite troublesome."

    Ahead, emerging from the forest, was a platoon of ten daemons.

    They stopped at the forest''s edge, scanning the area with an unsettling precision, as though they were searching for someone.

    Me, no doubt.

    These daemons were different from the usual lot I''d fought over the years. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    They were lean, standing six feet tall, their bodies cloaked in a flowing, shifting darkness.

    Jagged black armor peeked out beneath their shadowy forms, and long, trailing plumes of darkness flowed from their helms, covering their faceless heads.

    One of them shifted its cloak, revealing the hilt of a sword at its waist.

    I swallowed hard. After years of fighting daemons, I could gauge their rank without needing my omni contacts.

    These weren''t your run-of-the-mill creatures.

    These were A-ranked elites.

    They moved as one, heads swiveling in eerie unison from left to right.

    It was long theorized that daemons were controlled by a single mind, meaning there was a leader behind them.

    A being capable of controlling hundreds of daemons like these would have known about me the moment I arrived in the Abyss.

    And now, it seemed, they had sent a hunting party.

    I frowned. If they had emerged from the forest, that meant their base��and possibly the Tear��was somewhere within those blackened woods.

    At least now I knew which direction to go.

    The only problem was how to deal with the daemons.

    Fighting all ten in my current condition would be... challenging, to say the least. And I wasn''t exactly known for my stealth.

    I crouched low on the branch, hoping the thick canopy would hide me.

    The black leaves overhead did their best to blend with my surroundings, but my white Deathwalker uniform stuck out like a sore thumb.

    I grimaced. Sneaking around in the shadows was Iris''s specialty. I could do it, sure, but I preferred a good fight upfront, sword in hand.

    Just as I shifted my weight to turn around, something brushed my shoulder.

    My heart sank as I watched a single black leaf dislodge from the branch, drifting lazily toward the ground.

    The moment it hit the dirt, it turned white.

    I looked back at the daemons. My heart stopped.

    One of them had its head turned directly toward me.

    I let out a small sigh and smiled.

    So much for being sneaky.

    *******

    The other daemons of the platoon turned their attention to the one whose head was facing a certain tree in the forest.

    Their heads tilted in unison as if responding to some unseen signal.

    Nothing moved.

    A few black leaves fluttered from the branches.

    Suddenly, a crimson spike shot out of nowhere, impaling the daemon that had been focusing on the tree directly through the heart.

    The daemon collapsed backward, its body twitching for a brief moment before turning limp and dissolving into a cloud of black smoke.

    But it did not explode in the usual burst of darkness and no wraith appeared.

    The other daemons scattered around their fallen comrade, moving with controlled, sharp precision.

    "I''ve never seen a daemon die like that before," Mordred spoke, his voice echoing through the trees.

    Immediately, the remaining daemons unsheathed their black swords, moving in perfect sync as they approached the forest.

    "Do they fit wraith bombs on you guys when you go through the Tear or are you guys built differently?" Mordred''s crimson eyes glinted from the shadows as he took a slow step forward, his white sword gleaming in his left hand.

    "To be honest, I''d rather face you lot than burn people alive."

    With a blur of motion, he vanished, reappearing right in front of the lead daemon, his sword already slicing upward.

    But just as the edge of his blade reached the daemon''s neck, the others reacted with frightening speed.

    Their black swords closed in, surrounding him with precise, lethal intent.

    Mordred''s pulse quickened��no hesitation. His crimson eyes narrowed, and with a sharp breath, he activated Haema.

    Blood rushed to his back and burst outward, forming crimson appendages, like a flower blooming in the night.

    Their crystalline tips shot forward, aiming directly at the hearts of the daemons.

    But the daemons, perfectly in sync, leaped back as one. Their synchronized movements were almost eerie.

    Unfazed, Mordred pivoted, dragging his white blade cleanly through the neck of the lead daemon, severing its head in one fluid strike.

    Without breaking form, he drove his sword deep into its chest, cutting through the heart. The daemon disintegrated into black smoke.

    Without a moment''s pause, long lances of rapidly swirling blood formed above him.

    {Haema: Vortex Blood Lances}

    The lances, crimson and deadly, surged toward the remaining daemons, each one striking with brutal precision.

    Mordred charged forward. It doesn''t matter whether they are elite A rankers. If he could get their hearts, he''d end this.

    But the daemons quickly got over their surprise.

    The next one parried his strike with a swift, powerful block, and slashed at his leg.

    Mordred barely stepped back in time, his breath catching as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

    One of his blood appendages lashed out instinctively, blocking an attack from behind.

    He spun around, delivering an ardor-enhanced kick to the daemon that had snuck up on him, sending it crashing into the air.

    Just as quickly, he parried an upward strike from the daemon in front of him. The clash of their blades echoed through the forest.

    Movement flickered in the corner of his eye. The remaining daemons charged, black swords raised in a synchronized assault.

    Mordred jumped back, barely avoiding the storm of blades that descended on him with furious speed.

    Their strikes were relentless, each one precise, covering the weaknesses of the others.

    It was like fighting a single, many-armed opponent��every move they made was a seamless part of the whole.

    Mordred gritted his teeth, pain radiating from the fresh cuts all over his body.

    Some of the attacks had broken through his blood appendages, leaving deep wounds that stung with every breath.

    He couldn''t keep this up.

    He released a powerful pulse of ardor, the force rippling outward and disrupting the daemons'' formation just long enough for him to leap into the air.

    His blood appendages coiled and merged, forming massive wings that unfurled with a sharp, metallic crack.

    Each powerful flap of the wings released a fine red mist into the air, swirling around him like a crimson aura.

    Hovering above the daemons, Mordred raised his hand, gathering ardor and blood.

    Blood swirled around him, forming a massive dome of crimson energy that pulsed with dark light.

    A savage grin spread across his face.

    "Let''s wrap this up."

    The dome collapsed inward, shrinking until it became a glowing red orb in the palm of his hand.

    The daemons below looked up, their blades raised, but there was no time left.

    With a flick of his wrist, Mordred unleashed it.

    {Haema: Crimson Nova}

 103 I Get Chased By Ugly Dogs

    It turns out that Elite A-ranked daemons can survive a Crimson Nova to the face.

    Technically, they don''t have a face, but you get what I mean. Right?

    A painful grunt escaped my lips as I grabbed the trunk of the nearest black tree and pressed a trembling hand over the gaping wound in my stomach.

    The daemons barely survived the explosion of my Crimson Nova. Barely. And while I finished them off, the cost was heavy.

    Heavy for them. Heavy for me.

    Each breath sent fresh waves of soul-wrenching pain through my body, but I forced myself to focus on the open wound.

    The power of Haema took hold, blood swirling as it slowly began knitting torn flesh and muscle together.

    Agonizingly slow.

    The hole eventually closed, leaving a scar that blended with the map of old scars carved across my body.

    Another addition to the collection.

    Gritting my teeth, I blinked back tears.

    Why?

    Why do I have to endure this?

    Is this life some cruel penance for the sins I committed in my past life?

    If that is the case, this is too much.

    I clenched my fists.

    I am just sick of this!

    Taking a deep breath, I calmed myself. No point in wallowing. Not now.

    After what felt like hours, I rose from my resting place under the black tree, grunting as the pain flared.

    The attack on the final daemon had sent me deeper into the forest, far from the edge.

    And now, of course, I was lost.

    Great. Just bloody great.

    With a sharp breath, I released an ardor pulse, expanding my senses outward.

    Immediately, a frown tugged at my lips.

    The ambient ardor had thinned out in this part of the woods��too thin, in fact. But that only made it easier to pick up the other signatures around me.

    A lot of them.

    Low growls rumbled from the shadows, and my heart rate spiked.

    Something��or some things��were lurking in the darkness, watching.

    Waiting.

    Long, shifting shapes flickered at the edges of my vision, darting between trees.

    I gulped, cold sweat trickling down my back, chilling my spine.

    Okay. This is not good.

    I turned toward the direction I felt it��the Tear. The sickening energy was unmistakable, burrowing into my bones.

    I couldn''t tell how far it was��too many other signatures and the remaining ambient ardor interfered with my senses.

    But it was there, pulling at me, even as its twisted energy made my skin crawl.

    The low growling intensified, the shadows moving closer. Too close.

    Time to move.

    Anything was better than sticking around to meet whatever horrors were hiding in the black forest.

    I trudged forward, my boots sinking into the thick carpet of white leaves that blanketed the forest floor.

    The gravity of the Tear tugged at me like a hook attached to my chest, pulling me forward.

    Yet, every step sent a wave of revulsion through me, as if my very being was repelled by its unnatural pull.

    More shadows flickered in the periphery of my vision. The growling grew louder, persistent. Closer.

    I quickened my pace, eyes scanning the impenetrable darkness. Nothing but black trees and shifting shadows, yet the growls persisted, gnawing at my nerves.

    How close were they?

    Ahead, the shadows flickered again, darting in and out of sight.

    "I hope my mind isn''t playing tricks on me," I muttered as I continued on.

    ********

    My bloody mind is playing tricks on me.

    I''ve been trudging along the black forest for a week without stopping once and I already feel like I''m losing my marbles.

    Shadowy forms flicker in the corners of my vision, slipping away when I try to catch them.

    Each time they vanish, they leave behind an oppressive silence that makes my skin crawl.

    The constant growling? Still there. But now there are voices��hushed, insistent, whispering dark, twisted words that claw at the edges of my mind.

    It was as if black trees looming over me whispered them in my ears.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    I clutch my head, my breath hitching as the flashes of nightmarish images invade my mind.

    An endless sea of corpses, Iris''s bloodied and ravaged face which completely healed only for her empty blue eyes to have no recognition in them.

    "I''m sorry. But who are you?" Her voice echoes, cold and indifferent, as her face crumbles to pieces in front of me.

    "You''re an absolute fool," a sickening voice slithers through my thoughts, distorted and ever-changing.

    "You shouldn''t have let her go," says another soft and sweet voice like a child''s.

    "You should''ve kept her close," a deep, mechanical voice chimes in.

    "After all, she was the only one you truly loved," a woman''s seductive voice purred.

    I clenched my teeth. "Shut up!"

    These distorted voices spoke in my ears, filling my mind with their malevolent words.

    I''m seriously tempted to take one of my daggers and shove it into my ears.

    Just when it seemed I would actually do that, it suddenly became silent as a grave.

    I lifted my gaze and my soul almost jumped out of my body.

    Inches from my face, staring straight into my eyes was the face of a bizarre four-legged creature made of darkness.

    It resembled a massive hound that was grotesquely mutated to create a horrifying abomination with uneven black spikes, and misshapen black claws.

    Its ribs are exposed, dripping with thick, inky liquid. Three serpent-like tails writhe behind it.

    A familiar growl escaped the creature''s throat as it bared its black serrated teeth at me, its milky white eyes bore into me, cold and soulless.

    More growls echo from all around as I feel multiple presences surround me from all sides.

    It was as if they came out of nowhere.

    I glance around, sword-ready. First elite A-ranked daemons. Now weird mutated shadow hound thingies.

    Could this get any worse?

    The black hounds snarled and snapped their jaws as they circled me.

    I carefully followed their movement, keeping my sword before me, its green edge gleaming menacingly.

    But then, something changes.

    They stop.

    All at once, the snarling ceases. The creatures go utterly still, surrounding me in an eerie, oppressive silence.

    Their milky white eyes remain fixed on me, unblinking.

    I frowned, absolutely perplexed by this behavior.

    What the heck is happening?

    Before I can react, my left leg erupts in searing pain.

    I yelled out in pain and looked down to see one of the hounds latched onto my leg, its jagged teeth buried deep in my flesh.

    I hadn''t even sensed it. The others had masked its aura.

    "Trying to take a bite?" I snarled, swinging my sword and driving it straight into the creature''s milky white eye.

    Black ooze sprays across my face as the blade bursts through its jaw.

    However, it didn''t react at all to my attack. It only clamps down harder, its teeth grinding against bone.

    Does this thing feel no pain?

    With the pain burning in my leg, I quickly glanced at the other hounds. They just stood there, silently watching me.

    I growl in frustration and yank my sword upward, slicing clean through its skull, decapitating it.

    That''s when the others move.

    All at once, the remaining hounds lunge at me, teeth bared, claws outstretched.

    Crap.

    *******

    "Just leave me alone!"

    Howls and barks filled the air as more than a dozen Abyss Hounds chased me through the black forest, their unnatural white eyes glinting like distant stars in the darkness.

    The more I killed, the more they appeared, as if the forest itself were giving birth to these abominations.

    It was as though the trees were creating the hounds out of thin air

    Sensing a sudden presence to my right, I whipped my body backward just as the jaws of a hound snapped mere inches from my face.

    Twisting around, I saw multiple black serpentine tails rushing towards me, their spiked ends dripping with inky black ooze.

    Spinning my sword, I shredded the tails and summoned multiple vortex bloodlances around me.

    The hounds pounced on me from all sides and I launched the crimson projectiles just as their ugly snouts reached me.

    Black ooze splattered all over me and burned my skin.

    "Wonderful," I hissed through clenched teeth. "Their blood is corrosive. Just wonderful."

    Unfurling my blood appendages, I lashed out with a vicious assault, tearing through the hounds like paper.

    My senses screamed at me��more were closing in. A lot more.

    Twenty? Fifty? A hundred? I had no idea anymore.

    I didn''t feel exhausted. No matter how much I fought or ran, my body didn''t tire.

    The pain from the bites and burns still throbbed, but I could keep going��forever if I had to.

    Which doesn''t sound appealing at all.

    I glanced at my stopwatch.

    "Two days," I muttered. "These ugly mutts have been chasing me for two days straight."

    I activated Haema and accelerated my blood. I won''t be needing Transcendence or body enhancement for these guys.

    Feeling the boost of my quickened blood flow, I got ready to face the horrors of the Abyss.

    The first wave of hounds burst from the shadows, their howls tearing through the air, their soulless white eyes locked onto me.

    Droplets of blood floated around me and quickly morphed into crimson spikes with half of their deadly length formed from crystallized blood.

    The first wave lunged, and I launched the spikes with a flick of my wrist, impaling nearly all of them before they even reached me.

    I moved through the trees, dancing between trunks and slicing through stragglers while my blood appendages protected me from every angle.

    The rest of the waves of hounds melted out of the forest shadows as soon as I was done with the last hound.

    This huge avalanche of unholy creatures contained hounds of various sizes.

    Some were the size of regular dogs while others were the size of rhinos with spines that looked more like horns protruding out of their bodies.

    Morphing my appendages into massive crimson wings, I shot into the air, unleashing a barrage of blood lances and other codes in my arsenal while my white blade tore into their black flesh.

    Pain flared all over my body as their corrosive blood burned my skin along with their teeth and spiked tentacles sinking into my body.

    I fought like a madman for a long time until I made my gravest mistake.

    My foot slipped. A patch of black ooze on a tree trunk caught me off guard, and before I could recover, I crashed down.

    Damnit!

    Just before I could recover, the hounds pounced on me, their sharp teeth tearing through my uniform and plunging into my flesh.

    I screamed in agony as they clamped down, dragging me to the ground. The weight of their bodies pressed on me, suffocating me.

    Desperately, I tried to control my blood to create a Crimson Nova but the horrific pain shattered my focus.

    My vision blurred, filling with the hideous visages of the Abyss Hounds, their teeth gnashing, ready to tear me apart.

    Is this how it ends? Torn apart by these bloody ugly dogs?

    As my vision darkened, something in the trees caught my attention.

    A figure��a humanoid form, shrouded in shadowy darkness, perched high among the branches, its outline shifting and swaying like smoke in the wind.

    Before I could make sense of what I was seeing, darkness overtook me, and my consciousness slipped away.

 104 Alisax

    I miss Eravon.

    Every time I fainted in Blood Valley while battling the daemons, he would be there, in a place created from my mind and his power.

    The snacks he conjured in that world, although imaginary and never filled my stomach were among the most delicious things I''ve ever eaten.

    The conversations we had and the training I underwent under his tutelage were just wonderful, especially his lessons on ardor control and codes. They were the major reason I was still alive in the Shield.

    Damn. I surely miss him.

    Eravon''s world was much better than the horrifying nightmare I am having right now.

    I found myself in the middle of an endless horde of those monstrous hounds, my body being torn to shreds by their horrible claws and teeth.

    Every time they ripped me apart, my flesh regenerated, only to be savaged again.

    My skin, muscles, bones��each piece coming together in agonizing detail, just to be ripped apart once more.

    The cycle was endless and cruel. My blood hung heavy in the air.

    It was suffocating.

    As I lay there being a chew toy for these ugly mutts, something caught my eye in the distance.

    It was a humanoid form, composed of black roots, its bald, smooth head completely faceless��until that disgustingly familiar smile formed on the black canvas of its featureless face.

    Recognition hit me like a hammer through the haze of claws, teeth, and blood

    An old and intense rage flared inside of me as I glared at the rooty son of a bitch with eyes filled with absolute loathing.

    "ASPHODEL!" I roared, pushing myself off the swarming hounds, my flesh tearing apart as I dragged their snapping jaws away from me.

    Blood poured from my wounds, but I didn''t care��my entire being was locked onto the grinning figure of the Abnormal.

    "I hope you are enjoying the hospitality of my homeland, little prince," its deep, distorted voice taunted me.

    I surged forward, ignoring the tearing claws of the hounds that sank into my skin.

    My vision filled with that hideous grin��until one of the hounds clamped its jaws onto my leg and yanked me down

    My body crashed into the sea of hounds, their weight dragging me under as Asphodel''s twisted grin loomed, growing larger as I was swallowed by the nightmare.

    One of the hounds lunged at me and its teeth filled my vision��

    I snapped awake, drenched in sweat, gasping for breath. My vision was blurred, fogged over by panic.

    I blinked several times, shaking the last remnants of that nightmare from my mind.

    Slowly, my surroundings became clearer.

    I was leaning against a crumbling wall, blackened with age. A ruin, vast and grand once upon a time, now nothing more than broken stones and charred remnants.

    By the size of it, this place might have once been a mansion.

    Something soft brushed against my skin��a blanket, dark and tattered, but surprisingly clean, wrapped around my naked body.

    Wait�� I''m naked?

    I looked down, and sure enough, the only thing on me was my Deathwalker bracelet, still strapped around my wrist.

    Beneath the blanket? Nothing.

    I stood up, the blanket falling away, confusion creeping into my mind.

    Okay. This is weird.

    I was getting swarmed by those damned hounds, and now I''m naked in some blackened ruin, wrapped up in a cozy blanket.

    Who the hell brought me here?

    Examining my body, I realized I was not feeling any pain and there were no marks left by the hounds on my body.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    I barely took a step forward when a voice, low and distorted, drifted from the shadows.

    "I see you''re awake."

    Instantly, my sword was in my hand, the bright green edge almost glowing against the blade''s white metal. The blanket fell to the ground as I spun to face the voice.

    It was female but distorted and eerily similar to what I heard in my nightmare.

    "You," I snarled, my grip tightening around my sword as I glared at the figure emerging from the shadows.

    It was unlike any daemon I had seen, including Asphodel.

    The darkness trailing off it is less compared to other daemons, giving me a clearer view of its tall, feminine figure.

    Its body was clad in jagged black armor that seemed to be made from the very darkness that shaped her form, but it wasn''t the armor that caught my attention.

    A hood of billowing darkness that seemed to devour the light adorned its head, and beneath it, instead of a face, there was only an endless void.

    But within the gaps of its armor, a faint white glow pulsed, so faint it was almost non-existent.

    It was as if a being of light was encased in an armor of pure darkness.

    My whole body screamed for me to kill the daemon, to tear the creature apart before it could speak another word.

    And yet�� a small, insidious whisper in the back of my mind faltered my resolve.

    That light. Something about it didn''t feel like the other daemons.

    I hesitated.

    My instincts and experience as a Deathwalker screamed at me to plunge my blade into its heart, but I held them at bay.

    Something nagged at me��like a memory I couldn''t quite shake. I had seen a similar shadowy figure while being swarmed by Abyss hounds in the Black Forest.

    Could it have been this daemon?

    If the daemon had wanted me dead, it would''ve left me with the hounds. It had a chance, and yet here I was.

    So I didn''t attack. Not yet.

    "What kind of daemon are you?" I asked, my sword still aimed directly at its heart. My muscles tensed, ready to act.

    The creature''s jagged hands twitched, moving quickly. My blade was halfway to its throat before I realized it had raised them in submission.

    "My name is Alisax, and I wish you no harm, Mordred Pendragon," it spoke in that same distorted female voice.

    The sound of my name from a daemon''s mouth sent a cold shiver down my spine.

    "How do you know my name?" I demanded, tightening my grip around the sword hilt.

    Not even Asphodel had called me by name, preferring its condescending ''little prince.''

    The daemon didn''t appear to have eyes, but I could feel its gaze��heavy and unblinking from the darkness within its hood.

    "I looked into your mind."

    In a flash, I had the daemon pinned beneath me, the green edge of my blade pressing against its neck, my breath ragged with fury.

    My voice was low, barely restrained.

    "I don''t recall giving you permission to peek inside my head."

    However, the daemon was calm, its jagged limbs splayed on the ground in submission.

    "It was the only way I could convey my thoughts to you. The human language has evolved significantly over the millennia. To understand it, I needed to access your mind. Seeing your memories�� was an unavoidable consequence."

    Its voice, still distorted, now echoed within my head. Despite my anger, the daemon''s tone was��

    Regretful?

    "I simply did not want any misunderstandings, especially considering the animosity your kind harbors toward mine."

    "That''s an understatement," I replied coldly. "We''re not exactly best friends."

    "So I''ve heard," it murmured, raising its clawed hands again, open in surrender. "That''s why I beg you��please don''t raise your sword against me. I truly mean you no harm."

    I hesitated, my eyes narrowing as I stared into the darkness beyond the daemon''s hood.

    The tension hummed in the air before I finally stepped back and withdrew my sword, slipping it back into the bracelet.

    "Very well," I muttered, still keeping my guard up.

    The daemon sat up, bowing its head slightly in what seemed like gratitude. "Thank you, Your Highness."

    I frowned. "Just call me Mordred."

    "Very well�� Mordred."

    She rose, standing at about six feet tall, her form imposing yet oddly graceful.

    "Let me properly introduce myself. I am Alisax, the Ranger Commander under��"

    "Where are my clothes?" I cut her off, eyebrow raised.

    Alisax seemed momentarily taken aback. "Your vestments were heavily damaged. So I took them off and mended them."

    Reaching behind her, she revealed my Deathwalker uniform, fully mended and looking quite brand new.

    "I heard humans find it uncomfortable to be without their vestments," she remarked, handing me the clothes.

    "You''re correct," I said as I slipped them on. A sudden image of Iris flashed in my mind, and a sad smile tugged at my lips. "Although, I know a few who feel the opposite."

    Alisax tilted her head slightly, her gaze��if she had one��seeming to study me.

    "Is that so? Humans are odd creatures."

    "Don''t get too comfortable with me. I haven''t fully trusted you yet," I warned.

    "As you should not," she replied quietly. "My kind has spilled unimaginable amounts of human blood. We do not have to be friends."

    Something in her voice shifted, almost as if she wanted it to be different.

    But no, she was a daemon. I couldn''t forget the horrors her kind inflicted on us in Blood Valley.

    Fully clothed, I turned back to her, eyeing her curiously. "What were you saying before?"

    "Will you interrupt me again?" she asked, her tone sharp.

    I raised my only hand in mock surrender, chuckling. "Sorry about that. I was feeling a bit�� exposed."

    Alisax let out a sigh, her shoulders relaxing. "Very well. I am the Ranger Commander under Her Majesty, the Queen of the Lumini."

    My brow furrowed. "The Lumini? Is that what you daemons call yourselves?"

    "No," she replied. "It''s what we used to call ourselves. A long time ago."

    Something in her distorted voice carried an air of sadness.

    I narrowed my eyes. "Used to? And this queen��she''s the one controlling the daemons?"

    "No," Alisax said, her voice turning darker, more dangerous. "The one controlling the daemons is not the Luminus Queen."

    Her voice lowered, filled with unmistakable hatred. "It''s the Daemon Queen. A traitor who betrayed my master and took the throne."

    "Interesting," I muttered, noting the venom in her tone. "The Luminus Queen must''ve been quite someone."

    "She was," Alisax said reverently. "Revered by all, not just the Lumini, but humans and other races alike."

    I blinked in surprise. "Humans?"

    "Yes. Even humans," Alisax''s eyeless gaze seemed to pierce into me.

    "After all�� she is the Incarnus of Lux."

 105 Alisax Loses it

    "The Incarnus�� of Lux?"

    I stared at Alisax, wondering if I had heard her wrong.

    The daemon tilted her head slightly. "That is what everyone calls her, right?"

    I blinked and shook my head, trying to process this bombshell of information. "Wait. So the Queen of the Lumini is the Incarnus of Lux? The Goddess of Light?"

    "Um. Yes?" Alisax confirmed, her tone hinting at confusion as if my surprise baffled her.

    I took a step back, leaning against the broken wall behind me. "Whoa. That''s�� quite a revelation."

    Before I could ask any more, a low, familiar growl cut through the air, sending a chill down my spine.

    "It appears the hounds have found us," Alisax said, her voice suddenly dropping into a serious, controlled tone.

    I quickly sent out an ardor pulse, the energy spreading through the ruins, and my breath hitched in my throat. "There are�� hundreds of them."

    I unsheathed my sword, instinctively bracing for battle. But before I could act, Alisax''s icy hand clamped down on my wrist, her touch colder than death itself.

    "Your body is still not ready for battle," she said, her grip unyielding, lowering my weapon with ease. "You must rest."

    "But the hounds!" I protested, trying to pull free. Her strength was far greater than mine, and my efforts were futile.

    Her grip loosened, and I stumbled backward, barely catching myself. Before I could regain my balance, she had already turned toward the entrance.

    "Rest. I will handle them." Her voice was calm, but the sheer confidence in it resonated deeply.

    She glanced over her shoulder, and the darkness beneath her hood seemed to pull at the edges of my mind.

    Without my consent, my body obeyed her command. My legs buckled, and I sank back against the broken wall.

    As Alisax disappeared beyond the ruined arch, my eyes grew heavy, a wave of fatigue washing over me��the first I had felt since falling into the Abyss.

    The howls of the hounds filled the air, but no nightmarish horrors plagued me this time as I drifted off to sleep.

    When I woke up, Alisax sat across from me, leaning against the blackened walls. I groggily rubbed my eyes, feeling strangely refreshed.

    She appeared to be watching me, though I couldn''t be sure��her hood concealed all but the fathomless darkness underneath.

    "Did you sleep well?" her distorted voice asked.

    "The best sleep I''ve had in years," I remarked, standing up and stretching.

    My muscles felt relaxed, and my mind was clearer than it had been in a long time. "What did you do? And what about the hounds? It sounded like there were hundreds of them."

    "I used my power to help you fall asleep," Alisax explained simply. "As for the hounds�� Indeed, there were hundreds of them."

    Her clawed gauntlets flexed, clenching and unclenching as she added, "I killed them all with ease."

    I stared at her, stunned. "You�� killed them all?"

    Alisax nodded. "I am strong. I am what you humans call an S-ranked being."

    A chill ran down my spine. "You''re an S rank?"

    "Yes. You look quite surprised."

    "I didn''t feel the energy of an S-rank from you. You''re really good at concealing your aura," I remarked, still processing the thought.

    "I''m the commander of the rangers, Mordred. Concealing my presence is second nature to me," she replied smoothly, tilting her head slightly. "But I am not the first S-ranked daemon you''ve met. Am I?"

    Her words hit me like a freezing wind, and for a brief moment, a suffocating wave of bloodlust washed over me, rooting me in place.

    I almost forgot. She had seen my memories. Of course, she knew about that rooty son of a bitch.

    "Alisax," I said cautiously, eyeing her. "Do you�� know Asphodel?"

    The ground shook beneath us, and the crumbling ruins around us quaked as her aura exploded. The suffocating bloodlust poured out, gripping my heart in an icy vice.

    "Of course I do," she said, her voice low, filled with barely controlled rage.

    The trembling suddenly stopped, the pressure easing as she continued, her tone shifting to something melancholic, though hatred still simmered beneath her words.

    "We were best friends once�� Until he betrayed our queen for that Darkling."

    The venom in her words intrigued me. Sitting on a large stone slab, I couldn''t help but ask, "What happened?"

    Alisax turned her head slightly toward me. "It is a rather long story."

    I shrugged. "I''ve got plenty of time."

    She hesitated for a moment before letting out a small sigh. "Very well."

    Leaning against the broken wall, she began. "Where should I start? Ah yes, our queen."

    "Our queen was the first Incarnus to be born in this universe."The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    "You mean the first-generation Incarni?" I interrupted.

    Alisax''s voice turned dry. "You really like to interrupt, don''t you?"

    I winced. "Sorry. I just wanted to confirm."

    I could feel her gaze, or what passed for one, weighing on me for a moment before she continued.

    "You are correct. Our queen was among the first generation of Incarni. But that wasn''t all."

    Her voice took on a tone filled with reverence. "She was also the first Incarnus to be born in this universe."

    The first Incarnus?

    As if sensing my disbelief, Alisax clarified. "The other Incarni were born soon after her. But she�� she was the very first Incarnus."

    "Let there be light," I murmured.

    "An interesting phrase, but yes, those words ring true," Alisax remarked. "Not only was the queen the first Incarnus, but she was also the first Luminus, and the remaining first-generation Lumini arose from the blood she shed during a sparring match with one of her fellow Incarni."

    I stared at her. The imagery of that sounded almost�� mythological.

    "The Lumini were beings blessed with Lux. Our bodies were similar in structure to yours, but our essence was composed of light, and we were quite tall."

    Alisax crossed her arms and spoke smugly. "And we were far more beautiful than the most beautiful elf."

    A hint of warmth entered her voice as she added, "But the fairest of all was our queen, the Incarnus of Lux."

    "She had difficulty expressing her emotions, but she was truly selfless. She devoted herself to her subjects and did everything she could for them to live peacefully."

    "The Lumini loved her, and our loyalty was absolute. She ruled over us for millennia, always protecting us."

    I blinked in surprise. "Did you say millennia?"

    Alisax nodded. "Yes, I did. She was an Incarnus��the strongest of them all. Even as her brothers and sisters of the first generation fell by each other''s hands, she remained, steadfast and undefeated."

    "Not even the Incarni of Chronos, Locus, or Tenebris could challenge her."

    Alisax raised her clenched fist to the crimson sky. "She was a god among gods, unmatched in battle, slaughtering countless who dared challenge her��major and minor Incarni alike."

    "We, her soldiers, commanders, and chief commander, stood by her side, ready to give our lives for her."

    "With our aid, she protected our world from Incarni and other threats. Though, if I''m being honest," she chuckled softly, "she didn''t need our help. She was more than capable of protecting us without it."

    "I guess we just wanted to be useful to her. She didn''t mind that."

    Alisax shook her head, her voice quieter. "But even to us, her closest retainers, she was a mystery."

    "She was revered by all, especially by humans and elves. Even the mighty Malakhs bowed their heads with the utmost respect in her presence."

    "Malakhs?" I asked, bewildered.

    "Winged humanoids with tremendous ardor and authority. They''re on par with dragons and tend to keep to themselves, much like the Lumini once did," the daemon explained.

    I blinked, processing. "You mean angels?"

    Alisax tilted her head. "Angels? Interesting term."

    I stared at her, dumbfounded. Angels. They exist in this world, though called something else��Malakhs.

    I''d like to meet one, assuming I get out of here alive.

    Turning back to Alisax, I asked, "For even the Malakhs to show her respect, the Lux Incarnus must have been extraordinary."

    She nodded. "I''ve heard that even those in her faction, who never saw her, remained loyal just from hearing her voice."

    "It still is," I said. "The Order of Lux is the largest Incarnus faction in Asteris even now."

    "I''m glad to hear that."

    My gaze lowered. "Millennia have passed, and they''re still waiting for her to answer them."

    Alisax''s distorted voice grew mournful. "They''ll be waiting for a long time, I''m afraid."

    Feeling the weight of her grief, I hesitated before asking, "What happened?"

    Suddenly, the temperature dropped. Bloodlust, more intense than before, washed over me, freezing me in place.

    The ground trembled as her colossal aura slammed down, the mansion''s walls quaking. I struggled to remain standing, releasing my own aura just to avoid crumbling to the ground.

    The darkness around Alisax flared, rippling like deadly flames. When she spoke, her voice was filled with loathing.

    "What happened? The Darkling happened."

    Her aura exploded, shaking the ruins violently. Cracks spiderwebbed across the stone as the mansion threatened to collapse.

    I gritted my teeth, but it was a losing battle. This was worse than facing Isaac Zierhart��except this time, I was completely alone and Alisax was way stronger than the dead Paladin.

    "Alisax! Let''s stop here for now!" I pleaded. "You don''t have to tell me! Please, calm down!"

    But my words didn''t reach her��she was consumed by rage.

    "It all started with her!" Her voice echoed, distorted, from all directions.

    I felt my body beginning to buckle under the pressure. Desperation surged through me. I gathered every bit of ardor I could muster and roared, "ALISAX! SNAP OUT OF IT!"

    The shockwave of my aura hit her, and with a shudder, she snapped back to herself. The bloodlust vanished, and her crushing aura lifted.

    "I... I am sorry." Alisax''s voice was quiet, guilt-ridden. She bowed her head. "I lost control. I shouldn''t have..."

    "Yeah, you did," I grumbled, wiping the blood that had started to drip from my nose. The result of being nearly crushed by her aura.

    Silence passed over us as we sat there, not knowing what to say to each other.

    I got up and stretched, swinging my left arm to shake off the tension. The voices in my head had quieted. For the moment, at least.

    "I should keep going. I''ve rested long enough."

    "You''re going to the Tear, aren''t you?" Alisax asked. "To leave this place and return to your world?"

    I nodded. "Yeah. There''s someone I need to get back to."

    "Even if she doesn''t remember you?" she asked softly.

    I winced, her words striking deep. "Please stop doing that."

    She raised her hands in surrender. "Very well. In that case..."

    She placed a hand on her chest. "Allow me to guide you."

    "You know where the Tear is?" I asked, surprised.

    She nodded. "Yes. Consider it compensation for my outburst. I''ll guide you back home."

    Without waiting for my response, she turned and began walking away.

    I quickly followed. After a moment of silence, I couldn''t help but ask the question that had been nagging at me.

    "Alisax... the Lux Incarnus, your queen. What was her name?"

    Alisax looked back, the darkness under her hood exuding a profound sadness. Her voice, when it came, was barely above a whisper.

    "Her name... It has been so long since I spoke it..." her voice trailed off as if trying to remember it.

    "Ah," her voice carried hope and relief, perhaps she was glad she hadn''t forgotten it.

    "Phoebe... Phoebe of The Restoration."

 106 The Darkling

    "Impressive,"

    Alisax remarked as I threw the mutilated corpse of an Abyss Hound onto the growing pile of dead, grotesque creatures.

    The mangled bodies piled high, steaming with the lingering heat of their demise.

    It had only been a few days since we left the relative safety of the ruined mansion, and we were already getting chased by the ugly mutts.

    Alisax was about to engage the hounds herself, but I stopped her.

    After my energizing rest, I was itching to cut loose.

    There were more than a hundred of those ugly mongrels. But their numbers made no difference. I slaughtered them all.

    "Even without an arm, you are formidable," Alisax said, her voice vibrating with a faint echo from the darkness underneath her shifting hood.

    She watched as I approached the mound of corpses, blood still seeping from my left hand.

    I channeled the blood through my fingers, igniting it into a swirling mix of crimson and black flames.

    With a flick of my wrist, I sent the Bloodfire cascading over the dead hounds, the flames roaring to life as they consumed the bodies.

    The heat followed in a violent wave, washing over us, while the flames licked hungrily at everything my blood had touched.

    The light from the fire dimmed as it met the inky darkness under Alisax''s hood, but I could sense her invisible gaze fixed on the inferno.

    She remained still, seemingly entranced.

    "Fire born from blood," her distorted voice echoed, laced with awe. "You have a unique and interesting ability."

    I smiled faintly, watching the fire burn. "Bloodfire isn''t unique to me. I had a good teacher."

    The image of Vanis Hectus surfaced in my mind��her cold, heterochromatic eyes, and the unwavering seriousness that defined her expression.

    Wandering through the Abyss had given me too much time to think. Long enough to sort out my thoughts.

    One of them was about Vanis. She became more involved in my life after we made our peace in that graveyard.

    She didn''t just help me master blood crystallization and taught me to wield Bloodfire. She pushed me to my limits as a sparring partner.

    She was always relentless, never pulling her punches and her chastising. Her words were just as brutal as her attacks.

    She told me stories of her time as a Paladin and even how Iris had once saved her.

    If I''m being honest, Vanis was everything Morgan, the Crown Princess, had failed to become.

    An older sister.

    Vanis wasn''t the only one. Dorothy, Master Lorvar, the Doc, the Lunatics��they had all become family.

    Even Kay, though his uncle-ness could be a bit much at times.

    I smirked to myself, briefly thinking of the challenges Artemis might face with the returning core members of Unit 21.

    But Vanis would back her up. I was sure of it.

    My attention returned to Alisax, who was still turned toward the flames, her form rigid beneath her cloak of shadows.

    "You look like you''ve never seen a fire before," I teased, a grin tugging at my lips.

    Alisax turned slightly, the darkness that replaced her face dipping toward me. "We Lumini were beings of light. We did not need fire or any other source of illumination or heat," she said, her voice oddly wistful. "However, this isn''t the first time I''ve seen fire."

    "And you are not the first human I''ve met."

    I froze, my eyes narrowing. That statement lingered in my mind like an unsolved riddle.

    The way she spoke��it wasn''t just her unnatural fluency with my language. She had mentioned back when we first met that human speech had ''evolved'' over millennia.

    Which meant only one thing.

    She had met humans before.

    A human who had entered the Abyss long ago, through the Tear.

    A flash of memory hit me��a tall knight, clad in brilliant white armor, eyes blazing with light, holding his sword high in the Sanctuary of Light.

    "Alisax," I began cautiously. "This human you spoke of�� did they wear white armor?"

    She seemed startled by the question, the shadows around her shifting. "You know Alexander?"

    My heart pounded. I nodded slowly. "I''ve heard of him. Alexander Zierhart, a legendary Paladin who entered the Tear millennia ago."

    My fist clenched, the memory of that vicious battle in the Sanctuary of Light surging forward. "I fought his brother, Isaac. Well, his spirit."

    "Isaac Zierhart?" Alisax tilted her head slightly, curiosity in her voice. "Alexander did tell me he had a brother."

    "How do you know him?" I asked, falling in step beside her as she started walking, her form trailing shadows behind her.

    Her distorted voice grew wistful. "It was during my time as a Luminus. We encountered him during one of Queen Phoebe''s travels."

    "We found him in a village, seeking shelter in the home of a lone Luminus who had kept his existence a secret," she continued, a faint chuckle escaping her. "Unfortunately, you cannot hide anything from the Queen."

    Her tone softened, her voice becoming almost reverent. "When Alexander saw her, he fell to his knees instantly, bowing his head in absolute reverence. He seemed to instinctively know who she was."

    "The Queen recognized him as one of the humans she had spoken to."

    "Well, he was a Paladin from the Order of Lux," I shrugged, keeping my tone casual, though the weight of history pressed down on me.

    "Indeed," Alisax agreed, her voice shifting slightly as if she was caught between admiration and something deeper. "He was a bold man, but his strength backed up his words."

    She paused, and I noticed her rubbing her arm awkwardly. "I challenged Alexander to a duel�� to show him the superiority of a Luminus." She looked away, as if embarrassed. "He defeated me."

    I whistled low, impressed.

    Isaac Zierhart was an intermediate S-rank being, and I''d guessed Alisax''s strength was on par with Asphodel.

    For Alexander to have bested her, he had to be at least a Master S-rank.

    "You had a thing for him, didn''t you?" I asked with a mischievous grin, unable to resist.

    "A daemon and a human. Interesting."

    "I�� I wasn''t a daemon back then!" Alisax retorted, her shadowy form stiffening. "And he was quite the remarkable man. It''s only natural to feel something!"The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    If she had a face, I imagined it would be turning red. Shadows seemed to ripple awkwardly across her form.

    "Hey, no judgment here," I laughed. "It''s not a bad thing to be attracted to someone, even if they''re from a different race."

    She shot me a dark look, literally, the darkness underneath her hood pierced into me, her distorted voice warning, "I would advise you to keep your silence regarding that, Mordred."

    I raised my hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. I''ll stop."

    Silence fell between us as we continued walking, but my thoughts lingered on Alexander.

    He had willingly entered the Tear and was likely the only human to ever lay eyes on the Lumini.

    But there was something more. Alisax had referred to him in the past tense.

    My chest tightened as I asked, "Alisax�� what happened to Alexander?"

    She stopped abruptly, and I felt a wave of coldness sweep over me. A faint pressure began to settle around us, like the tightening of unseen chains.

    "He died," she whispered, her voice hollow. "He rushed to help Queen Phoebe, despite my pleas�� and was killed by the Darkling."

    The grief in her words cut through the air, raw and unfiltered.

    I chose my next words carefully. The last time Alisax spoke of the past, her rage nearly crushed me.

    "Will you remain calm enough to tell me what happened?" I asked, preparing myself for the weight of her aura.

    She turned to face me, her shadowy figure towering, and for a brief moment, I felt the crushing pressure before it dissipated.

    "I am calm, Mordred," her distorted voice echoed again, quieter this time. "But you must know. You must understand the betrayal that destroyed us."

    I held her eyeless gaze, my voice a low murmur. "The Darkling?"

    Alisax nodded slowly, the tension building as she spoke. "It was during one of the Queen''s travels, just like when we met Alexander."

    "She found the Darkling in a town�� an outcast, shunned by her people. She was a Luminus, like us, but blessed by Tenebris, not by Lux. A being of utter darkness. A mutant," Her voice dripped with loathing.

    "When Queen Phoebe asked for her name, the Darkling replied, ''I go by the name I have given myself.'' She called herself Lilith."

    The name sent a chill down my spine, and an icy wind swept over the barren landscape, sending shivers through my body.

    "Lilith," I whispered.

    Alisax''s voice filled with contempt. "She is the one who betrayed my queen. The Darkling who now calls herself the Daemon Queen."

    "She was a mere outcast when Queen Phoebe found her," Alisax continued with utter contempt, her voice distorted and sharp.

    "Her Majesty then surprised us all by holding out her hand to the Darkling, taking her in." She spat the words as if they left a bitter taste.

    "Even now, I wonder what drove Her Majesty to make such a choice. Perhaps it was her boundless selflessness... or pity? She never shared her reasoning with us, though we all had our suspicions."

    "I suppose, in a way, they were two sides of the same coin��Queen Phoebe, reserved and steadfast, while Lilith was the most outgoing person I had ever met."

    Her head tilted slightly as if recalling a distant memory, the bitterness softening into something closer to melancholy.

    "But even then, I could never have imagined the depth of the bond they would forge... or the path it would lead us down."

    The daemon let out a quiet sigh. "Queen Phoebe and Lilith��so different, yet so alike. Her Majesty was reserved, barely showing emotion."

    "But Lilith, well... Lilith was the exact opposite. She laughed, she cried, she embraced life with all the fire of someone who had everything to prove."

    Alisax''s tone shifted, tinged with reluctant admiration.

    "It wasn''t just her warmth and expressiveness that won us over. Lilith had a way of speaking to you as if you were the only person that mattered in the world."

    "Even the most hardened soldiers found themselves smiling in her presence. It was as if the darkness she wielded only made her light shine brighter." Her voice caught for a moment, before continuing.

    "It wasn''t long before she was loved by everyone, a Darkling who shone brighter than the Lux Incarnus herself."

    "But none adored her more than Queen Phoebe, who raised her like the sister she never had. The Queen was her protector, her confidante. They shared a bond none of us could touch."

    Alisax shook her head slowly, her tone growing colder again. "Lilith excelled in combat and diplomacy. It didn''t take long for her to stand beside me and the other commanders as Her Majesty''s most trusted retainers."

    "We revered Queen Phoebe and our loyalty toward her was absolute, but Lilith? She was the one everyone spoke about."

    Her eyeless gaze seemed far away, lost in a time long past. "Lilith was also present when we encountered Alexander."

    "She was fascinated by him as if he held the key to some truth she was searching for."

    There was a pause, and Alisax''s voice turned pensive. "Their conversations lasted for hours��about humanity, about the Order of Lux. At the time, I thought it was mere curiosity."

    She clenched her fist, her tone hardening once more. "They had many long talks, where he satisfied her curiosity about humans, and she told him about the Lumini."

    Alisax paused before saying what appeared to be the most important part of the story.

    "Sometime after Alexander appeared, another human followed, or at least, that''s what I recall seeing."

    I stopped in my tracks and stared at her. "Did you say�� another human?"

    There is no way that is possible. From what I learned from Isaac Zierhart''s journal, entry into the Tear was forbidden, and there was constant monitoring to ensure no one violated that rule.

    The daemons first appeared long after Isaac''s passing so there was no accidental falling into the Tear during battle.

    Isaac meticulously noted down in the journal the names of everyone who tried to enter the Tear and were stopped.

    He was that serious about keeping people from entering the Tear.

    From what Alisax is saying, a human entered the Tear after Alexander, avoiding the eagle eyes of Isaac and the Paladins on guard.

    Alisax faltered, and the darkness billowing off her flickered as she clutched her head.

    "I�� don''t know. The only thing I''m sure of is that it was a man. I remember seeing him, but��"

    Her voice quivered with confusion. "I�� cannot remember his face. That is odd. My memory is flawless, yet whenever I try to remember that man, my mind becomes fuzzy."

    She shook her head as if trying to shake away the fog that clouded her memory.

    "Why can''t I remember?" Her voice quivered with an edge of panic, the darkness around her flickering like a flame struggling for air.

    The pressure of her aura thickened, bearing down on me. Shadows swirled like a tempest around her form as she clutched her head, trembling. "It''s like his face was�� erased."

    I strode forward and grabbed her hand with a firm grip. "Alisax! Snap out of it!"

    My words seemed to reach her as I felt her aura stabilize. Her shoulders moved up and down as if she was taking some deep breaths.

    "Thank you, Mordred," she said softly, her voice steadying. "My memory has never failed me before... not like this. It''s unsettling."

    I frowned as the situation became even more baffling. There''s no way that a human could have entered the Tear without Isaac or the Paladins noticing.

    Someone entered right after Alexander Zierhart and made contact with the Lumini, and ultimately, the Lux Incarnus. Alisax remembers seeing this mystery man but can''t recall his face.

    One of Eravon''s conversations came to mind. He once told me about an interesting code that could prevent someone from remembering your appearance, making it impossible for them to recognize you.

    There''s no doubt in my mind that Alisax''s memory is as flawless as she claims. She could recall events from thousands of years ago with ease. The only time she faltered was when she tried to remember this man.

    Whoever he was, there''s a good chance he used the same or a similar code to conceal his identity.

    One burning question remained: who was this guy?

    "Alisax," I spoke carefully. "You don''t remember that man, but do you know what he was doing here?"

    Alisax paused and thought about it before nodding her head. "Yes. He said he wished to see Lilith."

    "He wished to see the Darkling instead of the Incarnus of Lux?" I asked, unable to hide my surprise at the stranger''s peculiar choice.

    Alisax nodded slowly. "Indeed. I was surprised as well. But the others�� they seemed unsurprised."

    Her voice grew softer, carrying a weight of memory. "But I''ll never forget the look on Alexander''s face when he saw that man. For the first time, I saw absolute hatred and rage in him��raw, unguarded." She paused as if even now struggling to reconcile the memory.

    "He called the man a monster and told me to warn Queen Phoebe immediately. At the time, I thought he was overreacting. I assumed they had some history, that perhaps this man was an old enemy of his."

    She lifted her eyeless gaze into mine, and her tone grew regretful. "I told Alexander not to worry, assured him our Queen had slain gods before. ''What harm could one human pose to her?'' I said."

    Her shoulders slumped, and she looked down, her distorted voice heavy with remorse. "Now I can''t help but wonder�� if I had been more prudent back then, would things have gone differently?"

    I know I asked her a lot of times but I couldn''t help it. I was hooked on the story. "What happened?"

    Alisax looked up to the crimson sky above us, dotted with black stars.

    "It all started when the sky transformed into what it is right now. It was an unbelievable phenomenon. The bright dome that spread out above us changed into one of pure nightmares."

    "It was then that the Chief Commander, Naberiax approached me and told me something that was nothing short of blasphemy."

    She clenched her clawed hand, her distorted voice tight with anger.

    "To betray Queen Phoebe and put Lilith on the throne."

 107 Wait. Thats Not A Mountain?

    I stared at Alisax and shook my head.

    "That''s got to be the dumbest thing I''ve heard all day."

    She faltered, clearly surprised. "What?"

    I shrugged. "Think about it. Your High Commander wanted to betray and depose the Luminus Queen��an Incarnus known for slaying gods. And he wanted to replace her with a Darkling who had�� good interpersonal skills? That''s just bloody dumb."

    The daemon chuckled, her distorted voice carrying an almost melodic quality. "You humans are truly fascinating. No matter how absurd the odds, your sense of optimism is almost infectious."

    She turned her head toward the sky as if searching for something long lost. "Alexander was like that too. Even when it was clear all was lost, he carried a hope so fierce it almost made you believe it was true."

    I looked at her, the flickering shadows around her tall form blending into her black armor like living flames.

    There was something hauntingly beautiful about her��a stark contrast to the darkness she embodied. For a moment, I wondered how she had looked as a Luminus.

    "So," I asked, half-curious, half-wary. "What did you tell your High Commander?"

    "I told him I would rather die than become a traitor," she said, venom lacing her distorted voice. The air grew heavy with her anger, her aura crackling like restrained lightning.

    "And what did he say?" I asked quietly, bracing myself.

    She shook her head with a bitter sigh. "That was the most baffling thing he ever said. He told me I was the most sane of us all. And then he left."

    Her shoulders tensed, the shadows around her flaring. "Soon after, a sickness spread among the Lumini."

    "It wasn''t just a disease; it was a darkness that consumed them. It turned them into twisted beings of shadow�� into daemons."

    Her clawed hands trembled, her voice cracking. "Alexander was the first to notice. It was as if he felt the distress of his goddess."

    "He gripped his sword, his light shining brighter than I''d ever seen, and ran to the throne room without hesitation. That was the last time I saw him."

    I scratched my cheek awkwardly, unsure of what to say. "I, uh�� I''m sorry."

    She shook her head. "Thank you, Mordred," Her voice grew colder. "I tried to follow him, but I was ambushed by royal soldiers��my own comrades."

    "The darkness had already consumed them, twisting them into the daemon soldiers you Deathwalkers fought in Blood Valley."

    "Oh," I muttered, scratching my cheek again. "Sorry. I, uh�� kind of disintegrated them in Blood Valley."

    She waved her hand dismissively. "It''s fine, Mordred. They were already too far gone."

    Her claws clenched into trembling fists. "I fought my way toward the throne room, cutting down those who once served under me. But just as I was about to reach my goal, I was stopped by Zygaxis."

    She turned her eyeless gaze to me, her distorted voice heavy with sorrow. "You humans know him by the name you gave him."

    A chill ran down my spine as she spoke the name.

    "Asphodel."

    Zygaxis. So that''s the name of that rooty son of a bitch. I would carve it into his chest the next time we met.

    "What did you do?" I asked, even though I already had an idea of the answer.

    "At first, I didn''t recognize him," she replied, her voice dropping. "He had become an abomination��a mass of blackened roots and darkness. He told me he had gained power beyond anything he''d ever wielded and offered me the same."

    She shuddered, her voice dripping with disgust. "I rejected him and called him an absolute traitor. We fought. Even before his corruption, Zygaxis was a formidable opponent. As a daemon, he was�� monstrous. The toughest foe I''ve faced in my long life."A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    She lowered her head, shame etched into every trembling movement. "It wasn''t enough. I was defeated, stripped of my armor, and dragged to the throne, where he tossed me at Lilith''s feet."

    Her voice faltered as she continued. "Lilith smiled. Not the cruel, sadistic grin you''d expect, but something soft. Kind."

    "She kneeled, held my face as if I were her child, and whispered how ''adorable'' it was that I still believed in Queen Phoebe."

    Her clawed hands clutched at her arms as though trying to protect herself from the memory. "Darkness seeped out of her hands. It was warm like a tide washing away all my pain, my anger�� everything."

    "For the first time, I felt free."

    She laughed bitterly, her voice trembling. "The terrifying thing is�� I didn''t resist. I let it happen. I let the darkness consume me. And for a moment, it was bliss."

    Her head snapped up, shadows surging around her. "But just as the transformation took hold, a blinding flash of light tore me away from her grasp."

    "I snapped back to my senses and witnessed my Queen standing before me, her entire body blazing like a star as she faced the Darkling who had turned her people into monsters."

    "The moment I saw Her Majesty, hope surged through me. She was the Goddess of Restoration and the slayer of gods. I believed, without a shadow of a doubt, that she would save us all."

    "Well, that''s what I believed at the time," Alisax said with a sigh. "But the hope I felt then�� turned into horror and disgust as I realized the creature I had become."

    Her hands shook as she raised them to her head. "Lilith turned me into a monster with her touch. When I saw what I had become, I lost all rationality. I couldn''t face Queen Phoebe. I was horrified�� so I fled."

    Her voice cracked. "I ran, hoping foolishly that the darkness would fall away as I escaped the palace, my home�� my Queen."

    She clenched her claws. "I saw Lumini��bright and dim, young and old��succumbing to the darkness. But they didn''t resist. It was as though they welcomed it."

    Her voice grew quieter. "And I didn''t stop to help. I just ran, as if outrunning my shame."

    "By the time I calmed down and decided to return, it was too late. Queen Phoebe was gone. I could no longer feel her presence. Every Luminus had become a daemon, and Lilith turned her gaze to the world beyond the Tear."

    "Huh. I guess that''s when the demons started popping into Blood Valley," I remarked and noticed Alisax''s forlorn body language.

    I stood on my tippy toes and patted her shoulder. Her jagged armor was cold as ice and a sharp edge nicked my finger. But I ignored it.

    "I''m terrible at comforting people, but you''re being too hard on yourself," I said, looking up at her towering frame.

    "You were overwhelmed and acted on instinct. That''s not cowardice��that''s survival," I gazed into the fathomless darkness underneath her hood.

    Alisax turned her head to me. "I fled, Mordred. I abandoned my queen and left her to fend off against Lilith and the traitors," her distorted voice was hollow and broken.

    I walked past her and looked at the vast landscape stretching before us. In the distance, I noticed the faint silhouette of what looked like a mountain.

    It is quite odd, a solitary mountain rising from the vast white landscape.

    For me to even see its faint silhouette this far away, it must be colossal.

    "Alisax" I turned to face her. "Perhaps that''s what the Incarnus wanted. She wanted you to escape. If she couldn''t save her people, maybe she was glad to save you."

    Alisax seemed surprised by my words. "What makes you say that?"

    I smiled. "From what you told me about Phoebe, what she did back then, seems to be in tune with her selfless character."

    "I believe she wanted you to flee with your life."

    I could feel Alisax''s eyeless gaze on me before a chuckle escaped her. "You humans and your boundless optimism are truly fascinating."

    She stood beside me and pointed to the faint silhouette in the distance. "That is our destination."

    "The faraway mountain?" I asked with a frown.

    Alisax shook her head. "That used to be the capital city of the Lumini. Now, it is the fortress and palace of Lilith, the Daemon Queen."

    I blinked and stared at her. "Wait. That''s not a mountain?"

    The daemon turned to me. "No Mordred. That is not a mountain."

    "Holy Incarni," I breathed out and felt faint as the sense of scale hit me like a blow from a hammer.

    I plopped to the ground and took out a vial of blood, the last one in my possession.

    Opening the vial, I took a sip. My mind cleared and a burst of energy perked me up.

    Alisax observed as I let out a relaxed breath and took another sip.

    "Doesn''t drinking blood cause problems in the digestive system of humans?" she asked, perplexed by my behavior.

    "I''m special. So I''ll be fine," I remarked, holding up the half-empty vial. "Plus this is the blood of a Paladin. Well, ex-paladin but one nonetheless. It is quite potent."

    "I am actually addicted to blood but fortunately, I can control the urges, well, most of the time, that is," I let out a chuckle before emptying the vial and feeling the surge of ecstasy and power coursing all over my body.

    "Ah," Alisax sat down beside me. "Sometimes it is good to indulge to calm yourself down. You will need to have a strong mind."

    "After all, we have a long journey ahead."

 108 Not The Welcome Reception I was Expecting

    "Yep. We''re getting closer to Lilith''s fortress."

    I remarked as I tore the head off a daemon knight, black ooze splattering across my face.

    "These are the knights under Naberiax,"  Alisax replied, driving a jagged black dagger through a daemon''s head. She spun, her longsword flashing, dismembering another with effortless grace.

    Her movements were terrifyingly efficient, almost elegant.

    "I''m afraid this means that Lilith is aware of your presence in this world," Alisax appeared beside me, her distorted voice hard, before punching a hole into a daemon that had sneaked up on me.

    I swiftly switched weapons, throwing a spear that impaled a daemon in the chest.

    I gritted my teeth as I stumbled forward. I haven''t gotten used to fighting with one arm.

    As if on cue, Alisax snatched the spear from the disintegrating daemon, spinning it to sweep away a group of the shadowy creatures.

    Her combat skills left me in awe. She was disintegrating daemons with a single touch. Like me, it appears that she had mastered multiple weapons.

    Master of multiple weapons and ranked at S-tier? She''d be a nightmare for anyone��even Kay.

    Thank the Incarni that she hates the Daemon Queen.

    Suddenly, the ground shook. A ten-foot daemon, armored in black shadows, loomed before me. Its great sword swung down, missing me by a breath.

    Activating Haema, my blood appendages rushed at the daemon, ripping into its body. They contracted, pulling me toward the creature.

    The edge of my sword flashed green and the daemon''s head rolled to the ground.

    As more daemons emerged from behind the rising, I concentrated, forming a blood arm where my right one should''ve been.

    It felt�� better. Stable.

    "This feels much better," I smirked, transforming my white sword into the twin white daggers.

    The basilisk emerald edges of the Fangs glowed, and I charged.

    Leaping into the air, my blood appendages unfurled and shot toward the creatures.

    My daggers met a daemon''s blade mid-swing, a shockwave tearing through the air. Sparks flew as I spun, kicking the creature''s side. It staggered back, but the force sent it skidding across the ghostly white ground.

    A chill passed over me as Alisax appeared out of thin air, catching a daemon that snuck behind me by the neck and slamming it into the ground.

    More and more daemons surrounded us as we fought viciously, each wave getting stronger than the previous ones.

    Blood swirled around me, forming multiple Vortex Bloodlances that impaled the daemons to the ghostly white ground.

    "This is getting annoying," I growled as a daemon drove a sword through my leg. Pain flared, white-hot, and consuming. The weapons of these daemons are worse than the ones in Blood Valley.

    Another daemon swung an axe at my blood arm, but it passed through harmlessly.

    Blood swirled on my palm and I unleashed a powerful Blood Grenade that tore apart the daemons.

    Grunting painfully, I stumbled forward, crimson smoke trailing off my body covered in burns. I didn''t have the luxury to move away when the grenade exploded, so I was caught right in the middle of it.

    "Mordred!" Alisax yelled out, and her towering form appeared before me, the darkness trailing off her surrounding me as if enveloping me in a protective embrace.

    "I''m fine," I muttered, pushing away the shadows. My strand healed my wounds, but I felt every throb.

    Blood oozed from my wounds to the edge of my daggers, igniting into black and crimson flames.

    Multiple auras pressed down on me as ten daemons emerged from the small rise before us.

    Unlike the ones we''d faced before, these creatures looked more solid, their jagged black armor adorned with glowing purple patterns.

    Their lean, towering forms, taller than Alisax, moved in eerie unison, the long plumes of darkness atop their helmets swaying with each step.

    "They look more appealing than the others," I remarked, lifting the Fangs before me. Bloodfire seeped down my arms, encasing them in black and crimson flames.

    Alisax stretched out her hand and her darkness converged to form a formidable longsword made of pure black metal adorned with glowing white runes.

    "They are Naberiax''s elite knights,"  her distorted voice wavered. "They used to be my soldiers. I trained them myself."

    I sensed her resolve falter. Seeing her comrades whom she raised as warriors as those dark creatures must be devastating for her.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    I stepped forward, combining the Fangs into my white sword, enveloped in my blood and Bloodfire. "How about you stay out of this, Alisax? I will take them on."

    My daemon companion shook her head. "No. They''re stronger than the others we''ve fought. They''re close to S-rank."

    I smirked. "So am I, Alisax."

    Before she could protest, I entered my Triquetra state and shot forward, Bloodfire trailing behind me like a fiery comet.

    I stopped just before the first daemon and tightened my grip around the handle, ready to attack.

    But the daemon vanished in an instant. Pain flared through me as cold metal slid through my abdomen.

    Shit.

    I immediately jumped back, blazing pain ripping into my body. Before I could use Haema to heal, two black swords appeared in my peripheral vision, aiming for my neck.

    Instinct kicked in, and I ducked, but a swift kick drove into my stab wound, nearly knocking me off balance.

    My blood appendages instantly dug into the ground, absorbing the shock and keeping me upright

    Two of them unfurled and shot out, aiming for the daemons flanking me, but they deflected them effortlessly.

    Haema worked on my wounds as I forced myself forward, rage surging through me. My blade clashed with the daemon that had kicked me, sparks flying with every brutal strike.

    We exchanged strike after strike, each contact between our blades generating ripples in the air while the other two daemons evaded my blood appendages.

    Bloodfire flared along the edges of my blade, growing in intensity as more blood ran along its length.

    Whenever blood splashed out at the daemon, the crimson and black flames would pounce on it like vipers.

    The daemon knight lunged, its jagged sword aimed at my head. I shifted my head to the left.

    The jagged edges of the black sword brushed against my shoulders as I rushed forward.

    They hurt, but not as much as the hurt I will unleash on this son of a bitch.

    That is if daemons can feel pain.

    The tip of my sword broke through the daemon''s armor, piercing its throat. The daemon suddenly froze as the paralysis effect took hold of its body.

    Without stopping, I pushed deeper, running the blade through the creature''s throat.

    The blood on the blade splashed all over the daemon and Bloodfire pounced, consuming the daemon in seconds.

    Pulling out my sword, I quickly twisted around to block the swords of the other two daemons that somehow managed to evade my appendages.

    Their combined force pushed me back and in the corner of my eye, I saw Alisax dealing with the remaining seven daemon knights.

    The daemons'' coordination was flawless and uncanny. Each covered for the other as they unleashed a continuous assault on their vastly stronger foe.

    Alisax was unaffected by this continuous assault as she gracefully deflected all of their attacks with deadly precision, never showing them an opening to attack.

    But there is something wrong. She is on the defensive, trying to avoid directly attacking the daemons.

    I gritted my teeth. She is holding back, reluctant to harm her former comrades.

    This won''t do.

    "Bugger off, you bastards," I muttered, sending my blood appendages at the two daemons.

    They quickly jumped back to avoid them but I acted quickly. Clenching my fist at the nearest daemon, I activated one of the newest codes I learned.

    {Haema: Blood Maiden}

    A powerful stream of blood flowed from my body and quickly moved toward the daemon. As the stream of blood got closer, it swirled and formed the shape of a woman.

    The Blood Maiden stretched out her arms and quickly embraced the daemon.

    As soon as the blood touched the daemon''s body, crimson spikes erupted all over the Blood Maiden''s body, piercing through the daemon''s armor and body.

    Black ooze seeped out of the daemon''s body and onto the swirling crimson body of the Blood Maiden as her embrace tightened, trapping the daemon in place.

    Swift as a flash, I was before the daemon. Bloodfire burned brightly as I drove my blade through the Blood Maiden and into the daemon''s heart.

    Without missing a beat, I summoned multiple Shredding Gyroscopes, sending them at the second daemon knight.

    It deflected the deadly spinning orbs, but they kept coming.

    With a burst of speed, I rushed at the knight. Weaving between the orbs, I reached its blind spot and went for the kill.

    But the knight vanished, reappearing behind me.

    Shit.

    Instinctively, I twisted around, deflecting a deadly attack. Our blades slid against each other, Bloodfire igniting into a bright inferno.

    I weaved around the daemon, coming right behind it. I raised my blood arm and a bolt of crystallized blood formed in the air.

    Grabbing it, I drove it into the daemon''s leg, pinning it to the ground. Morphing my sword back into daggers, I held one of them in a reverse grip and drove it into the daemon''s head.

    I yanked the dagger down, forcing the daemon''s body to go through my second dagger.

    Black ooze gushed out on me as I twisted the dagger blade embedded in its heart and dragged the blade sideways, slicing the upper torso in one swift motion.

    As the remaining body of the daemon disintegrated into black smoke, I turned to join Alisax but stopped cold.

    She stood alone, seven wisps of smoke fading around her. Her sword hovered near the ground, her grip loose, as though ready to drop it.

    Looks like she finished them off herself.

    I approached her, the pain in my body slowly subsiding as my strand continued to heal my wounds.

    She turned to me, the darkness underneath her hood exuding a feeling of defeat despite her rather easy victory over the daemon knights.

    "They were too far gone, Mordred. "I''m the fool who didn''t accept it," she said with an empty chuckle.

    She clenched her fist, an icy pressure washing over me. "But even I have my limits."

    I glanced at the tendrils of smoke drifting into the crimson sky.

    "You probably did them a favor," I said, looking at Alisax. "By killing them, you kind of freed them from their daemonic selves."

    Alisax tilted her head at me. "That''s a terrible way to reassure me�� But thank you."

    If she had a face, I swear she''d be smiling.

    "Ah, Alisax. You''re still soft as ever."

    The hair on my neck stood on end. A chill swept down my spine as a guttural, distorted voice spoke.

    A looming presence appeared behind me, the air thick with an overwhelming, revolting aura. My instincts screamed at me as I dared to look behind me.

    What now?

 109 I Get Mistaken For A Girl. Again

    Alisax acted immediately.

    Before I could fully turn to face the terrible being behind me, her shadowy hand seized my collar, and she hurled me away with a force that left no room for argument.

    I twisted midair, landing on my feet, but the moment I looked up, my blood turned to ice.

    Alisax stood before a daemon, so towering that it made her seem like a child in its shadow.

    Its lean body was an abomination of shadows, twisted into jagged black-and-gold armor, that flared like flames.

    Long, grotesque arms dangled almost to the ground, ending in barbed claws that flexed with deliberate menace.

    Its head looked like a ball of black fire, with darkness dancing around like flames and two points of light glowing purple from underneath the swirling darkness.

    This is the first time I am seeing eyes on a daemon.

    Yet, its gaze wasn''t on me.

    "It''s been some time Alisax. I must say it is good to see you again," the daemon''s guttural and distorted voice grated in my ears. It was as if this creature was gargling with gravel all its life.

    Alisax''s distorted voice was tight with suppressed rage. "Can''t say the same, Genisix."

    A lump of ice dropped in my stomach when I heard the name Alisax uttered.

    Genisix.

    One of the Commanders who served the Lux Incarnus and one of the first to join Lilith.

    Alisax had spoken of him during our journey across the vast white landscape of the Abyss.

    Judging by the sheer contempt in her voice when she talked about him, I assume she is not his biggest fan.

    The grip on my daggers tightened as I observed Genisix''s unnatural and horrifying arms. Those are going to be a problem.

    Alisax flung me away to keep me safe. I know she could handle this. She is an S rank and I haven''t seen her full power yet.

    But that is the same for Genisix as well.

    The daemon chuckled, a sound like grinding metal. "You''ve always been an interesting one, Alisax, even as a Luminus."

    Venom dripped out of Alisax''s voice as she replied. "And you''ve always been a slithery bastard."

    The shadows around him shifted, almost laughing with him. "Perhaps. I was never one for direct combat like you, Zygaxis, or the High Commander."

    His claws rose slightly, the motion unnervingly graceful. "I prefer... other methods."

    My instincts kicked in, and I immediately jumped away, just as the ground beneath me erupted and chains of twisted black metal shot upward.

    Each was tipped with jagged spikes, their ends aimed at me like the fangs of a beast.

    Oh, that''s not good.

    I darted across the cracked white ground, barely avoiding the chains, Transcendence working at full throttle so that I could keep up with their insane speed.

    "GENISIX!", Alisax''s furious voice echoed across the battlefield as she charged, her black longsword cutting through the air.

    But her black longsword passed through the air as Genisix vanished before her.

    Only for his guttural voice to speak in my head. "We have quite a feisty human here."

    Pain flared in my leg before I could even register the attack. A black spike had driven through my thigh, pinning me in place.

    The world tilted as more chains surged forward, coiling around my body with horrifying precision.

    I struggled, thrashing as my blood arm dissipated on contact with the frigid metal.

    The chains tightened further, their icy grip sinking into my flesh and drawing crimson streaks across my skin.

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    My daggers slipped from my grasp, clattering to the ground as the smoky face of the daemon appeared in my vision, its burning purple eyes seemingly sizing me up.

    A terrifying aura shook the air as Alisax yelled in fury. "LET HIM GO. YOU BASTARD!"

    Genisix didn''t so much as flinch. "What is it with you and humans?" he mused, his guttural voice calm, almost amused. "The last time I saw you, you clung to that shiny human in the white armor."

    The daemon''s blazing head loomed closer, cold radiating from his twisted form. The darkness around him licked at my skin like hungry flames.

    "And now you hang around this�� pretty human?" He tilted his head, as if genuinely puzzled. "Are you male or female?"

    My eye twitched at his words.

    Okay. Narcissism aside. I still draw the line at being mistaken for a woman.

    "I''m a guy," I replied, meeting the daemon''s gaze with a smirk. "And one who''s way prettier than you. Heck, even the ugliest person I know could outshine that void you call a face."

    I leaned forward, the chains biting into my skin.

    But I didn''t care.

    I grinned and let out a taunt. "That''s because we have faces."

    The chains constricted, and I let out a sharp gasp, pain lancing through my chest.

    "You''re a cheeky one," Genisix remarked, the shadows around him shifting like a restless tide.

    The air cracked like thunder and a sudden wave of bloodlust surged, freezing me in place. Metal rang against metal, the sound sharp and jarring.

    At the same time, the chains crushed me tighter, and I heard the cracking of bones.

    The daemon''s head still filled my vision but I''m pretty sure Alisax had just attacked him.

    "Careful there, Alisax," he purred, his voice dripping with mockery. "I wouldn''t want to crush your pretty companion by mistake."

    "LET HIM GO YOU HEATHEN!", Alisax roared, her voice raw with rage and desperation.

    "Oh, I will," he drawled. "After all, Her Majesty''s orders are clear. She''s quite interested in this boy." His burning eyes locked onto mine, probing. "Ever since Zygaxis left him on the shore. And now, you''ve come back, Alisax. The wayward daughter of our queen. She misses you, you know."

    "I''m not her daughter and I will never return to that traitorous bitch," Alisax''s distorted voice was low and frigid.

    "It is blasphemous to speak of Her Majesty like that."

    When Genisix spoke those words, the chains immediately tightened like a vice around me.

    Pain shot through me, sharp and unrelenting, as my bones broke. My breath hitched, but I didn''t scream.

    I am used to pain. This is nothing.

    Please do not scream, it will affect Alisax.

    I gritted my teeth.

    Fuck! I can''t believe I''m in such a helpless state!

    "Oops! I might''ve accidentally tightened the chains! But I must say that we have quite the resilient human here!" Genisix''s mocking voice grated in my ears.

    "STOP IT!" Alisax''s scream was filled with panic.

    "Humans are interesting," the daemon commander mused. "We can learn a lot from them."

    "We all learned their language from that shiny human, that Paladin you were quite interested in, Alisax."

    Raising me high in the air, Genisix casually approached Alisax, whose murderous Bloodlust was freezing my blood.

    "It broke my heart to fight Alexander that day, who had become a close friend. Like this pretty human, he had quite the mouth, even at death''s door. His banter, which I enjoyed a lot had become a bit too much during our battle."

    His claws flexed, and his voice dropped to a chilling whisper. "So I ripped his tongue out."

    "GENISIX!"

    Alisax''s scream of rage shattered the air. Her aura erupted, tendrils of darkness splitting into hundreds of blades that hung suspended, ready to strike.

    With a roar, she charged, her sword slicing the air with deadly precision.

    And that''s when I found myself between the two daemons with Alisax''s sword inches from my face and the hundreds of black blades raining down on me.

    Oh, Genisix. You sneaky little��

    In an instant, her sword hovered a mere centimeter before my eyes and the tips of the flying blades touched my hair, their intense chill somehow reaching my scalp.

    "You�� You dirty fucking coward," Alisax''s voice quivered with fury.

    Suddenly a black spike erupted through her chest from behind, cutting off her words and causing her blades to dissipate into darkness.

    Before she could even make a sound, chains impaled her from all sides, wrapping her in an unrelenting vise.

    Black ooze spilled from her wounds, and her screams pierced the air as the chains lifted her into the air.

    "I prefer the term ''fighting smart'', old friend. I didn''t want this to be how we reunited after millennia but I am just following orders," Genisix spoke softly in his guttural voice before wrapping the flailing Alisax in more black chains, completely sealing her.

    He turned to me and stretched out his claws at me. I didn''t flinch or cringe away from his repulsive touch as he wiped the blood flowing out of my mouth.

    "Things will become interesting now that you are here, human," he said as more chains wrapped around me.

    I spit out a mouthful of blood at Genisix, which weirdly passed through him as if he were a ghost.

    "After Asphodel. I''ll make sure to rip you apart," I declared with a smirk as the chains enveloped me in a frigid darkness.

    I heard a chuckle as the last chains clinked in place.

    "Oh, you will, young prince. I''ll look forward to that day."

 110 A Kinky Daemon Queen?

    I always prided myself on my ability to know exactly where I am without the help of visual information.

    There was a time in my old world when my fellow knights blindfolded me and took me all over the city of Camelot on horseback.

    I still remember their astonished faces when I told them about the exact route they took down to the cobblestones of the corners and the turns we took.

    I couldn''t help but crack a smile despite the tight situation I am in now.

    And it is quite tight.

    Worst of all. I have no idea where I am. I am so cut off from the outside by these chains that I don''t know if I am even in the right position.

    I could be upside down for all I know.

    I guess that''s how these chains work. They strip away one''s sense of position, making one feel weightless in the cold darkness.

    I can still control ardor, but can''t use it to sense my position or try to escape. Looks like the chains kind of filter the ardor flowing in.

    And so I relaxed and allowed my strand to heal my injured and exhausted body.

    Despite not knowing where I am, I do have an idea of where I am being taken.

    The palace of Lilith, the queen of the daemons.

    I would have to stand my ground, one way or another, so I must rest and conserve my energy.

    Lilith��

    Just what kind of monster will you be?

    *******

    I did not expect a plush carpet.

    It was the second-softest thing I had ever experienced��the first being Iris''s lips when we kissed.

    I would''ve enjoyed those amazing memories on the soft carpet if I hadn''t fallen face-first into it.

    Ouch.

    "Well, that must not be pleasant," a soft voice cooed, smooth as silk and sweet as honey.

    I raised my head and froze at what I saw.

    Beautiful. The word felt inadequate as I gazed upon her.

    Her obsidian hair cascaded like liquid night streaked with shimmering violet strands that pulsed faintly, like veins of molten amethyst.

    Her pale, flawless skin seemed to glow faintly in the dim light, a stark contrast to the deep black of her slip-on dress.

    The fabric hugged her lithe frame, clinging like shadows sculpted to perfection, embroidered with faintly glowing purple patterns that swirled like living runes.

    But it was her face��her soft, kind smile��that captivated and unnerved me most. Her lips, a deep red like freshly spilled wine, curved in a way that promised warmth, understanding, even love.

    Her eyes were twin pools of luminous violet. They gleamed with curiosity, and amusement... and something darker veiled just beneath the surface.

    Brushing her hair over her ear with her long and thin fingers, she smiled.

    "Nice to meet you, Mordred Pendragon," she said, her voice smooth and intimate like a lover''s.

    She began to circle me slowly, her bare feet gliding soundlessly over the carpet, her glowing eyes looking me up all over, making me feel exposed.

    The vast hall around us seemed to darken and brighten in rhythm with her steps.

    The towering black stone pillars, etched with shifting, glowing engravings, loomed overhead, disappearing into an unseen ceiling that seemed alive with a bright light as if the sun was shining through a clear glass ceiling.

    The plush purple carpet stretched before me until it reached a raised podium on which sat an elegant throne made of black crystal that shimmered in the light.

    The throne room was a place that radiated beauty, grandeur, and dread, much like the woman before me.

    There is something about her, something truly eerie yet enticing. Every movement she made, every breath she took captivated me.

    "You must be Lilith," I said, forcing the words out despite the tightness in my throat.

    The Daemon Queen''s smile widened as she stopped before me, a soft chuckle escaping her lips.

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    "Oh, clever boy," she purred, her voice sending shivers down my spine. "You catch on so quickly. No wonder Alisax was drawn to you."

    Her hand rose, fingers brushing against my cheek. Her touch was icy, but her movements were so tender, so deliberate, that it sent heat racing through my veins despite myself.

    "I didn''t expect a face," I replied, trying to shrug her off but her grip, though deceptively gentle, was immovable and I found myself unable to move my body.

    "Are you disappointed?" Lilith leaned closer, her breath warm against my skin. It carried a scent��sweet and intoxicating, like overripe fruit or wine spiked with something forbidden.

    "Such fire in those eyes," she murmured, her thumb lightly tracing the edge of my jaw.

    "Interesting."

    The Daemon Queen brought her face closer to mine, her purple eyes piercing into my soul.

    My breathing became heavy and my body started to feel warm. I can''t take my eyes off her and I can''t move a single inch despite how hard I tried.

    Her voice slowly pierced through my mind. "Why are you struggling, my dear? It pains me to see you like this."

    She sounded so sad that I faltered, almost losing myself to her voice, her touch, and her very existence.

    Desperately I tried to fight back and thought about the sole reason I am moving forward.

    Iris.

    I filled my mind with her��her wild laughter, her mischievous grin, the sparkle in her eyes that always defied the chaos around us. Her voice, her touch, her memory, they flooded my mind.

    Lilith''s hold began to weaken, and I felt the first flicker of movement in my fingers.

    Good. I am regaining control over my body.

    Unfortunately, Lilith realized that as well.

    "Oh, I love fighters," she breathed, her voice tinged with delight.

    Before I could react, her fingers slid to my temples, and a sharp, searing pain erupted in my head. I cried out, falling to my knees as the agony consumed me.

    "Shhh," she whispered, her voice soothing, and tender, even as my skull felt like it might split in two. "It''ll be over soon. Just let me in."

    And then, as abruptly as it began, the pain vanished. I was left gasping for breath, my vision swimming as Lilith stepped back, her hands clasped in front of her as though nothing had happened.

    "What did you do to me?" I rasped, glaring at her calm smile.

    Her smile softened, her head tilting slightly in mock innocence. "Oh, I only peeked," she said sweetly. "Your memories are... exquisite. So vivid, so delicious. I could spend hours savoring them. No wonder Alisax was intrigued by you."

    My heart skipped a beat. "Where is Alisax?"

    Lilith shrugged. "Oh, she''s in another place. I''ll get to her but I wanted to meet you first. Your memories are quite interesting."

    I glared at Lilith. "My memories are interesting?"

    Lilith''s smile widened, revealing teeth that gleamed too white. "You''ve locked part of yourself away," she murmured, almost to herself.

    "There''s something hidden, isn''t there? Memories I cannot reach, no matter how deeply I delve. Tell me, Mordred��what are you hiding from me?"

    My mind raced after hearing her words. Does this mean that she and Alisax only saw my memories of this life and not of my past life?

    Does this mean that something is keeping them from seeing those memories?

    So many questions swirled my mind as I met her gaze with cold resolve. "You''ll never know."

    Her laugh was soft, melodic, and utterly chilling. "Oh, Mordred," she said, her tone dripping with indulgence. "We''ll see about that. But for now..."

    She leaned closer again, her voice dropping to a near-whisper. "Let''s talk about Iris."

    The mention of her name hit me like a blow.

    Lilith''s eyes sparkled, as though she could taste the pain the name evoked. "Such a beautiful name," she purred, stepping closer. "And an even more beautiful girl. I almost envy her... the way you think of her, the way you ache for her."

    I froze and looked at Lilith, except she wasn''t there.

    "It''s a shame," her voice echoed all around me. "If she had remained with you in the Shield. I could''ve asked Zygaxis to bring you both."

    "What did you say?" My voice was quiet but sharp as I looked around, trying to find her.

    She appeared before me and her smile grew softer, almost pitying. "You and Iris would have made such lovely pets."

    Rage surged through me. "Don''t you dare��"

    "Shhh," she interrupted, placing a finger lightly against my lips. Her touch was cold as death, but her voice remained gentle. "No need to sound so scary."

    She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against my ear. "But oh, the things I could have done with the two of you. Broken her first after restoring her memories, made you watch. Or broken you and used you to destroy her."

    "Or perhaps..." Her voice dropped lower, softer. "I could have erased your memories, both of you and let you fall in love all over again, just to tear you apart anew."

    Her laughter, soft and melodic, sent shivers racing down my spine. "You would have been perfect," she continued her tone now wistful. "Such perfect toys. Such perfect pets."

    "With the right amount of agonizing pain, both physical and mental, and some rigorous training, you both could have become the perfect mongrels!" Lilith exclaimed, her sweet smile curling into something far more deranged��a twisted reflection of her own words.

    That was it.

    Before I even realized it, I had her hoisted into the air, my left hand clamped around her slender neck like a vice.

    "You''re sick," I snarled, my voice trembling with equal parts rage and disgust.

    Her reaction was as unsettling as everything else about her. The delicate smile on her face didn''t falter; it deepened.

    Her lips parted in a grin that was both serene and terrifying, a sinister delight flickering in her glowing amethyst eyes.

    She almost looked pleased, as if she enjoyed getting choked.

    "Am I?" she said softly, her voice like velvet, utterly unfazed despite the pressure tightening around her throat.

    Her tone was so calm, so maddeningly unshaken, that it sent a chill racing down my spine. "I merely spoke of what could have been, Mordred."

    Her eyes locked onto mine, glowing with an otherworldly intensity that seemed to pierce straight into my soul.

    "It''s a shame," she continued, her voice unwavering, seductive even.

    "But I suppose I''ll have to settle... for you."

 111 I Will Make You Mine

    "Good luck with that," I snarled, tightening my grip around her slender neck.

    Yet, despite gripping her throat with enough force to crush concrete, I found myself unable to choke the life out of her.

    "It would take far more than that to crush my neck, dear Mordred," Lilith said, her calm smile laced with mockery. "I am known for my... durability."

    Before I could fling her toward one of the black pillars, a heavy hand clamped down on my shoulder. A suffocating aura, vast and unfathomable, crushed down on me like a mountain.

    My grip faltered, and I let go of Lilith. She landed gracefully on her feet, smoothing her dress as if nothing had happened.

    "You didn''t need to come, Naberiax," she said, turning toward the entity behind me with a sly smile.

    "Allowing a human to lay his hand on my queen is a dereliction of duty I cannot overlook," a voice replied, deep and regal, its resonance shaking me to my core.

    A chill shot down my spine, and my body moved instinctively. Spinning around, I lashed out with a kick charged with ardor.

    Before I could even register what happened, I was airborne, hurled like a rag doll. I crashed into a black pillar with bone-breaking force.

    I didn''t even have time to brace myself or reinforce my body.

    Pain exploded through me. My bones cracked, my skull rattled, and my vision swam as blood dripped from my lips.

    Naberiax? Isn''t that the High Commander? Alisax had spoken of him��warned me about him��but I hadn''t even sensed his presence when he appeared behind me.

    Coughing out blood, I struggled to push my battered body off the floor. My head spun, and my vision blurred before finally clearing.

    What I saw turned my blood to ice.

    Standing beside Lilith, nearly dwarfing her, was a towering figure clad entirely in jagged, obsidian-black armor.

    Unlike most daemons, whose forms are shrouded in shifting shadows, his was solid��unmistakably real.

    The only movement came from the dark, billowing cape made of darkness draped over his broad shoulders, flowing like smoke and like the long black plume sharp helm.

    Ominous purple light seeped through the cracks and gaps in his armor, pulsing like the heartbeat of a monster.

    From the eye slits of his sharp, angular helm blazed two points of fiery light, locking onto me with predatory intensity.

    But the daemon''s most incredible and terrifying feature was his wings��massive, ruined things that might once have belonged to an angel. They were blackened, tattered, and grotesquely mangled.

    Like the wings of a Fallen Angel.

    "An interesting one, isn''t he?" Lilith said, striding toward me with an almost casual grace. "Naberiax is quite... special."

    She crouched before me, her slender fingers tilting my chin upward. Her smile deepened, curling with dark amusement.

    "You see, the High Commander of the Lumini was not a Luminus himself," she said, her voice as smooth and cold as silk.

    "No, he was a Malakh. He was so enamored by the brilliance of the Lux Incarnus that he abandoned his kind and swore fealty to her. With the leader of the Malakhs'' permission, he changed his name and devoted himself entirely to her service."

    She glanced over her shoulder at the silent, imposing figure behind her. Naberiax stood motionless, his blazing eyes fixed on me, as though peering straight into my soul.

    "With unwavering loyalty, he climbed the ranks to become High Commander��Phoebe''s most trusted retainer." Her gaze snapped back to mine, the cruel glint in her eyes growing sharper.

    "And if you''re wondering how someone so loyal could betray her..." Lilith leaned in close, her whisper brushing against my ear like venom. "Why don''t you ask him yourself?"

    But I wasn''t listening anymore.

    Seeing Naberiax up close ignited a memory��a report I''d read of one of the most catastrophic battles in Blood Valley. The infamous Crazy Scorched Day.

    A single entity had slaughtered an entire Deathwalker army in the blink of an eye, forcing an ex-member of the Hearth Sanctum to summon the Incarnus of Ignis.

    A single daemon that slaughtered every single Deathwalker in the blink of an eye, one that required a god to step in.

    A tall knight of blackened steel, with tattered wings of pure darkness.

    It was designated a terrifying code name.

    "Tartarus," I uttered, forcing myself shakily to my feet. My battered body screamed in protest, but I ignored it. My eyes were locked on Naberiax.

    The High Commander tilted his head, almost curiously. His distorted, regal voice echoed in my mind.

    "You seem to be aware of the name humans gave me. I feel honored that you humans gave me such an interesting name."

    Every instinct in my body screamed to run, but I couldn''t move. His mere presence was like a crushing weight.

    And yet, the most horrifying realization wasn''t his power.

    It was that someone like him��a living nightmare��was subservient to Lilith.

    My gaze went down to her, still crouching, her glowing purple eyes gleaming with a knowing light, her smile hinting that she could read every thought in my head.

    "Oh, I''m very strong, Mordred," she purred. "I am... something of an Incarnus myself."

    A sudden pressure descended, cold and suffocating. It sank deep into my bones, squeezing the breath from my lungs. My heart seized in my chest, caught in an icy vice.

    The pressure lifted just as abruptly, leaving me gasping. Lilith rose, stepping closer, her smile twisting into an innocent expression that belied the malice in her eyes.

    Even with the pressure gone, I couldn''t move my body. It was as if I was tightly bound with invisible wires.

    The only thing I can do is speak.

    "What do you want?" I demanded through clenched teeth, my voice trembling with fury and the effort to resist her control.

    Lilith''s fingers brushed my cheek, their chill seeping into my skin. "What I want, Mordred," she whispered, her tone almost tender, "is a loyal little doggie who can also fight."

    Before I could react, a black spike materialized in her hand, and she drove it into my stomach.

    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    The pain was instantaneous and unbearable, sharp and all-consuming. It tore through me, relentless and unyielding, far worse than anything I had ever endured��even Blood Reconstruction.

    My screams echoed through the throne room as the spike embedded itself deep into my body, radiating agony.

    The power holding me in place lifted and I collapsed to my knees, clutching my abdomen. The pain didn''t subside; it pulsed, raw and searing, through every nerve.

    Lilith''s voice drifted over my cries. "To become a good doggie, you''ll need training. And since you''re such a tough one, I''m afraid the training will have to be... harsh."

    My vision blurred as I struggled to breathe, each gasps a battle against the pain. I tried everything I could to lessen the agony.

    But none of them worked. The same pain flared in me, unyielding and cruel.

    Lilith knelt before me, her face swimming into focus. Her expression was gentle, almost kind, but the madness in her eyes betrayed her cruelty.

    "Endure it, my dear," she cooed, brushing my hair back. "No matter how long it takes, I will make you mine."

    Her words echoed in my mind as darkness swallowed my vision, pulling me into unconsciousness.

    *******

    Mordred''s eyes fluttered open and felt sand on his face.

    With a groan, he lifted himself off the ground to see the black sand below him.

    His mind was foggy, dulled by the echo of the pain he''d endured. Instinctively, his hand drifted to his stomach, where he felt it��the spike lodged deep inside him, dormant yet still alive.

    "I see you''re awake."

    The distorted, regal tone of Naberiax cut through the silence like a blade. Mordred''s gaze snapped forward, focusing on the daemon who stood a short distance away.

    Naberiax''s imposing figure was framed against the abyssal backdrop of his surroundings, his right hand resting on the hilt of an ornate black sword.

    The blade seemed to pulse with a life of its own, runes etched along its surface glowing faintly with a malevolent purple light.

    As Mordred shakily got to his feet, his crimson eyes darted around. The arena was roughly oval, encircled by three tiers of black stone seating, each emanating an oppressive aura.

    He turned his attention to the daemon before him. "What is this?"

    "Like Her Majesty said. You are to become her dog and like all good dogs, you must be trained," Naberiax replied smoothly.

    A sneer twisted Mordred''s lips. "Lilith''s dog? You think I''ll ever bow to her?"

    Naberiax tilted his head. "It appears you intend to make things difficult. Well. There is a way to tame uncontrollable dogs."

    In an instant, Naberiax disappeared, reappearing directly in front of Mordred. The suddenness of the movement caught him off guard.

    "Beat them into submission."

    Instinct kicked in and Mordred leapt back. But he was too slow. The black blade pierced through his uniform, sinking deep into his torso.

    Just as quickly as the sword entered his body, an armored fist smashed into his face, sending him crashing into the unforgiving black stone wall of the arena.

    He was heavily disoriented, his vision swimming in crimson.

    "Disappointing," Naberiax muttered, shaking his head as though bored. "Is this the warrior that brought Zygaxis to his knees?"

    Gritting his teeth, Mordred forced himself up, his legs trembling. Blood dripped from his mouth as he spat out shattered teeth.

    "I''m�� not going down that easily," he growled, his words slurred. His trembling hand reached for his sword, and with a deep breath, he activated the Triquetra state.

    His wounds began to close as Haema surged through his veins, but before he could strike, Naberiax''s blade filled his vision once more.

    Even with Transcendence, Mordred barely evaded the deadly blade and became open to a devastating punch that shattered his ribs.

    He gasped as the shards tore through his lungs, blood vessels rupturing like fragile glass.

    Before he could fall, a jagged black boot violently struck his chin, dislocating his jaw and nearly severing his head.

    The blow sent him flying, but Naberiax''s hand caught his leg in mid-air.

    In a swift motion, the daemon slammed Mordred into the ground. The impact broke his bones, the soft sand offering no cushion.

    Mordred''s cries of agony were cut short as Naberiax unleashed a relentless flurry of blows, pulverizing him into a broken heap.

    In a matter of seconds, Mordred Pendragon was reduced to a bloody mess that was barely alive, his breaths came in shallow, ragged gasps.

    "Enough, Naberiax. You might actually kill him," Lilith''s soft voice flowed into the arena as she appeared beside her High Commander.

    Her glowing eyes fell on Mordred''s mangled body, a mockery of concern flickering across her face.

    "You poor thing," she cooed, kneeling beside him

    Her delicate hand brushed against his crushed one, and tendrils of shadow coiled around him, enveloping him in a black cocoon.

    Moments later, the cocoon dissolved, revealing Mordred''s fully healed form. He lay unconscious, his chest rising and falling steadily.

    "Time to wake up, dear," Lilith purred, trailing her fingers to his abdomen, activating the spike in his body.

    With a scream of pure agony as the diabolical pain immediately spread through his body, Mordred woke up.

    Instinctively, his left arm shot up to seize Lilith''s throat.

    Before he could touch her, Naberiax''s iron grip snapped his arm, the sickening crack echoing in the still air.

    "Hey!" Lilith pouted, crossing her arms. "I just healed him."

    "Apologies, Your Majesty, but I must protect you," Naberiax replied calmly, lifting the struggling Mordred. "I will take him to his cell."

    Lilith clapped her hands with childlike glee. "Oh, he''s going to love his accommodations!"

    She skipped alongside Naberiax as they left the Arena.

    As soon as he left the confines of the black stones, Mordred''s senses were overwhelmed by a repulsive and familiar energy, one that he got used to in Blood Valley, and one that he desperately searched for while in the Abyss.

    Mordred ignored the immense agony tearing through his body and focused his vision on a rather familiar sight.

    It stood in the distance, way beyond the massive walls surrounding the mountain that was Lilith''s palace, looming like a massive eye, cracking reality with its swirling whirlpool of darkness that seemed to pull at everything.

    The Tear. His way out of this hell.

    "Beautiful, isn''t it?" Lilith mused, her gaze fixed on the eldritch phenomenon. She giggled. "So close, Mordred. So close to your world. So close to her."

    Lilith skipped ahead and faced Mordred with a sweet smile that sent shivers down his back, even with the pain.

    "That''s why I arranged a room with the best view of the Tear. Just for you!" she exclaimed with delight.

    Naberiax took Mordred to a tower that was more of a massive shard piercing into the crimson sky.

    The ''room'' Lilith had arranged for was nothing more than a medium-sized cell. Barbed shackles hung from black chains embedded in the walls. One side of the cell was a transparent barrier, offering an unobstructed view of the Tear, along with the massive army of daemons gathered at the base, which he hadn''t noticed before.

    Just as Lilith had promised.

    "Do you like it?" the Darkling leaned toward Mordred''s face as Naberiax bound Mordred''s wrist with a spiked shackle, the barbs sinking into his flesh.

    Mordred''s breathing was heavy as he endured the pain, although temporarily lessened was still agonizing.

    Not only is the spike ravaging his body with pure agony, but it is also interfering with his mind, making him incapable of using ardor.

    But despite his horrifying situation, the young Pendragon cracked a painful smile.

    "You�� will never�� have me," he rasped in a hoarse voice between his deep breaths.

    He cried out as the pain intensified, bringing him to his knees, and causing the shackle to pull on his wrist, its spikes tearing into his wrist, elevating his agony.

    "I know," Lilith replied, cupping his head in her hands, her touch freezing his skin.

    "That is why I will subject you to ''processing'' or ''taming''. The Agony Thorn embedded in you will react anytime you even have the thought of defying me in any way."

    Her words, filled with malice, flowed like honey in Mordred''s ears as she continued. "And you''ll never grow numb to its pain. It will be a different agony every time the Thorn activates. I''ll carve your loyalty into you piece by piece."

    "I and my commanders will thoroughly train you and turn you into a cute hunting dog that will tear apart the humans you once called comrades."

    Lilith''s glowing eyes danced with a mad delight and she peered into Mordred''s crimson eyes, still burning with defiance.

    She brought her face closer to his as if leaning in for a kiss. "I''ll erase Iris from your soul, Mordred, and carve myself into what''s left."

    "Even if it takes me centuries. I will make you mine."

 112 Irredeemable Pricks

    Location: The Imperial Palace, Romulus City, Capital of the Ragnarok Empire

    "I will make you mine."

    Merlin frowned and reread the chapter before shutting the app with an exaggerated sigh.

    "��What the heck did I just read?" She sank deeper into the plush cushions of the sofa, staring at the ceiling in disbelief. "The villainess locks up the male lead in the basement so he''ll forget about his true love��the protagonist, who conveniently has amnesia? What was the author smoking?"

    Across from her, Morgan let out a long-suffering sigh.

    "Merlin, it''s a fictional story," she said, rubbing her temples. "I''m sure the author had their reasons."

    Merlin turned, crossing her arms, her crimson eyes narrowing at the Grand Warlock lounging opposite her. "Besides, what are you even doing in my room?"

    "Well, I got bored of reading light novels in my room." Merlin stretched lazily before flashing a smirk. "And I can''t exactly crash into Arthur''s room without him putting Excalibur to my throat."

    She mockingly hovered a hand over her neck. "Not the best experience, I tell you."

    Morgan grimaced. "I don''t even want to know what you did to make Father react that way."

    "The last time he did that was when I suggested killing Mordred at birth," Merlin said offhandedly.

    Morgan stared at her in horror. "Merlin! What is wrong with you?"

    Merlin shrugged. "A lot of things, I''m afraid. Living this long takes its toll."

    Morgan exhaled sharply and conjured a small shard of ice, pressing it to her forehead to soothe the headache forming.

    "You''re unbelievable. No wonder Mordred didn''t like you."

    Merlin smirked. "Not as much as he loathed you."

    She expected a retort, but Morgan just sighed.

    "You''re right. He loathed me." She leaned forward, wringing her hands. "That was one of the last things he ever said to me before he left."

    Her crimson eyes darkened. "I failed as a sister, Merlin. I failed him."

    Merlin remained silent, watching as Morgan''s carefully constructed mask cracked.

    "I was never there for him. I barely acknowledged his existence. I probably never would have if I hadn''t met him that day." She swallowed, eyes distant.

    "That day, he was different. His words shook me��shook the very principles I built my life around."

    Morgan shut her eyes, her voice almost a whisper.

    "When he told me he loathed me, his eyes were filled with a cold hatred I never imagined I''d see from a child." Her hands curled into fists. "His gaze and his words haunt me to this day."

    Silence stretched between them.

    Then Merlin, uncharacteristically quiet, spoke.

    "You had three years."

    Morgan''s head snapped up.

    "You had three years to fix everything. To go to the Shield, to try and mend things with him." Merlin''s eyes gleamed. "But you didn''t."

    Morgan''s breath hitched. "Father didn''t allow us to visit him��"

    "And did that stop your mother? Did that stop Gawain?" Merlin''s voice cut through her excuse like a blade.

    Morgan had no reply.

    "The reason you didn''t visit him wasn''t because of Arthur," Merlin continued. "It was because you were afraid. Afraid to see that look of hatred in his eyes again."

    Morgan clenched her jaw, but Merlin wasn''t finished.

    "You also realized something else, didn''t you? That no matter what you did, it wouldn''t change anything." Merlin leaned in slightly. "You believe you''re beyond redemption."

    Morgan lowered her head, suddenly exhausted despite being well-rested. She let out a bitter chuckle.

    "You see through me too well, Merlin." She met the Grand Warlock''s gaze with tired amusement. "Nothing escapes those cursed eyes of yours."

    Merlin smirked. "Anyone with good intuition could figure you out."

    Morgan''s lips twitched, but her next words were sharper.

    "Then aren''t you just as guilty as I am?"

    Merlin raised an eyebrow.

    Morgan leaned in this time, her voice cool.

    "Wasn''t it because of your visions that Mordred was confined to the Dawn Palace? That he lived his life unloved and unwanted?"

    For the first time, Merlin stilled.

    Then, to Morgan''s surprise, she chuckled.

    "Of course I''m guilty, Morgan." She rested her chin on her palm, eyes dimming. "I''m guilty of many things."

    Something unreadable flickered across her face.

    "My very existence is the greatest violation of this world." Her voice carried no jest��only self-loathing.

    Morgan stared at her before sighing.

    "Father was right," she muttered. "You truly hate yourself."

    Merlin cracked a grin. "Why do you think I keep plucking my eyeballs out?"

    Morgan let out a breathy laugh. "We really are irredeemable pricks, huh?"

    Merlin tilted her head. "I am, but you''re not."

    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

    Morgan frowned. "What do you mean?"

    "You''re trying to befriend Iris Lefay, aren''t you?" Merlin''s smirk returned.

    Morgan blinked before letting out a dry chuckle. "Nothing escapes you, you crafty warlock."

    Merlin just hummed in amusement.

    Morgan exhaled. "Yes, I want to befriend Iris Lefay." Her voice softened. "She''s the one he loved more than anyone in this world." A wistful smile crossed her lips. "Maybe, through her, I''ll understand him better."

    Merlin''s expression darkened slightly.

    "Morgan�� that child has no memories of her time with Mordred."

    "I know," Morgan murmured. "It''s just a foolish hope. But�� there''s no harm in making friends, right?"

    Merlin''s sharp gaze softened, and for once, she smiled sincerely.

    "You''re right."

    A knock on the door broke the moment.

    "Your Highness. May I come in?"

    Morgan straightened, her voice returning to its usual authority.

    "You may enter."

    The sleek double doors of the guest room opened soundlessly, revealing a servant who bowed respectfully.

    "Lady Merlin, it''s time to prepare for the banquet."

    "Already? You guys are freakishly efficient," Merlin remarked, stretching as she stood.

    She turned to Morgan, giving a lazy wave.

    "See you at dinner."

    Morgan watched her go, a contemplative look in her eyes.

    *******

    "You look quite dashing."

    Merlin''s voice carried a teasing lilt as she approached Arthur on their way to the dining hall. She let out a low whistle, her multicolored eyes gleaming with amusement as she openly appraised his attire.

    The High King was clad in a resplendent white suit, its fabric embroidered with intricate black and gold designs that wove patterns of regal sophistication.

    A sleek black turtleneck contrasted sharply beneath, emphasizing the crisp tailoring of his ensemble. His polished black leather shoes bore golden embellishments, catching the ambient light with each step.

    Draped over his shoulders was a long, elegant gray overcoat, its fine fabric shifting subtly with his movements, adding an effortless air of authority.

    His eyes narrowed as Merlin drew closer.

    "I am relieved to see that you finally had the sense to work on your appearance," he said, his cold voice pricking at her like tiny needles of ice.

    Merlin smirked, unfazed. "Well, even I know when I should look good."

    She adjusted the cuffs of her tailored ensemble��a striking fusion of a suit and gown. A fitted black vest hugged her petite frame, fastened with silver buttons over a high-collared white shirt.

    Flowing coattails, split at the back like a dress, cascaded down to her calves, their dark fabric subtly shimmering as she moved.

    Slim black trousers and polished ankle boots completed the look, adding a touch of effortless charm to her natural elegance.

    "What do you think?" she asked, twirling playfully.

    Arthur merely scoffed. "Not bad. It seems you do have some taste in fashion."

    He glanced at his watch, the exposed mechanisms behind the transparent casing reflecting faintly in his eyes.

    "It''s almost time. Morgan should be here by now."

    As if summoned by his words, a familiar voice drifted toward them.

    "I am here, Father. Hopefully, I am not late."

    Morgan strode toward them with the measured grace of royalty, her presence commanding without effort.

    Her attire reflected that same poise and precision��a black long coat adorned with delicate silver embroidery tracing intricate patterns along the high collar and cuffs.

    The coat cinched at the waist, emphasizing her athletic frame before flaring subtly at the hem, its deep crimson lining offering a striking contrast with each step.

    Beneath the coat, she wore a midnight-blue silk blouse, its delicate shimmer catching the soft glow of the hallway.

    Fitted black trousers flared slightly at the ankles, seamlessly meeting stiletto boots adorned with subtle gold and crimson accents.

    Black snowflake-shaped earrings dangled from her ears, a quiet yet striking detail. A touch of dark eyeshadow sharpened the edges of her crimson eyes, making them all the more piercing.

    Merlin found herself momentarily staring. The cold beauty of the Crown Princess was unmistakable��a perfect blend of Arthur''s sharpness and Guinevere''s grace.

    "Goodness, Morgan. How are you still single?"

    Merlin''s teasing voice broke the silence as she appraised the Crown Princess with exaggerated admiration.

    A faint flush bloomed on Morgan''s cheeks��whether from embarrassment or the subtle rouge in her makeup, Merlin couldn''t tell.

    Still, it was a rare sight. Seeing the ever-composed Morgan Pendragon flustered was something she never thought she''d witness.

    "I''m not single!" Morgan retorted, a little too quickly.

    Silence settled over the hallway. Arthur arched a brow, his sharp gaze assessing his daughter.

    "That is news," he mused. "Who is this individual who managed to steal the heart of the Ice Princess?"

    Morgan fidgeted under his scrutiny before shifting her gaze to Merlin, who only responded with an amused shrug.

    With a sigh, she straightened her posture and met Arthur''s gaze. "His name is Accolon."

    Merlin blinked. "Accolon? That young spitfire who challenged you to a duel?"

    Morgan nodded, regaining her composure. "I�� fell for him."

    Her voice was steady, but her fingers curled slightly at her sides as she awaited Arthur''s reaction.

    To her surprise, his expression softened. "Morgan. It''s fine. I''m okay with it, as long as you''re happy. If there is anything you need, I''ll be there for you."

    Morgan''s breath hitched. For a moment, warmth spread through her chest.

    But before she could bask in it, an image of Mordred flashed through her mind.

    This��this moment, this acceptance she receives from her father��was something he never had.

    The realization dulled the warmth, replacing it with a quiet ache. She didn''t let it show, but the weight of her guilt pressed down on her, heavy and unrelenting.

    She had buried it deep, but it was always there, gnawing at the edges of her conscience.

    Still, she made a silent vow.

    If by some impossible miracle Mordred returned, she would do whatever it took to fix her mistake.

    If he never forgave her, so be it. If his hatred still burned, she would bear it. If he wanted her out of his life, she would accept it, no matter how much it hurt.

    That would be her punishment.

    Shaking the thoughts away, she refocused on the present.

    "Thinking of a date with Accolon now that Arthur''s given the green light?" Merlin''s smirking face appeared in her peripheral vision, her tone dripping with mischief.

    Morgan rolled her eyes but had no chance to respond as a servant approached, bowing respectfully.

    "Your Majesty, Your Highness, and Lady Merlin. Greetings. The Emperor is awaiting you in the dining hall."

    Merlin blinked. "That maniac is early? Now that''s a phenomenon."

    "Merlin." Arthur''s tone carried a warning edge.

    Unbothered, Merlin shrugged. "Just saying."

    Arthur ignored her and turned back to the servant. "Has the Saintess arrived as well?"

    "Yes, Your Majesty. She has just arrived and is being guided to the dining hall as we speak."

    Arthur nodded. "Very well. Lead the way."

    As they followed the servant, Merlin sidled up beside Morgan, grinning. "Nervous?"

    Morgan raised an eyebrow. "Why should I be?"

    "Well, you''ll be having dinner with the most powerful individuals on the planet."

    Morgan gave her an unimpressed look. "I am the daughter of High King Arthur Pendragon and the Crown Princess of this kingdom. Meeting the other Crowns is part of my duty."

    Merlin chuckled at her confidence. "Fair point."

    She cast a glance toward the grand doors ahead, an amused gleam in her eyes.

    "This is going to be one interesting meal."

 113 A Meeting Of Crowns

    "Hey there, Pendragon. It''s been some time."

    A tall man with striking golden eyes and tanned skin greeted them as the servant ushered Arthur, Merlin, and Morgan into the dining hall.

    The High King nodded at the man. "It has been some time, Nero."

    Emperor Nero Ragnarok grinned and strode forward, his long azure hair swept back neatly, save for a single blue strand on the side of his face.

    He wore a dark navy blue suit that shimmered slightly under the soft light of the intricate chandelier hanging from the ceiling of the ornate and modern dining hall.

    Silver embroidery adorned his jacket, intertwining into ornate designs on his shoulders and cuffs. Beneath the jacket, he wore a matte black shirt, unbuttoned at the collar, displaying the sleek platinum chain hanging from his neck.

    A long coat, similar to Arthur''s, was draped across his shoulder, except Nero''s was a deep midnight blue that shimmered like ink, and his black leather shoes with silver accents gleamed with polished perfection.

    Two rings containing two different types of rare stones decorated the elegant fingers of his right hand, and a golden earring shaped like a spear point dangled from his left ear.

    His presence filled the dining room and caused the very air to ripple, a sign of his position as the ruler of the Ragnarok Empire and as a Crown, one of the three official X-rankers in Asteris.

    "You look rather haggard," Nero remarked, his eyes sparkling with mischief, and he extended his hand to Arthur. "Managing a huge nation is taking its toll on you, my friend."

    Arthur clasped his hand firmly. "I see you''ve remained as insufferably observant as ever."

    Nero laughed. "What can I say? I am that good."

    He then turned to Merlin with a mischievous smirk. "I see that our little warlock has grown a bit. What happened, Merlin? Tired of being a teen celebrating her sweet sixteen?"

    Merlin smirked back. "Not exactly. Nero. I realized I looked quite beautiful as a nineteen-year-old."

    "Well, I must say you were quite right in that," the Emperor remarked, and his attention turned to Morgan, who slightly flinched under his piercing golden gaze.

    She felt an aura radiating off him, similar to her father''s, an overwhelming and powerful presence that filled the space and was just as chilling as Merlin''s peculiar constantly fluctuating, and sometimes nonexistent aura.

    "Crown Princess Morgan. Nice to meet you. You look quite lovely in that outfit," Nero greeted her with a warm smile, his eyes glinting like polished gold.

    Morgan curtseyed before the Emperor and addressed him respectfully. "It is an honor to meet you, Emperor Nero."

    Nero chuckled and looked at Arthur. "Your daughter is more polite than you are, Pendragon."

    Arthur gave a small smile that betrayed his cold eyes. "Her mother taught her well."

    "Indeed." Nero nodded in agreement and tilted his head. "I see that Guinevere didn''t come with you this time."

    He narrowed his eyes. "Is she still mad at you?"

    Arthur closed his eyes and shook his head. "She has another meeting to attend to. As High Queen, she is sometimes busier than I am."

    Nero arched his eyebrows, definitely not believing it. "Right. It had nothing to do with the death of your son, eh?"

    Arthur''s eyes glinted dangerously. "I am telling you, he is not dead."

    "Let the child rest," Nero said softly. "You ignored his existence while he was alive. Don''t dishonor him by refusing to accept his death."

    He looked at Morgan with an apologetic smile. "No disrespect, Crown Princess, but your dad can be a lousy father at times."

    Merlin chuckled. "Well, there is no denying that."

    Morgan didn''t know how to react, so she glanced at her father. His face was unreadable.

    His lips curled into a smile as if he enjoyed the remark made by the Emperor.

    "Speaking of lousy fathers��" he tilted his head. "How is the search for your daughter, Nero?"

    "Going quite well," Nero replied with a dangerous glint in his eyes as well. "My best trackers are doing their best to find her."

    "You have my full support in the search. I could mobilize the best tracker in the Knights of the Round to help you," Arthur offered with a smirk.

    Nero''s eye twitched, and the air began to tremble as he spoke. "Are you saying that my trackers are not good enough?"

    Arthur shook his head. "On the contrary, I am saying that your daughter covered her tracks quite well, so much so that your trackers are still searching despite the passing of a whole year."

    "And you are saying that your best tracker can find her?" Nero asked with narrowed eyes.

    "She would have a better chance, but it would largely depend on whether the Imperial Princess wishes to be found or not," Arthur replied cooly and shook his head.

    "And can I blame her? When a tremendous power is thrust into their arms, isn''t it natural to be overwhelmed and do something drastic like running away from home?"

    The air began to crackle, and a terrifying aura descended on the room, shaking the very palace to its foundations.

    Nero''s voice was like a sheathed blade, ready to slice. "I see you are still as infuriating as ever. Arthur."

    The High King stared back at the Emperor with an equally terrifying gaze. "And you are still as insufferable as ever."

    "How about we have a go at each other before dinner?" Nero suggested in a deadly tone, a crackling golden glow surrounding him. The entire room trembled under the pressure of his aura.

    Arthur''s eyes glowed, and a terrifying bloodlust that matched Nero''s emanated from him, his own aura clashing with that of his fellow Crown.

    The temperature in the room plummeted, and an oppressive pressure filled the air, making the very act of breathing a difficult task.

    Alarms began to blare all around them. The lights flickered, and cracks began to appear in the walls.

    Morgan was completely overwhelmed. Despite being an S-ranker, her body refused to move. Her limbs felt like lead, paralyzed by the sheer intensity of the auras surrounding her.

    Every instinct screamed at her to flee, yet she stood frozen, helpless against the onslaught of power radiating from these two monsters.

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    Her eyes darted desperately to Merlin. Surprisingly, she remained unaffected, her expression one of amusement, even eagerness, as though she was watching an exciting drama unfold.

    The alarms continued to blare, and Morgan could hear the pounding of boots outside the room as palace guards rushed to their location, though she wondered what they could even do if two X-rankers started fighting.

    She could already imagine the pandemonium outside the palace walls as ardor sensors all over the world went absolutely mental, broadcasting the terrifying news all over Asteris.

    A clash between X rankers is cataclysmic. Like a battle between Incarni, unleashing massive amounts of energy and untold destruction that could reshape the very landscape.

    The only reason why the dining hall they''re in didn''t collapse or straight up disintegrate is because of the unique and enhanced construction of the entire palace, making it quite robust against the power of an X-ranker.

    But even it cannot handle the power released by the clash of two X-rankers.

    Morgan clenched her fists, her breathing shallow and rapid, trying her hardest not to succumb to the monstrous pressure while Merlin, the only one who could stop them, was doing diddly squat, standing there with her usual mischievous smirk.

    Just as it seemed to Morgan that her father was about to pull out Excalibur, an equally powerful aura washed over them like a gust of wind, cutting through the storm of power.

    "That''s enough." The voice was soft, yet the power in those words was unmistakable.

    At the entrance stood a young woman who appeared no older than nineteen, her calm expression radiating an air of quiet authority.

    Her long, wavy auburn hair caught the flickering light as it transitioned to a bright golden hue, cascading down her back, glowing faintly like her fair skin with the power of Lux.

    Her sky-blue eyes, calm and unwavering, glittered like sapphires and swept over the scene with a calm confidence.

    Like the monarchs, the very air seemed to hum with her arrival, a low, comforting vibration that resonated deep within the soul.

    Morgan recognized her immediately. Only one other human in existence could stand on the same level as her father and Emperor Nero.

    Joan O Arc, the Saintess of the Order of Lux, and the third Crown of Asteris.

    Morgan wondered. She is called the ultimate genius in the Kingdom, and yet this girl younger than her is far more powerful.

    She watched in awe as Joan entered the room, each step soft yet deliberate, exuding an effortless grace that belied the immense power she wielded.

    At just nineteen, she had already carved her name into history as the youngest X-ranker ever recorded, a living legend.

    Once hidden from the world as the Order''s secret weapon, her existence was revealed only after the brutal murder of her predecessor and guardian at the hands of the infamous Vanis Hectus.

    Joan is known far and wide for her radiant kindness, and she possesses a bright, infectious energy, the kind that makes it impossible not to smile in her presence.

    Yet behind this well of kindness and warmth is an unbreakable will strengthened by her experiences, along with a ruthlessness that was as cold as her radiant warmth and kindness.

    The white suit she wore was a reflection of herself, a masterpiece of refined elegance. The tailored jacket fit her slim frame perfectly, with gold and silver embroidery tracing intricate patterns along the edges of her lapels and cuffs.

    Beneath the jacket, she wore a white shirt of the purest silk with subtle silver patterns that almost glowed.

    Her pristine white pants hugged her long legs and ended just above her white boots, which were embroidered with golden vines that spiraled around the ankles.

    A golden brooch shaped like a four-pointed star with light rays radiating from it and surrounded by a ring of flames was pinned to her jacket, the symbol of the Order of Lux.

    Flanking her on either side were two paladins in their signature sleek white battle outfits, a fusion of formal attire and futuristic armor. Their faces are hidden behind white and silver full-faced visor masks.

    Joan walked toward Arthur and Nero, her aura subtly yet powerfully pressing against theirs, causing the two monarchs to suppress their own power.

    "Let''s not test the durability of the Emperor''s palace, gentlemen," she said with a smile, her voice gentle but commanding.

    Arthur looked at her, his gaze piercing. "You have a thing for timing, Saintess."

    Joan laughed, her voice like a sparkling stream. "You flatter me, Your Majesty."

    She turned to Nero and bowed her head. "Thank you, Emperor, for agreeing to host this dinner between the constant search for the princess. I hope you will quickly find her, and I''ll be happy to assist you if you need it."

    Nero nodded with a smile. "Polite as always, Joan." He glanced at Arthur. "That is how you offer help."

    The High King shrugged. "I have my way of speaking, and she has hers."

    Joan''s eyes gleamed as she turned to Merlin. "I see you''re still mischievous as ever, Lady Merlin."

    She strode over, and they shook hands. "I guess we''re both the same age," she chuckled.

    Merlin smiled back. "Well, I realized people don''t actually take a sixteen-year-old seriously. Being older is much better."

    "Indeed." Joan grinned. "I look forward to your classes."

    "With your genius, you''ll breeze through them," Merlin replied with a chuckle.

    Nero raised his eyebrows. "Ah. I''ve heard that you''ll be attending Avalon this year."

    Joan nodded. "Yes, your Majesty. Lady Merlin was kind enough to let me enroll."

    She turned to Arthur. "I should thank you as well, your Majesty, since Merlin is your aide."

    Arthur waved his hand dismissively. "Don''t thank me, Saintess. Avalon is an independent organization. The Kingdom has a mutualistic relationship with them, just like every other nation in Asteris."

    Nero laughed. "Yeah. An independent organization whose head just happens to be your best friend."

    Ignoring the obvious jab, Arthur looked at Joan. "I am curious, though. You are already a powerful warlock, and you were the top student at the Order''s academy. Why attend Avalon Academy?"

    "It''s true that I am a graduate of the Order''s academy," Joan agreed, clasping her hands behind her back. "But it was a training academy for paladins."

    She looked at Merlin. "Avalon is more diverse with a far more reservoir of information and knowledge about the world. I could have a proper academic life and learn a lot more things."

    Merlin puffed out her chest with a smug smile. "And you will, Saintess! I assure you. You will experience the best academy arc of your life!"

    Joan laughed. "Thank you, Lady Merlin."

    Her attention then turned to Morgan, who was still reeling from the clash of auras. Joan''s face brightened, and she rushed over and enveloped Morgan in an embrace.

    "Morgan! It is so good to see you again!"

    Morgan, snapping out of her daze, blinked in surprise but quickly returned the hug. "Me too. Your Holiness."

    "Your Holiness?" Joan pouted. "I told you to call me by my name, like how I''m calling you by yours."

    Morgan stammered. "But you''re the Saintess, and I''m just��"

    Joan silenced her with a grin and hugged her again. "Not important. Friends first."

    "I missed hanging out with you."

    Morgan was taken aback by this sudden show of affection from the Saintess. Though flustered, the warmth of Joan''s embrace grounded her, helping to ease the tension that lingered in her chest.

    She smiled. "Me too, Joan."

    Morgan''s mind drifted briefly to the day of Mordred''s funeral, the first time she had met the Saintess.

    Joan attended the funeral of her own volition, even going so far as to ask the High Queen for permission.

    That day, Morgan had remained in her room, unsure whether she should attend the funeral at all, given her complicated past with Mordred.

    That was when Joan accidentally stumbled into her room. What followed was an unexpected but heartfelt conversation with the Saintess.

    Sometimes, Morgan wondered if it was her mother''s doing or simply Joan''s kind and empathetic nature that led to that moment, but by the time she left, Morgan had become good friends with her.

    Joan''s voice pulled her back to the present. "I see that you are still being haunted by your guilt, Morgan," she said gently, her eyes filled with understanding.

    "If you want to talk. I''ll be here to listen."

    Patting Morgan''s shoulder, she said, "Let''s enjoy dinner, shall we?"

    Turning around, she looked at Nero, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Well, Emperor Nero. What is the menu for tonight?"

    Nero''s lips turned into a smile that screamed trouble. "The finest Ragnarok can offer, Saintess."

    He turned to Arthur with a playful glint in his eyes. "I hope you are not too picky, my friend."

    The High King gave a nonchalant shrug. "I have tasted the cuisine of your homeland. You can''t surprise me."

    Nero laughed. "Oh, you''re in for a treat!"

    Merlin smirked, her multicolored eyes shimmering with excitement. "Let''s hope no one blows up the palace before dessert."

    She nudged Morgan gently."You must be hungry after all that drama, Morgan. Let''s eat."

 114 The Londonix Butcher

    Location: Londonix Duchy, The Kingdom.

    The twin moons, Orionis and Galadria, dominated the night sky, hovering over the land like celestial sentries, watching over everything basked by their light.

    Their combined moonlight streamed through the windows of Francis Tumblety''s high-rise suite, bouncing off his gold watch and making it glitter.

    His hands shook as he clasped his glass, the smooth, clear spherical ice in the glass clinking as he took a shaky sip of the amber liquid.

    Despite the precise climate control in the suite, he was sweating profusely. The ends of his rather magnificent mustache, which he always maintained carefully, were now frayed from nervous chewing.

    The living room of his suite was lavishly decorated with artifacts from all over the world, but they were not your typical souvenirs.

    Ancient apothecary jars covered in arcane symbols stood on oddly shaped desks, and taxidermied ardimals were mounted on the walls, their creepy beady eyes reflecting the moonlight streaming through the windows.

    Multicolored crystals and crystal balls glowed from their display stands, their distorted light shimmering over the ceiling and walls.

    Framed certificates and awards dominated one portion of the living room wall, their contents faker than the glowing arlants allegedly taken from the floating landmass of Jotunis, home of the giants.

    But any sane person would wish that some of the more garish and grotesque decorations were fake, like the long and pointed ears of an elf, perfectly preserved in a cylindrical glass case, or the huge and magnificent wings of a fairy, their intricate veins faintly glowing from residual ardor amidst the translucent membrane.

    The most horrifying thing in his suite, however, was cleverly hidden behind a massive bookshelf spanning an entire wall.

    With a touch of ardor, the mechanism would activate, sliding the bookshelf apart to reveal a hidden shelf containing his grotesque collection.

    Arranged methodically in glass containers were what he considered his trophies. Human organs, with nearly half consisting of the uteruses of women he had ''treated.''

    Tonight, he had put his disturbing collection on full display, certain that this would be the last time he''d see them.

    "You have a disturbing hobby, Doctor."

    The masked man in the pinstriped suit sat across from him, his voice neutral but edged with something unreadable.

    Francis Tumblety shot him a glare. "I hired you and your men to protect me, not to judge me."

    Despite his sharp words, his voice quivered with nervousness and something more primal.

    Fear.

    The mercenary leader leaned forward, picking up on the underlying fear. "No need to be so nervous, Doctor. My men are highly trained A-rankers with a high mission completion rate."

    He spoke with calm confidence. "The Royal Police and that detective are a force to be reckoned with, but they stand no chance against us."

    He straightened his tie. "It doesn''t matter who you are, whether a lowly murderer or an Axial Family member. We''ll take the job as long as the price is right."

    Tumblety swallowed, taking another shaky sip of his drink. The liquid barely made it past his lips before he placed the glass back down, his fingers trembling.

    "It is not the detective or the authorities I am worried about."

    He stood up and went over to pour himself another drink, though his unsteady hands spilled more on the counter than into the glass.

    "It is the one they asked for help."

    He brought the dripping glass to his lips, but he didn''t drink. Instead, he placed it forcefully on the counter, cracking the rim.

    "Nothing will stop her," he said, turning around to the mercenary.

    The mercenary merely scoffed. "You mean the bastard child of Adrian Karsus? The one they call the Blackrose Knight?"

    Tumblety didn''t say it, but his silence spoke volumes.

    The masked man chuckled. "I know she''s an S-rank, but she is a novice in that realm of power while my men are A-ranked mercenaries."

    He waved a hand dismissively. "Even if she is an S rank, she will have a really hard time getting to you."

    Tumblety grunted. "That''s why I am paying you."

    "Then I guess you''re just wasting your money, Francis," a female voice spoke out of nowhere.

    Both men froze in their place, and a terrifying chill went down their spines as they registered the words of the voice.

    Fear gripped Tumblety, paralyzing his body as his eyes darted toward his precious collection. The soft illumination of the shelf outlined the silhouette of a figure standing before it.

    Her long black hair cascaded down her back, almost blending into the dark fabric of her coat before transitioning into a bright blue that glowed faintly.

    The soft ceiling light and the illumination from his collection cast a glow over her fair face, her bright blue eyes fixed on his trophies as if she were admiring an art exhibit.

    Wisps of darkness curled around her figure, rising and falling like tendrils of living shadow.

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    She wore a black turtleneck, blue jeans, and sleek black-heeled boots, her movements effortless and composed.

    The piercings on her ears glinted as she turned, her bright blue eyes meeting his.

    Tumblety could not move.

    Her gaze locked onto his, and in that instant, fear crushed him like an unseen force pressing against his chest.

    "Quite the collection you have here, Francis," her voice, casual and playful, coiled around his neck like a venomous serpent, its fangs ready to sink into his flesh.

    A powerful gust of wind whipped into the room, and in an instant, the masked mercenary was right behind the young woman, his dagger slicing through the air toward her head.

    Only to find himself frozen mid-strike.

    Thin black threads of ardor wrapped around his limbs, suspending him in place like a marionette.

    Yet he was unfazed.

    "Dame Iris Lefay. You''re quite far from Blackrose Island," he said, testing the threads with a surge of his own power, but they didn''t budge.

    Iris glanced back at him, her blue eyes glowing softly. "Just helping out a friend."

    She tilted her head, looking amused. "The Mercenary Guild of the Syndicate, I presume? I didn''t know you guys to stoop so low as to protect the Londonix Butcher."

    "We don''t care about the identities of our clients or what they did," the masked mercenary replied, voice steady and professional. "Doctor Tumblety paid us to protect him, so we will protect him."

    Iris smirked. "Professional. I like that." She folded her arms. "Perhaps I should consider your services in the future."

    "We''ll be happy to do so." His tone darkened. "But I must inquire. How did you get in? This building has strict security. With my men posted, an intruder getting inside should have been impossible."

    His voice turned sharp. "What did you do to them?"

    Iris''s blue eyes danced with mischief. "Relax. I only knocked them out."

    A powerful force slammed into the mercenary, hurling him backward. He crashed into the wall, shattering the fake certificates as rubble and debris rained down.

    "I don''t kill people willy-nilly," she said lightly, brushing dust off her sleeve. "Unlike a certain someone."

    Her gaze shifted to Tumblety.

    The doctor flinched as her glowing eyes locked onto him. He struggled to breathe, his chest rising and falling in panicked gasps.

    "I''ve got to say, Francis." Her voice coiled around him like a noose. "You really made fools out of the Londonix police, enough that they had to call in the Royal Police and my overworked friend."

    Tumblety''s knees trembled.

    The weight of Iris''s gaze alone was suffocating, but it was the way she looked at him, casually, almost amused, that sent ice crawling down his spine.

    He tried to gather his thoughts, tried to speak. "H-how can you accuse me of being the Londonix B-butcher? W-where is your evidence?"

    "Oh, we have plenty of evidence," Iris sighed dramatically, gesturing at his ''trophies''. "Looks like overtime for the Forensics."

    Her tone hardened. "And even if we ignore your disgusting and depraved hobby, you''ll still be arrested for these."

    She pointed at the fairy wings and Elven ears.

    Iris took a slow step forward, the air itself thickening with tension. "The wings of a fairy are sacred. Vital to them. And you?"

    "You dare defile them by displaying them like a showpiece?"

    The room trembled as Iris''s aura pressed down on Tumblety, bringing him down to his knees.

    The medicine jars shattered, and the suite windows cracked as her aura intensified.

    "Please! I''ll do anything!" He squealed, his face contorted in terror as he struggled against the immense pressure

    He tried to resist, tried to push back with his own aura��but what was a mere intermediate B-ranker against an S-rank?

    The suffocating aura immediately dispersed, and the smell of urine wafted up Tumblety''s nose as he raised his head to see Iris looking down at him, her azure gaze piercing into him.

    "You''ll do anything?" Her lips curled into a sadistic smile, and for a second, insanity flashed in her eyes.

    "Then can you die like your victims?"

    Tumblety froze at those words.

    Images of his victims swarmed his mind, faces twisted in agony, eyes pleading, mouths frozen mid-scream.

    Their voices flooded his skull, shrieking, crying, cursing him.

    His breathing turned heavy, and his body refused to move a muscle due to how much he was trembling.

    "Pathetic."

    That single word hit him like a blow to the chest.

    She loomed over him. "This? This is the Londonix Butcher who terrorized the Duchy?"

    Her laugh was soft, cruel.

    "I expected a monster who reveled in his own depravity. Not a sniveling quack."

    Each step she took sent fresh waves of fear and panic crawling up his spine.

    If only he had an opening.

    Just as he was about to succumb to his despair, he heard the sound of movement.

    The rubble near the shattered wall exploded. Concrete and marble fragments rained down as the mercenary rose from the wreckage, his suit torn, blood dripping from his lip.

    A vortex of sharply spinning air currents surrounded his dagger, slicing into the marble floor as he rushed at Iris.

    "Run, Doctor!" he yelled, aiming at her torso.

    Iris barely spared him a glance as black appendages of darkness unfurled from her back and shot toward her attacker faster than thought.

    In an instant, he was pinned to the massive bookshelf, his limbs pierced by the black appendages.

    He gritted his teeth as the pain radiated all over his body and his mind swirled with his thoughts.

    Didn''t she just become an S-ranker, and also, didn''t she lose her memories of being a Deathwalker?

    Could it be that she recovered them?

    No. That doesn''t seem to be the case.

    If it were, she would''ve slaughtered him and his men already, bathing the entire building with their blood.

    Such was the brutality of a Deathwalker.

    If she is this strong without her memories��

    He shuddered at the thought of Iris Lefay regaining her memories.

    "You stay put, my friend," Iris said, her glowing blue eyes locked onto him. "I don''t want to kill you and get the Syndicate on my tail."

    "Then�� you have nothing to worry about. My contract is with the doctor. If I die, it''ll be on duty. My death won''t be used against you," the mercenary managed between heavy breaths.

    Before Iris could respond, the sound of shattering glass brought her attention to Tumblety, except he wasn''t there.

    The hole on the massive suite window stood open, shards of glass glinting in the night air.

    "That little weasel jumped out of the bloody window," she muttered, almost impressed by the sheer audacity of her prey.

    She let out a breath.

    "This is going to be annoying."

 115 How To Kill A Serial Killer

    [Iris Lefay]

    My phone rang, and I immediately knew who it was.

    With a sigh, I answered it. "Wrong time to deactivate your stigma, Freddie. You could''ve followed him."

    "Oh, shut it, Lefay. You know my limits," my detective friend grumbled on the other end, then paused. "Can you still catch him?"

    I glanced at the man-sized hole in the window, then at the mercenary pinned to the bookshelf like a macabre decoration.

    "Yeah," I shrugged, already stepping toward the window. "You better bring the whole squad. Francis hired some protection from the Syndicate."

    A torrent of rather colorful and creative profanity was the only response I got.

    "Of course, that gutter-wanking quack excuse of a healer involved the bloody Syndicate," he spat after calming down.

    I winced. I forgot this guy can cuss like a sailor when riled up.

    "You seem rather miffed," I muttered, absently wondering if I could use my strand to cleanse my ears.

    "Of course I am!" he snapped. "That slimy little gremlin put me on a wild goose chase after making fools of the entire Londonix Police. He left no trace, and I had to start from literally nothing! You know how many sleepless nights I endured for this day?"

    I let out a sigh. "I know. Freddie. Where are you?"

    "Coming in on the building. Now that he''s escaped, I''m sending out officers to cut him off."

    I turned my gaze back to Tumblety''s twisted collection, bile rising in my throat.

    The thought of that slimy creature behind bars, or worse, slipping away, churned my stomach.

    "Tell your boys to hurry up, Freddie," I growled. "I have a feeling that Francis might not make it tonight."

    There was a long silence on the other end. Then, his voice lowered. "Lefay. Don''t do it. I need him for questioning."

    A slow smile stretched across my lips. "Then you better get to him first."

    "Damn it, Iris! Don''t��"

    I hung up before he could finish and turned to the mercenary, still pinned to the bookshelf.

    "Well," I sighed, offering him an almost apologetic smile. "I can''t have you trailing me while I hunt down Francis."

    "What��?" was all he managed before the black appendages twisted around his legs, snapping his knees with a sickening crack, and he howled in pain.

    He slumped against the bookshelf, panting. "That was�� a good move."

    "Yeah, sorry about that," I muttered. "But don''t worry��the police will be here soon. Since you''re of the Syndicate, under contract, and just doing your job, they''ll probably go easy on you. Might even heal you up."

    "Well, as for what will happen when you return to the Mercenary Guild��" I shrugged. "I guess that''s up to you."

    He gave a bitter chuckle, too pained to respond properly.

    I let him drop to the floor. "I have given you courtesy enough."

    I turned toward the broken window, my gaze drifting toward the city''s skyline, a sea of colorful lights stretching endlessly beneath the twin moons, Orionis and Galadria.

    Whenever I looked up at them, I felt a strange fluttering in my heart and a slight tingle on my lips.

    It was as if my body remembers something significant that happened to me underneath the celestial gazes of Orionis and Galadria, something buried deep in my lost memories that, despite everything I tried, I couldn''t find them.

    Not the time for this. I shook off the feeling and refocused.

    My gaze dropped to the street below. I half-expected to see a crowd gathering around Tumblety''s broken body sprawled in a pool of blood.

    Well. I saw blood. But no dead serial killer.

    A grin tugged at the corner of my lips, a sudden surge of exhilaration flooding through me.

    Without hesitation, I stepped off the ledge and let gravity take me. The wind rushed past, and the lights smeared into streaks of color as I fell toward the glowing city below.

    "Time to kill a serial killer."

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    *******

    Francis Tumblety was running for his life.

    Blood streamed from a gash on his head, blurring his vision as sweat stung his eyes. His left arm dangled limp and useless at his side, possibly dislocated or worse, broken.

    Every step was agony as he limped along on his mangled left leg, barely holding himself upright.

    Although he was an intermediate B ranker, his ardor reinforcement was strong enough to prevent him from dying upon impact.

    Many people rushed over as soon as he hit the ground, but he quickly hid his presence using his stigma before they could do anything.

    Observer''s Blindness.

    To the unknowing eye, he simply ceased to exist. A bloodied ghost limping through the streets, unseen.

    But his escape route was marked for those actively searching for him��a faint smoky trail, visible only to his pursuer.

    And for someone powerful like her, that faint trail might as well be a burning arrow pointing right at his throat.

    The only reason he activated it was to prevent anyone from taking notice of him as he dragged his broken body towards the outer edges of Londonix City.

    After all, a bloodied and limping man would surely raise a lot of eyebrows.

    His breath trembled, and pain racked his body as he hobbled desperately, trying to leave the city while his stigma, one that hid him from his victims, was leading his executioner right to him.

    He gritted his teeth. Where did it all go wrong? He left no trace, and yet the detective from Camelot found him.

    And now the Blackrose Knight, who was said to be a Deathwalker, is hunting him.

    I must leave the city. I could hide in one of the towns on the outskirts of the Duchy.

    The thought of survival propelled him forward, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

    He turned sharply into a dark alleyway, where the city''s neon brilliance faded into suffocating black. It was a hidden pathway leading to the outside of the city.

    The surrounding shadows seemed to enlarge with each agonizing step he took, their haunting forms creeping up on him.

    The walls loomed higher than he remembered. The passage felt tighter, as though the very architecture was shifting, funneling him deeper into the intricate belly of the city.

    Then he heard it.

    A flutter of wings was followed by a sudden gust of wind above him.

    A soft cry echoed overhead, like a bird.

    But the cry was odd.

    It sounded�� artificial.

    Tumblety halted in his tracks, a sharp chill creeping up his spine. Slowly, he tilted his head upward.

    Perched on one of the handrails, its silver feathers glinting in the light of the twin moons, was a mechanima in the form of a falcon.

    Its jeweled blue eyes glowed eerily as if it were alive, and it looked down at him with morbid curiosity.

    The wind shifted as it flexed its silver serrated talons, deep in the metal.

    Tumblety''s heart hammered in his chest. He had heard of a silver mechanima belonging to Iris Lefay, which always accompanied her as her eyes in the sky.

    It was considered a harbinger. Wherever the silver falcon perched, the Blackrose Knight followed.

    Tumblety never believed in stories like that, but now that he was staring into the glowing blue eyes of the mechanima, he only prayed that it wasn''t true.

    Then he heard her.

    "Going somewhere, Francis?"

    Her voice, playful and innocent, slithered through the darkness, echoing all around him.

    His breath trembled, and his body refused to move.

    Another voice, softer this time, spoke beside him. "So this is how you approached your victims, Francis. Hiding in the shadows, waiting with your filthy little dagger, ready to end their lives?"

    He felt her presence beside him as she whispered in his ear. "I must say, this is rather entertaining."

    He whipped his head but found nothing. Only darkness.

    Iris''s soft and playful laughter filled the alley. "Oh, that is so funny! You should see the look on your face!"

    Another shift in the corner of his eye caught his attention. But there was nothing there as well.

    "But I must admit. You are quite a professional. A clean, brutal slash across the throat before opening them up to collect your vile trophies."

    The way she spoke of his methods twisted Tumblety''s stomach. His breathing hitched, and his pulse thundered in his ears as his executioner giggled like an excited child.

    Suddenly, he saw a flash of black, too fast for the eye to comprehend. A sharp and agonizing pain erupted from his right side.

    Blood flowed like a waterfall, and he fell to the ground, screaming as his severed right arm landed right beside him with a wet thud.

    Her voice spoke again, amused and merciless. "Isn''t this your second modus operandi? To chop off the limbs and heads of some of your victims?"

    She sighed in mock admiration. "A clever method to confuse the police. The Londonix police were sure there were two killers when in reality there was only one: you."

    "You really made fools out of the formidable Londonix police!" her delighted laughter dug into his neck like the grim reaper''s scythe.

    Another flash of black and Tumblety''s left arm joined his right. As he lay screaming in a pool of blood, the laughter suddenly stopped.

    "Eleven."

    The shadows on the walls warped, and Iris Lefay emerged

    Her blue eyes glowed like twin specters. Wisps of darkness coiled from her coat like living creatures, flickering hungrily in the air around her.

    She looked down at him, her face devoid of amusement and her glowing eyes stone cold.

    "That''s how many innocent women you killed and mutilated, Tumblety." Her tone was no longer playful. It was low and terrifyingly cold as ice.

    Tumblety managed between his heavy, painful wheezing. "You�� you can''t�� kill me�� The Royal Police�� they want me alive��"

    Iris tilted her head, considering his words. "That''s true. Freddie wants you alive for questioning. But��"

    Her lips curled into a slow, wicked smile. "My contract states to get you dead or alive."

    A wave of terrifying Bloodlust swept over Francis Tumblety, suffocating him and enveloping his heart and mind in absolute terror.

    Black barbed appendages of pure darkness unfurled from behind Iris like some ancient monster ready to devour his very soul.

    In the blink of an eye, they pierced deep into his body, avoiding all the vital areas but elevating his agony as they slowly twisted into his body.

    Pain unlike anything he had ever felt flooded his nerves. His body convulsed, spasming in violent, involuntary twitches as the barbs twisted deeper, writhing like serrated needles inside his flesh.

    A black appendage immediately wrapped around his mouth, muffling his screams as the appendages piercing his convulsing body lifted him in the air.

    His vision dimmed as his terrified eyes fell on the Blackrose Knight, who took another step, lowering herself until her glowing eyes were level with his.

    Her curled lips parted to say the last words he would ever hear.

    "Unfortunately for you, Dr. Francis Tumblety. I choose dead."

    The appendages driven into his body twisted and tightened.

    The appendage wrapped around his head slowly and agonizingly twisted his head, separating it from his body, like the cork of a wine bottle.

    The sounds of the city muffled the wet snap of his spine and the tearing of flesh as the appendages ripped the legs off the body.

    It was a brutal execution, one that the Londonix Butcher truly deserved.

 116 The Pain Of No Memories

    [Iris Lefay]

    "Ew."

    A small drop of the creature''s blood had splattered on me.

    With a sigh, I pulled out a handkerchief, carefully dabbing away the offending stain before slipping it into my storage ring

    That''s going straight to the laundry.

    "Well. That was fun." I tried to joke, but the thought of what happened to those innocent women pressed heavily in my mind.

    A mechanical squawk echoed through the alley, followed by the rhythmic flapping of metal wings.

    Perry descended gracefully from the railing, his silver feathers gleaming under the twin moons.

    I smiled as my faithful mechanima perched lightly on my shoulder. "You were amazing, Perry."

    My fingers ran along his metallic feathers��surprisingly soft despite their composition.

    He responded by pecking at my ear piercings, and I let out a quiet chuckle.

    "Yes, yes. You''re a good boy."

    I gently nudged his beak away. "Why don''t you take a well-earned flight?"

    Perry tilted his head, his jeweled blue eyes glowing faintly��eerily lifelike as they studied me.

    I could almost feel the question behind them.

    I stroked his mechanical neck. "You earned it. Thank you for finding Francis."

    A soft whir filled the air as his actuators adjusted, wings extending in a flawless, calculated motion.

    Perry launched skyward with a single, powerful beat��a silver blur against the darkened sky.

    I watched as he climbed higher and higher until he was nothing more than a faint glimmer against the vastness above.

    It would be some time before he returned to the ground.

    I let out a slow breath. "Whisper."

    The shadows stirred, and seamlessly, she stepped forward.

    My Phantom Knight.

    We''re the same age, but she is a bit taller than me.

    Dressed in an all-black ensemble��a sleeveless turtleneck, fitted combat pants, reinforced boots, and sleek gauntlets hugging her hands��Whisper was every bit the perfect shadow.

    A black mask concealed the lower half of her face, but it did little to obscure her striking beauty.

    Her golden eyes, glowing with an amber sheen, flickered toward the remains of Tumblety before settling on me.

    Her long silver hair, tied back in a ponytail, swayed slightly as she shifted.

    Oh, and she looks absolutely stunning in her maid''s uniform.

    Whisper is an S-ranker like me and is one of the finest Phantom Knights. Although they were only assigned to members of the Royal Family, the High Queen made an exception for me.

    Along with the task of protecting me, she also walks the halls of Winchester Manor, helping my aunt manage the estate with the same grace she wielded a blade.

    I met her gaze. The question left my lips before I could stop it.

    "...Did I do the right thing?"

    Whisper said nothing at first. Her golden eyes flickered once more to Tumblety''s bloodied remains.

    Then she spoke, her voice soft yet devoid of any emotion.

    "Considering what he had done, execution was inevitable," she said, voice even. "Had the police arrested him, he would have met the same fate."

    Her gaze remained on me. "However, your method of execution was far more fitting, in my opinion."

    I couldn''t help but crack a smile at her answer in her signature monotonous tone.

    "You really know how to butter me up."

    Whisper tilted her head. "I am just pointing out the obvious, Miss Iris."

    "Although I''m afraid Detective Abberline won''t be happy," she added as if reading my thoughts.

    A sigh escaped my mouth. "Oh, trust me, he will be livid."

    I glanced around. "I bet he''s watching us right now. The poor guy is going to pop a vein."

    "Perhaps we could provide him with free meals and beverages the next time he visits the cafe?" Whisper suggested.

    My lips curled into a grin. "Precisely my idea."

    Then I noticed Whisper shifting slightly, as if there is something else she wished to say.

    "What is it?" I asked after an awkward pause.

    "The High Queen has asked if you would like to join her for lunch tomorrow," Whisper said.

    I was quite puzzled. "She didn''t go with His Majesty to the Banquet of Crowns?"

    Whisper shook her head. "High Princess Morgan and Lady Merlin accompanied the High King."

    After a pause, she said. "Her Majesty remained because�� tomorrow is the anniversary."

    Ah.

    I almost forgot.

    Tomorrow marks exactly one year since High Prince Mordred Pendragon fell into the Tear.

    Mordred��

    Even just thinking about his name, I felt that strange sensation again, a fluttering in my heart and a tingling on my lips.

    They were immediately followed by an indescribable pain and loss that I couldn''t control. It was as if my body was reacting every time I thought about him.

    Even now, I can feel my soul crying for him.

    Why?

    Why am I experiencing this? What was my relationship with Mordred Pendragon? What happened between us in my lost past?

    At first, I thought we were just good friends, but now, I''m not so sure.

    I took a deep breath, shoving those thoughts aside before they could spiral.

    I calmed myself down and looked at the night sky peeking between the towering walls of the alley.

    Why the fuck can''t I remember anything?

    For two years, I''ve tried to uncover my past. I''ve asked so many people, including High Queen Guinevere herself.

    But I always got the same carefully crafted answers. As if parts of my life had been�� censored.

    There are many questions.

    Why was I sent to the Shield?

    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

    What happened to me in the Shield? Why is my body covered in these horrible scars?

    Why did my father hate me�� and yet leave me his entire fortune?

    Why is my name Iris Lefay and not Iris Karsus?

    Why do I suck at brewing tea and coffee?

    So many questions, and not even an inkling of an answer.

    I cleared my mind and refocused on Whisper. "It''s been a year, huh?"

    She nodded awkwardly. I tried to read her expression, but she remained as impassive as ever.

    I once heard that Whisper was supposed to be Mordred''s Phantom Knight, but due to his unique circumstances, that never came to pass.

    I still don''t understand why Queen Guinevere assigned her to me.

    Perhaps it''s because I am kind of part of the Royal Family since I am the adopted daughter of Sir Kay, and he is the adoptive brother of the High King.

    This is very confusing.

    Regardless, High Queen Guinevere had always treated me like her own daughter.

    And I even got the opportunity to engage in sparring with her, which greatly helped me in my growth as a warlock.

    The same could be said for High Prince Gawain. We''re great friends, and he''s like an awesome brother.

    Sometimes, I envied Mordred Pendragon for having such an amazing brother.

    And High Princess Morgan is starting to open up to me. Who knew the Ice Princess was not only cold but socially awkward as well?

    But whenever we interact, I sense a crushing guilt cleverly hidden behind her smiles. I don''t know why.

    As for High Princess Elaine, we never really interacted since she spends all of her time in her room.

    And then�� There was little Trinity.

    She always brought a smile to my face. That little girl was just the most adorable thing in the entire world.

    And finally, the High King.

    Truly a man of mystery. A man of contradictions. cold yet fair, distant, yet devoted. A man who calculates every single thing he does, every action meticulously thought out.

    A true enigma.

    He clearly adores his family, but in his own way. He wasn''t one for warm and affectionate words, but he ensured their safety, wellbeing, and futures.

    But love? It is there, hidden behind his cold and ruthless mask.

    Despite rumors branding him a terrible father, I''ve seen a glimpse of something more.

    The support and admiration he gives to Morgan and Gawain, the subtle queries about Elaine''s condition, and the adoration he gives to Trinity

    Even with me, he never acted dismissively. Every time we crossed paths in the Royal Palace, he acknowledged me, spoke with patience, and on the rarest of occasions, even gave me a small smile.

    And yet��

    How could such a person neglect his son for thirteen years and then send him to the deadliest battlefield on the planet?

    Was it because Mordred was weak? Or was it because of the death of High Queen Morgause?

    I just can''t wrap my head around it.

    I shook my head again. No use stewing about it. It was the same as wondering about my lost memories.

    A big fucking headache.

    I turned to Whisper, who stood by silently, waiting patiently for me to finish my inner monologue.

    Goodness. This girl is bloody dedicated.

    With a small smile, I gave her a nod. "Tell Her Majesty I''d be delighted to come over. Also, it''s been some time since I had seen little Trinity."

    Whisper closed her golden eyes in acknowledgment. "Very well. I will convey it to her Majesty and arrange your clothing with Miss Adeline."

    She regarded me quietly for a moment, then tilted her head slightly. "Is there anything else?"

    Damn. She is sharp.

    I hesitated, shuffling my feet��carefully avoiding Tumblety''s blood, mind you.

    Suddenly, I felt... nervous.

    Why the hell am I nervous?

    "Um��" I exhaled, trying to steady my voice. "Can you tell Her Majesty I wish to visit his grave?" I asked, feeling the ache whenever any thought of him entered my mind.

    Whisper held my gaze for a moment before giving a slight nod. "Of course, Miss Iris. Though I doubt you need permission from the High Queen for that."

    I forced a small chuckle. "Still. It is good courtesy to do so."

    "Very well. I''ll inform Her Majesty," she stepped back, and the shadows rippled, coalescing around her slim figure.

    "Oh. Detective Abberline is here," she added before stepping into the shadows.

    I let out a quiet laugh. "Oh, I already know, Whisper.".

    "Lefay!"

    An extremely annoyed voice yelled at me from the entrance of the alley.

    I let out a sigh. Here we go again.

    "You''re a bit late, Freddie!" I called out.

    "I know that, damnit!"

    Frederick Abberline stormed toward me, his disheveled maroon hair whipping in the wind, the hem of his trench coat fluttering behind him.

    He was tall, broad-shouldered, and fit, yet despite being the same age as the Crown Princess, he looked like he was in his thirties.

    The Londonix Butcher case had clearly taken its toll on him.

    No wonder he''s cranky.

    His tired emerald green eyes landed first on the remains of Tumblety and then settled on me, making me flinch unconsciously.

    Though he is an A ranker, Frederick is a formidable and talented warlock, a genius just like the Crown Princess.

    "I saw everything," he said flatly.

    I stuck out my tongue. "Oops."

    He just exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose.

    Oh, he''s definitely going to pop a vein.

    His stigma, Wandering Ghost, enables him to project his consciousness outside of his body, essentially making him a kind of nonexistent ghost that cannot be detected by anything.

    Perfect for surveillance and gathering information.

    Of course, like every powerful stigma, it had its drawbacks.

    The moment Freddie left his body, it was completely defenseless.

    If someone stabbed him while he was in ghost form? Too bad.

    And the longer he stayed out, the harder it was to return.

    Oh, and the best part?

    Anything that happened to his spirit form would be reflected on his body the moment he reentered it.

    For example, if a bus hit him while he was in his ghost form, he''d be totally fine at first. It would just phase through him.

    But the moment he returned to his body?

    He''d experience the full force of getting hit by a fucking bus.

    Also, he couldn''t interact with anything. At all.

    Yep. A weird stigma, indeed.

    Frederick''s eyes went back to Tumblety''s remains; he stepped past me and crouched beside the mutilated corpse, examining the damage.

    "Incarni! You are bloody brutal!" he remarked, picking up Tumblety''s blood-soaked watch and holding it up with a grimace.

    I arched an eyebrow and teased. "Contaminating the evidence, are we?"

    "I''m in charge of this case, so it''s fine," he said, dismissing it, putting the watch back in its original position.

    He let out a low growl. "All that tireless investigation, all those sleepless nights�� and the slimy wanker ends up getting killed by you."

    I shrugged. "You were the one who gave me the contract."

    He stood up. "Actually, Duke Londonix drafted the contract," he sighed. "Well. It did state dead or alive."

    Frederick rubbed his temples, exhaling sharply before shaking his head. "The moment the Duke requested assistance from the Royal Police��and you��this bastard was already a dead man."

    "Although," his gaze locked onto mine. "How did you even catch him with your atrocious sense of direction?"

    "Ah," I grinned. "Tumblety left behind some kind of bright, smoky trail, which was quite easy for me to follow."

    I rubbed the back of my head sheepishly. "Even with that, I�� may have taken some wrong turns. Thankfully, Perry was able to track him."

    Frederick''s expression flatlined. "Even with a bright glowing trail. You managed to get lost?"

    I stuck out my tongue. "Hehe."

    "WHAT DO YOU MEAN, HEHE?" he threw his arms up in frustration.

    I just grinned wider.

    He groaned, muttering under his breath before letting out a long, exhaustive sigh.

    His gaze lingered on Tumblety''s decapitated and dismembered body, and for a brief second, I noticed a faint regret in his face.

    I frowned. "Why did you want him alive?"

    Why does he want a depraved serial killer alive?

    Frederick let out a sigh. "I wanted to question him. I wanted to know why he killed those women."

    I shook my head. "He was a mad man, Freddie."

    "Even mad men have their stories, Lefay," he replied, his emerald gaze met mine, sharp and unwavering.

    I held my gaze with his and sighed. "I bet they do."

    Turning away, I muttered. "I''m sorry I couldn''t give you the chance."

    "If it''s any consolation, the next time you visit the cafe, drinks and food are on the house," I added in a brighter tone.

    Frederick chuckled. "I''ll be sure to visit. As long as you''re not the one making the drinks. I don''t want to die of poisoning."

    I scowled. "Oh, fuck you."

    I waved lazily over my shoulder. "See you later, Freddie. Tell the Duke to send in my compensation."

    His voice followed me. "You''re the youngest billionaire in the Kingdom. Why are you even taking commissions like this?"

    I looked back with a smirk. "I''m not just a billionaire. I''m a genius, philanthropist, and a friendly neighborhood warlock."

    "You mean a murderous vigilante?" Frederick scoffed.

    I laughed, turning on my heel.

    "You know�� That sounds quite accurate."

 117 My Monster

    Location: Lilith''s Palace, The Abyss

    "I''m bored!"

    Lilith''s voice rang through the throne room as she lay upside down on her throne, the black folds of her long black dress cascading over the dark crystal and blending with it.

    She absentmindedly twirled a strand of her black hair that cascaded down the throne, the purple streaks glowing faintly.

    Her pale, flawless legs swung lazily in the air, the lower half of her dress somehow defying gravity despite her being upside down.

    She stared blankly at the towering ceiling, hidden beyond the ethereal light above, her deep purple eyes devoid of their ethereal glow and filled with utter boredom.

    "I''m bored!" she whined again, pouting like a child, her eyes falling on Naberiax standing beside her.

    The High Commander of the daemons let out a slow, weary sigh. His deep, distorted voice resonated from the depths of his black helm.

    "Repeating the words won''t take your boredom away, Your Majesty."

    His glowing eyes flickered like a silent blink. "And being upside down definitely doesn''t help."

    Lilith hummed a tune, her fingers tapping against his lips.

    "Actually, it does," her voice as soft as silk. "It gives you a new perspective."

    She suddenly felt dizzy. "Although it does inconvenience you."

    "I''m a powerful being, and I get dizzy from being upside down? What kind of an absurdity is that?" she wondered aloud with a frown, her eyes shimmering with mild annoyance.

    "Only you can answer that question, Your Majesty," Naberiax replied impassively.

    Lilith hummed, tilting her head, a slow smile curling at her lips.

    "Hmmm�� If he heard of my little dizziness, he''d probably string me upside down in his cell."

    A delightful shiver ran down her spine at the thought. She let out a soft, breathy sigh, her delicate fingers trailing over the smooth curve of her throat before resting lightly on her lips.

    "My. That sounds exciting!" she bit her lip, her voice dropping into a sultry whisper. "We could take it a step further�� remove our clothes��"

    Naberiax let out another deep and exhausted sigh. "Please control your desires when on the throne, Your Majesty."

    Lilith puffed out her cheeks. "Sometimes you''re even worse than Phoebe. No fun at all!"

    Then, just as suddenly as she had been teasing, her tone shifted to a more serious one. "What is the situation in the Pit?"

    Naberiax straightened. "The gravitational pull remains constant, but there''s been a slight weakening of the containment chamber. Leaking has been observed along the seams, and coagulation and solidification rates have also increased."

    Lilith''s brow creased, her fingers tapping idly against the armrest. "And the ardor levels?"

    "Still stable, though there have been occasional dips," the High Commander replied. "Each time, they recover quickly."

    "Millenia have passed, and yet the power hasn''t waned a bit," Lilith sighed as she lazily twirled her hair.

    "Your Majesty. Time doesn''t flow in this realm," Naberiax pointed out.

    She smiled at him, her purple eyes glowing with amusement. "You''re wrong there, my dear High Commander. Time does flow here. It''s just that we''re unaffected by it."

    Naberiax tilted his head, his glowing eyes flickering with curiosity. "What do you mean by that?"

    Lilith wiggled around before gracefully sitting upright on her throne, smoothing out the folds of her dress.

    "Let''s put it this way," she began, her voice casual. "Time is like a fast flowing river, and I am a raft."

    Naberiax remained silent, listening intently to her words.

    "Conventionally, a raft would be carried away by the river, swept along with the current, subjected to its flow."

    Her fingers danced along the armrest of her throne.

    "But in our case, imagine that the raft is firmly anchored to the riverbed. No matter how strong the current is, the raft remains stationary, while the river rushes past it."

    She flashed a knowing smile. "So, in essence, we are here, but time moves around us. We''re not completely unaffected�� but we are untethered from its flow."

    She shrugged. "As to why or how the raft is anchored�� I''m afraid I haven''t acquired sufficient knowledge to answer that."

    Naberiax nodded. "That is truly insightful. Your Majesty."

    He tilted his head slightly. "Though I wonder. Does this affect him as well?"

    Lilith''s lips curled into an amused smile. "Of course, Naberiax." Her voice was laced with certainty. "Although he is an outsider, as long as he''s in our world, his existence must obey its laws."

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    She leaned forward, her purple eyes glowing eerily. "And that is why I am confident."

    A slow, wicked grin stretched across her face, unhinged and possessive. "As long as he is in my realm, he will never age, and that gives me all the time."

    Naberiax remained silent as his queen descended into the depths of her obsession.

    Lilith''s grin widened, and her eyes burned brighter with a predatory hunger. "It''s like I told him, Naberiax. Even if it takes centuries, I will make him mine."

    Naberiax looked into the terrifying gaze of his queen, filled with unhinged obsession.

    The High Commander stood firm, but deep inside, something twisted within him. Each time he saw her like this, a quite blasphemous thought emerged in his mind.

    Had he made the right choice?

    But just as quickly as it surfaced, he crushed that blasphemy.

    He bowed his head. "Your Majesty, your will is both terrifying and admirable."

    Lilith blinked, mildly surprised by his words, before offering him a delighted smile. "Why, thank you!"

    Then, without warning, her body jerked forward, and a single trickle of black blood flowed out of her nose.

    "Your Majesty!"

    Naberiax was by her side in an instant, reaching out to help her, only for Lilith to raise a delicate hand, stopping him.

    "I''m fine," she muttered, wiping the black liquid with the back of her hand.

    Her gaze turned sharp, and her tone was grave. "A Commander was dealt a devastating blow."

    Naberiax stiffened. "A Commander?"

    Lilith nodded, her expression serious. "Genisix."

    The High Commander''s eyes flickered. "Is it the Zygaxis? Or perhaps Alisax?"

    They are the only ones powerful enough in this realm to deal a blow strong enough to wound Genisix. Powerful enough to affect Lilith.

    But before he could press further, he noticed.

    The change in her expression.

    Her skin was even paler than before, yet an excited smile graced her lips.

    "It''s neither of them, Naberiax," she looked at him, her eyes full of excitement.

    Realization dawned on Naberiax, and a shiver ran down his body, something he never realized he would experience again.

    "Impossible! It''s way too early!" he was at a loss for words.

    But Lilith wasn''t listening to him.

    "My Mordred has grown!"

    ******

    It took an instant for Lilith to teleport to the arena, and she did it with the utmost grace.

    Her dress flowed elegantly, and the cool black sand felt soft beneath her bare feet.

    Her purple eyes immediately fell on the entity sprawled on the ground, black ooze flowing out of multiple wounds on its lean body covered in jagged black and gold armor made of swirling shadows.

    Crimson and black flames surged across multiple points on the daemon''s body, consuming its very essence.

    Its abnormally long arms lay limp, seemingly bent at odd angles, its huge, serrated claws lay broken.

    The ball of fire that formed its head wavered unsteadily, and its glowing purple eyes flickered as they took in the appearance of the queen of daemons.

    "Ah! Your Majesty!" Genisix''s voice trembled, not with pain but a certain excitement. He tried to get up, only to stumble backwards.

    "Don''t mind me! I think we did it!"

    Lilith stood there in silence. Her gaze lingered on Genisix for a fleeting moment before turning around to face him.

    Long, messy, snow white hair framed a face that was fairer than hers and almost too perfect, its delicate, slightly feminine features untouched by the scars that marred the rest of his body.

    He wore a white, worn-out sleeveless turtleneck, the fabric frayed and worn out, clinging to him in a way that only emphasized his slim, sculpted frame, especially his exposed left arm, toned and covered in scars.

    His only remaining arm gripped a white sword with a poisonous green edge, glowing and pulsing as if the blade were alive.

    Blood appendages that emerged from his back swayed as if each had a life of its own.

    Every time Lilith looked at him, she could feel her heart fluttering like crazy, and a maddening heat spread through her body, igniting something deep and insatiable within her.

    And when her gaze meets his?

    Oh, she just couldn''t control herself.

    Cold crimson eyes like crystallized blood stared back at her.

    They were not filled with hatred toward her or the defiance that used to burn in them.

    The defiance she used to enjoy very much.

    No. His eyes were filled with a frigid indifference that caused a chill down her spine.

    And she loved it.

    Lilith smiled, her lips parting ever so slightly.

    With a casual grace, she began to approach her greatest obsession.

    She couldn''t sense his aura, even with her powerful and inhuman sensitivity, but she could feel the weight exuded by the gaze of the being standing before her.

    Mordred doesn''t react. He didn''t move as she got closer to him, each step filled with calculated grace.

    Yet his eyes remained fixed on her, following her every motion, every subtle shift of her body, as if studying her movements, ready to plunge his blade into her black heart.

    Lilith adored that gaze, and she relished being under it.

    Her arms slid around his neck, her delicate fingers brushing against the scar on his neck, feeling every part of the imperfection that marred his beautiful neck.

    A neck so beautiful she just wants to break it and study the secrets of its beauty.

    But he didn''t react. Even as she leaned into him, he neither pushed her away nor leaned into her embrace.

    Lilith''s crimson lips hovered over his, and she looked into his eyes.

    Now that she was closer. She saw something else other than the frigid indifference that excited her very being.

    The extreme will that never submitted to her, one that she just couldn''t seem to break, no matter how many times she broke him.

    Her breath, sweet and intoxicating like fine wine, brushed against his lips.

    "It feels incredible, doesn''t it, my dear Mordred?"

    Her voice was a whisper filled with reverence and a twisted obsession.

    "To wield such immense power."

    She pressed her body against his, her fingers curling into his snow white hair.

    Her smile widened, her purple eyes glowing with madness, obsession, and a wild hunger.

    "Congratulations, my dear."

    A delighted giggle escaped her, like an excited child.

    "You''re now an S-ranker, my monster."