ã€ŠI&#x27;m the descendant of the Demon Lord!ã€‹


 Chapter 1: Im the prince of an empire!

    ¡°Urgh¡­¡±

    My chest hurts. My legs hurt. My hands hurt. There¡¯s no part of my body that¡¯s not hurting. I couldn¡¯t even get up, much less walk. Every inch of my body is screaming with pain now.

    I stay down, pretending to be knocked out. I met with some more shoes. The kicks resounded through my head, which was dull with pain, threatening to pass out. Ah. There¡¯s something falls on my cheek. I see, spit huh.

    I won¡¯t move. I can¡¯t move. I just have to endure it. I have to endure it even when the hot liquid they release drenches me. They relieve themselves on my battered body, cackling away.

    This humiliation, this powerlessness, there¡¯s nothing I can do about it. All I can do is endure. Becoming drenched in their piss is nothing but daily life experience for me. They leave. Good. Finally, I can just relax a bit. No wait. They stopped.

    Someone heads towards me. I can hear his footsteps. I don¡¯t move. That¡¯s a fundamental lesson here. Play dead and they¡¯ll go away.

    I can feel something grabbing my hair. The person pulls up my head by my hair. Not just my head, but my entire body. The person has completely lifted my skinny weak body, my feet waving in the hair. My hair was threatening to tear off.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you just piss off and die, you filthy demon?¡±

    He lets go off my hair, wrenching his hand off, and I collapse on to my knees. I open my swollen eyes bleakly, letting the evening light enter painfully into my pupils. I look at the figure of the man in front of me. A muscular man, that¡¯s all I can see, since the light blocks my view. I notice the clump of dark black strands in his hand. My hair. As if I care.

    He spits on me, and finally walks off, and I could do nothing but stare at his back as he moved away.

    ¡°Some royalty he is!¡±

    ¡°Yeah right! What a joke!¡±

    Their laughs echo through the dirty street as they move farther and farther away.

    That¡¯s right. I¡¯m royalty. Nexus Zoltive. That¡¯s my name. A grand name given to those of noble birth. The current first prince of the Ascalon empire, me.

    But right now, I¡¯m nothing more than a rag to wipe the floor with. My sleek black hair and my eyes, whose pupils are like fire, with red and orange waving about, were nothing but a curse to me.

    I lay there, unable to even muster the strength to get up.

    I stagger to my feet. Unable to balance myself, I lean on the wall. The pain from the beatings makes my body numb, and I can¡¯t feel from time to time.

    I crawl forward, keeping my hands on the wall. The smell of the slums, the stink and the unbearable stench of filth permeate my nose. I have been living in this place ever since I was born, and till now, I am unable to get used to it.

    The comments from  those thugs cause an unbearable pain in my chest. Royalty? Nobility? Screw that. I would have been happy if I could live in a normal home at least.

    I keep moving through the narrow streets of the slums. It¡¯s already dark now, and there¡¯s nobody walking around outside. I smell like piss, but oddly, in this atmosphere, it¡¯s almost normal. Almost.

    All the unpleasant memories come flooding into my mind. The truth of my lineage, the legend of the legendary Demon Lord, Neeram Ellris Zoltive, the Eternal empire Ascalon. My life.

    The hero who invaded the Ascalon empire, the chosen one Gabriel, challenged the Demon Lord to a fair battle. The Demon Lord, a wicked existence of malevolence and evil, refused the duel and ordered the demons he personally trained to attack the hero, in order to tire him out. In the end, a large battle ensued and it ended with the hero thrusting the holy sword into the Demon Lord¡¯s chest, killing him. The Ascalon empire came crashing down, its glory destroyed. Its people, women and children included were made into slaves or killed. The breakdown of one of the greatest empires.

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    But the Demon Lord¡¯s children weren¡¯t killed or made in to slaves. Rather, they were made into experimental subjects. The children were subject to terrifying experiments and procedures, but it was a complete failure. Every child of the Demon Lord, was weak and frail. They had no talent in magic, or in the art of crossing blades. In the end, they decided to prolong the bloodline, in order to see if anyone would inherit the Demon Lord¡¯s unrivaled strength, the ¡°Bloodline creation project¡± continued.

    Every one of them were weak as hell. They were all discarded, thrown into slums or to slave traders.

    I was one such a child. A bit different from the others, since I am the last result of the project. However, it seemed the scientists had high expectations of me, due to the color of my eyes. Expectant, they waited for my growth.

    In the end all that met them was utter disappointment.

    I was a complete failure, even worse than the other subjects, since my body was weaker and even more brittle.

    Without any hesitation, I was cast into these slums. The slums of Gureis kingdom, in the name of purification and education.

    And here, it only got worse. The people hated me, the descendant of a Demon Lord. My black hair and eyes, were without a doubt, one of the greatest curses that existed, in my perspective.

    ¡°A full moon huh.¡±

    That was another thing that excited those researchers. Every full moon, my hair would lighten and shine. It would turn completely white, a pure silver sheen surrounding it.

    I staggered to the space I called home, an empty space of land, I had somehow cleaned up.

    And as always, it was filled with filth.

    The descendant of a Demon Lord. The child of the existence that bound them to the slums. A scarecrow for them to vent their anger on.

    In the slums, having a shack was unexpectedly common. With some of the thick leaves and branches from the surrounding trees, constructing a home was a piece of cake.

    Being homeless was rare in the slums. Well, I¡¯m that rarity.

    I collapse onto the filth, unable to move my limbs anymore.

    Every time I build a shack, it was destroyed easily, as if hit by a storm. I learned a few  times later, that it was the people from here, who thought that a Demon Lord doesn¡¯t deserve a shack. I cleaned a spot and used it to sleep, so they regularly dumped all the trash there. A truly pitiable life.

    I didn¡¯t want to become like this you know? In this world, I wish I could become something greater, rather than a child punching bag.

    But what happened that day, I don''t think I''ll ever be able to forget it

    ¡°Oh great Demon Lord, we have come for you¡±

    Those words from that woman completely changed my life.

 Chapter 2: Guts over fear

    The morning light disturbs my sleep, and I open my eyes. As always, a nasty scent greets me. The scent from me and the trash around me. I was lying on my chest, my face buried into the trash. I roll over onto my back, and stared into the sky.

    The smell of something disgusting enters my nose, as I was covered in some viscous green muck. It¡¯s not new since it¡¯s just a daily occurrence, the price for living in the slums.

    I place my palms on the ground and push off, raising my upper body. It hurt quite a bit. Yesterday¡¯s beating took quite a toll on me, since I could feel all the bruises, hurting and restricting my movement.

    I take off the shirt, no, the rag that I wore, and checked my torso.

    A large blue contusion greets me, my chest covered with it. My body ached from even slightly moving it. I gently poked one of the purple marks from among the huge blue mass, and pain flashes through my chest. My body was skinny, to the extent of being malnourished. My ribs peeked through my paper like skin, and my skinny legs were like toothpicks. My cheeks were hollowed in, and my lips were cracked. It¡¯s a wonder I haven¡¯t starved to death yet. The people from the ¡®Church¡¯ occasionally bring by food, and one of the sisters from there always gives me a bowl, since I¡¯m not even allowed to approach the place. That sister is a nice person. I have to repay her one day.

    I weakly get up, onto my feet, and crouch down, waiting for the pain to pass. Then slowly, bit by bit, I raise myself,  the pain coursing through my body every time I move.

    Somehow, I stood up, and took my first step. I need to head to the Food distribution. It is my sole lifeline here.

    I look up, and gasp.

    There was someone standing there. A woman. Her long blonde hair hung behind her, and a white cloth covered her face, right up to her straight nose. Her azure eyes stared into mine, cold and lifeless. She wore an odd set of clothes, half a shirt concealing her voluptuous body, and thin white pants which stuck onto her legs. Her navel was completely exposed, showing off her mesmerizing body.

    And she stood there. Just stood there. How long was she here? She keeps staring at me, as if waiting for me to reply. Is this someone who was sent to observe me? Take me away again? Those researcher bastards. Can¡¯t they just leave me alone? But right now, I need to confirm her identity.

    ¡°Wh-Who?¡±

    Life snaps into her eyes, as she suddenly blinks, and her eyes immediately zone onto my face. They quickly looked me over as if it were a checkup. It made me feel uncomfortable, for some reason. A lady staring at the body of a half naked young boy. That¡¯s just unnatural.

    She keeps staring at me with her lively eyes.

    ¡°Who are y-you?¡±

    My hoarse voice leaks out, and I unintentionally stutter, since the only words I had spoken for a long time were the thanks I once offered to the nice sister who gave me food.

    She stares at me for a while longer, and then without a shred of warning, she goes down on one knee.

    ¡°Nexus Ellris Zoltive, we are Pegasus, the faithful servant of thine ancestor, his majesty Neeram Ellris Zoltive. We have come to meet thou¡±

    Eh. What did she just say? Ellris? Zoltive? What¡¯s that? My ancestor? She speaks in a really weird way. Neeram? I have heard that name though.

    The existence of pure terror, who made all of the world tremble in fear with only his raw power. The Demon Lord, Neeram Zoltive.

    I do know that my last name is Zoltive. But even the same middle name? That¡¯s impossible.

    In this world, the first name identifies the person, the last name identifies the family, and the middle name identifies the branch family that the person belongs to. Most people don¡¯t even have a middle name. This person, she made a mistake.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but you¡¯ve got the wrong person¡±

    ¡°It is not so. For thine black hair and fiery eyes are without doubt the same as that of our master¡¯s, Neeram¡¯s.¡±

    Her words pissed me off. Black hair? Fiery eyes? Who gives a shit! They have been nothing but a curse for me, and until now, they have only brought me misfortune.

    I walk off, limping away. I ignored the woman. She doesn¡¯t get up, and stays on one knee.

    That said, why are you following me?!

    I walk into the slums, taking a roundabout way to get to the food distribution. That woman keeps following me around, showing no intention whatsoever to stop.

    Irritating. All this time passed after I was thrown away, and one day,  a person who served the Demon Lordappears? As if. Get a cover story that seems believable, at least.

    The surroundings in the clearing noisy as usual, with people running around, trying to get even one more serving of food. The Food distribution. I eagerly head over there for it was the only thing that had ensured my survival in this place.

    I reach the clearing, that annoying woman still behind me. I keep heading in, and steer off to the side, heading into a side street. The rendezvous point for me and the sister. When I get there, I see her. An angel stood there, with a white bowl in her hand.

    The sister was a young woman, around 18 years old. She wore a long white robe, along with an animal eared hood covering her head. The standard robes for people from the church. I head over to her.

    She looks up when I get there, her green eyes zoning in on me. Locks of green hair escape from the hood, and freckles cover her face. But to me, she¡¯s nothing less than an angel. She hands me the bowl, just like always.

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    ¡°Nexus? Who¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t know¡±

    I don¡¯t pay any attention to the woman, and wolf down on the stew before me. It¡¯s tasteless and stale. But for me, it is nothing less than the most delicious cuisine on earth.

    The sister walks off patting my head saying ¡®Eat up and Grow healthy¡¯. Truly, what a nice person.

    I wipe the bowl clean with my tongue and set it down in a corner of the table they used for the Food distribution. I walked off quickly nervousness grasping my heart. It¡¯d be bad if someone spotted me after all. I quickly head into the winding streets of the slums, nervous about the possibility that the situation would worsen by a stroke of bad luck.

    This woman, she¡¯s persistent. Even now, she¡¯s following me. Argh! So annoying.

    I head deeper into the streets, using one of my secret routes.

    Almost. Almost at the exit when¡ª

    ¡°Oi, fake royal? Are you running away?¡±

    Fear grasps my heart. I freeze, unable to move. Shit. They found me. Just like yesterday, no, just like everyday, these people found me. They find me, corner me, and humiliate me.

    I hate it.

    Every moment of this life. Everytime this happens. My own bad luck, my helplessness, and my lack of strength.

    They walk closer, and I could hear their footsteps. Every time, it¡¯s like this. I can¡¯t do anything at all.

    An arm slings around my shoulder, and that disgusting voice reaches my ear. I wanted to cringe away, but I couldn''t.

    ¡°Oi, fake. Who¡¯s the hottie?¡±

    ¡°I¡­. I don¡¯t know¡±

    Shit. That woman. She didn¡¯t leave! Damn it.

    ¡°You don¡¯t? Then is she open to all?¡±

    He begins whispering vulgar things in my ear. I can do nothing but clench my fist, since even now, I¡¯m completely at their mercy.

    He takes off his arm, and pushes me away. I collapse, and just lay there, unmoving. That¡¯s right. This is what¡¯s best. It¡¯s her fault for following after me. This is the rule of the slums. Everything goes. I¡¯m sorry, but in order to survive, I¡¯ll have to use you as a sacrifice.

    But. But.

    ¡°Oii lady. Why are you following this guy around ? He¡¯s nothing but a useless bag of shit you know? Why don¡¯t you come along with me? I can show you a much better time. You know, in bed~!¡±

    He starts talking to her. I can feel the lust in his voice, his belief in his own strength. Shit. I hate it.

    I crawl away, since it¡¯s her trouble for now. Fuck pride, fuck justice. This is what it takes to survive. In this world, this is the way one survives.

    Inch by inch, I move away, leaving the woman in peril. Damn it. It doesn¡¯t feel good. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth. My stomach is swirling around. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

    This is right. This is what¡¯s right. In this world, in this hell of a world, a weakling like me only has the choice to run away like a cockroach. That¡¯s right. This is what¡¯s right.

    And yet. And yet. Why? Why ? Why am I running? Why am I running, not away from them, but towards them?

    Why am I throwing a punch at his face? Why? It only gets me in more trouble! Why!

    Haaah¡­ It¡¯s too late already. My fate is sealed. Might as well see it through to the end.

    ¡°DERRRYAAAAHH!!!¡±

    The 4th of Moonshadow. A beautiful morning, with birds chirping, delighted by the clear sky. A perfect day for people to go and enjoy themselves.

    But quite a few miles away, in the slums of a kingdom, a yell resounds.

    A yell filled with fighting spirit.

    A boy, who looked about 14 years old, with a body made of bones, shouted his throat out, as he swung his fist into the face of the man standing before him. In the boy¡¯s  face, despair and fear raged. But, in his fiery red eyes, a strange determination burned.

    The punch left the large man staggering, but the boy howled in pain. His arm had popped out of its socket from just throwing a punch. He collapsed onto the ground, clutching his shoulder. The large man regained his balance, and threw a punch into the boy¡¯s face, sending him flying. He crashed into a wall and collapsed, gasping for air. The two other men ran up to him, and began kicking and stomping him, making the youth yell in pain.

    The man walked up to the boy.

    ¡°You should have just ran away, you fake fuck¡±

    He cracks his neck, preparing for the execution he was about to deliver to the boy. As he neared the body of the boy,--

    ¡°Stop¡±

    A voice resounded. The voice of a female¡¯s, a voice which made one feel like they were freezing in hell.

    The voice came from a woman, who stood a bit away, a white cloth covering her face.

    Her azure eyes were filled with inexplicable joy, but her voice was filled with an enormous amount of coldness and killing intent.

    The three men froze from terror, their bodies unable to move.

    It was all too fast.

    Within a moment, the woman wiped the three burly men out throwing them away as if they were rag dolls.

    She walked towards the boy, her steps long and graceful.

    ¡°Who, no Wh-wha-what are you?¡±

    The boy asked, feeling fear and admiration for the strong being in front of him.

    ¡°Oh great Demon Lord, we have come for thee¡±

 Chapter 3: Women are scary!

    [I made quite a small chapter this time, since i couldn''t find enough material to cram in here. Fair warning, i want to make this story quite slow, although it may not be as slow as i think. Enjoy and thx for reading!]

    ******

    With just a few words, all the respect, fear and admiration I had for the woman crumbled down, leaving behind just scorn at her words.

    Demon Lord? Even jokes have their limits.

    ¡°I¡¯m thankful to you for saying me, but it seems you have got the wrong person. I apologise for troubling you.¡±

    I bowed and apologized to her, in order to quickly leave and let this woman do whatever she wished to do.

    ¡°Nay. The noble blood of his highness Neeram shall not be mistaken by us. Without doubt, the blood of our Master Neeram flows in thy veins, powering thy existence¡±

    ¡°True. I might be related to the demon lord, but to designate me as his direct descendant is too wrong. I¡¯m nothing but an experiment, a play on creating an artificial being¡±

    ¡°Artificial or not, in this world, thou art the closest to our master.¡±

    ¡°Master?¡±

    ¡°Forgive us. We are Sylvia Zoltive, the Pegasus, the retainer of his highness Neeram Ellris Zoltive¡±

    ¡°Re-retainer of the Demon Lord?¡±

    Retainer of the Demon Lord?! If I reported her presence¡­. Nothing would change. In the end, I¡¯m the useless creation from a failed experiment. Even if they believed my words, they would find some excuse to execute me for treason. The only reason I¡¯m left alive is only in order to maintain the Church¡¯s public image, and nothing more. As soon as they find a reason, no matter how impossible it may seem, my head will be rolling.

    ¡°I- I see¡±

    I could only reply as such. Because this person, this, Sylvia, she alone, without a doubt, could entirely destroy this kingdom, merely because it suited her fancy.

    ¡°Master Nexus, please realize it. Thou art of royal blood, and the blood is of the great Demon Lord.¡±

    ¡°Wh-why do you need me?¡±

    ¡°The revival of Ascalon.¡±

    She replied solemnly, her expression turned serious all of a sudden.

    Ascalon. The empire which once was the greatest power in all of the continents. And I am its prince. But, since the Ascalon empire is nothing but a relic of the past now, my royal standing is also similar.

    ¡°Isn¡¯t Ascalon, well¡­¡±

    ¡°That is why, it is to be revived. And a country needs its king. And an empire needs an emperor. Thy do understand what we mean?¡±

    Haaah. In the end, it was all just to make me a public figure. A tool. I did hate the way my life is now, but at least I could pride myself on being my own master.

    I could only sneer at the woman who came to make me a tool.

    ¡°Sylvia-san, I cannot comply with your request. I¡¯m sorry, but please leave me alone¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re afraid that is not possible. Thy art the last remaining of the royal blood, and the last required piece.¡±

    ¡°I see. Then, even Sylvi- no Pegasus san should know the requirements of becoming an emperor.¡±

    ¡°?¡±

    ¡°Strength. In the end, an emperor is the symbol of an unstoppable strength, a force to be reckoned with. And, with me as an emperor, well,..¡±

    I gesture at my sickly looking body, and look back at her. She looks at me, her expression unreadable.

    ¡°We shall see to it. By the time of thine coronation, we will make thou a force to be reckoned with¡±

    She fires my words back at me, her expression still unreadable.

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    ¡°I understand why you need to use me, but I¡¯m only one of the experiments. The others are still alive, just like me. I¡¯m the failure of a series of failures. A body with capabilities weaker than that of a normal human¡¯s, and my mana pool is nonexistent.¡±

    I reason with her, hoping that she would just back down. But no. I remembered. The curse which affected me¡ª

    ¡°That is of no consequence. Thine black hair and eyes of fire are all that we need. Forget making thou stronger, we only need thine image.¡±

    Her words. Minute by minute, they¡¯re ticking me off. Even if I have no chance of beating her in a fight, my body was tingling, filled with desire to defeat this woman who spoke to me as if I were a tool.

    I hate it.

    Before I knew it, my voice had gone cold.

    ¡°Revival of Ascalon? As if I care. You revive your own country, not drag someone who has no relation whatsoever into it. Or has the pride of the great Ascalon empire died to this extent?¡±

    ¡°But thine blood is¡ª¡°

    ¡°My blood is not mine. I myself am nothing but an artificial lifeform. A being created through magic. A failure created by magic. Ascalon is a dead empire. An empire of fools and one which has no relation with me.¡±

    Revive Ascalon? Bah! I couldn¡¯t care less about some country that abandoned me. When I lived in these slums for all the 14 years of my life, there was no person from Ascalon to save me. If anything, the existence of Ascalon only made my life worse.

    My words seemed to have struck a nerve, since the person before me has been leaking a tremendous amount of killing intent. Her beautiful azure eyes were replaced with eyes of unmistakable wrath, as she stared down at me. My legs trembled from her stare, but I stayed my ground, refusing to budge.

    ¡°Thine courage is admirable, to speak of the great Ascalon as such before us, without a shred of fear.¡±

    She stops and ponders, maybe thinking up her next move. She was an existence I had no hope of even touching, and this person was obviously not happy with me.

    ¡°We¡¯re afraid we have to take thine suggestion. We will listen to your advice.¡±

    Huh? I could only look perplexed at her words. What advice did I give?

    ¡°We shall search for another of the royal blood, and we shall make him the Emperor of Ascalon.¡±

    A replacement strategy huh. Fine. Just leave me alone.

    ¡°So for now, won¡¯t thou die?¡±

    ¡°GUHAAA!!¡±

    I could only look down at my torso, where out of nowhere, a large hole opened up. Almost 30 cm in diameter, it went through my chest, like a see through hole. My blood drenched the mud, and I could taste the blood welling up in my mouth.

    I collapse onto my knees, still looking at the ghastly wound. Red flesh and a thick liquid dripped down, and I could see something white in the midst of it. My bones huh.

    I cough up the blood, and put my arms on the floor. My entire body was shaking, as if it couldn¡¯t even begin to bear the damage. My arms were trembling, threatening to let me fall.

    A sharp pain hit my shoulder as the bone that popped out took on the strain of my body weight. I collapsed onto my side, gasping for the air I could never breathe.

    I look up at the woman, my vision defocused. Her eyes were filled with happiness at my fallen state. Shit. Shit. Shit.

    I could only stare at her, as the blood gushed out of me and my vision faded.

    The last thing I saw was her face, that despicable and hateful face.

 Chapter 4: The Gallery of Death

    I gasped, and began coughing. Sweat beaded on my forehead, and I could still feel the shock and surprise that had enveloped me.

    I-I-I¡¯m alive? But, but the hole?!

    I stare down at my chest, coughing. Perfectly okay. The same old bones and skin. I lack a gaping hole in my chest. That¡¯s¡­ reassuring?

    . I pushed myself off the ground, and massaged my chest. That was scary. Was it an illusion?

    I remember about the woman and look around wildly. There¡¯s no trace of her. Her tearing a hole in my chest¡­ I shudder, grasping my chest tightly. Wh-what happened?

    And finally, I take notice of my surroundings.

    ¡°Wh-wha-?!¡±

    I look around, shocked. The houses, the mud houses of the slums, everyone of them were burning.

    And the flames were not normal ones. A dark sticky red like flame, which devoured the scene around me.

    The narrow street I stood in was covered with debris, all covered with those dangerous looking flames. The debris was all around me, enclosing me like an arena.

    Both sides of the street were covered with the remains of what stood there, and with those flames burning, I dare not try and cross them.

    I look up at the sky. It was still dark, almost dawn. Was I out for a while? What happened? Did someone attack the Gureis kingdom? Impossible. Its military might was not something so weak that someone could take over in one night.

    Wait, how long was I out?

    Judging by my hunger, and the fact that I could still walk, I¡¯m sure it¡¯s not more than a day.

    I begin walking, towards the blockade. I threw away my hesitation. The closer I got to those flames, the more heat I felt. And the heat was not like that of a normal fire. It felt like a thousand fires were focused at a single point, threatening to burn me from this far away. But oddly, the flames did nothing to me, except make my body feel hot and sweaty.

    I keep advancing. It¡¯s useless to wait for someone to save me anyways. If someone did find me, they would probably take it as an opportunity to get rid of a great evil from this world. That¡¯s right. The one whom I can depend on is me.

    Right now, I felt as if I were being roasted inside an oven, at the highest temperature possible.

    I place my hand on the debris, and the flames advance on me, as if delighted at finding new prey.

    But suddenly, they backed off, and continued burning, without advancing.

    I placed my bad arm at a lower spot, just as insurance. Wait. My arm. It was supposed to be dislocated.

    I swing my arm, and not even the slightest tinge of pain greets me. Wow. That¡¯s great, I guess.

    Right leg forward, and I begin climbing. Slowly, but surely, I climbed the wreckage, keeping my arm from getting any more harm.

    I climb over to the top of the debris and roll down the sloping side of the arena like enclosure. I try to keep my body away from those dangerous looking flames. I get up and continue climbing down this huge wall of trash.

    As the morning light crossed over from the horizon towards the slums, the scene unfolded before me.

    Carnage.

    The slums were a wreck without doubt, but now, it was nothing like before.

    Smoke rose to the skies, clouding the burning remains of the humongous slum.

    The houses all lay crumbled, like a storm had passed through them. And all across the wide field, I could see those disgusting red flames, burning and guzzling down the debris. The flames were weird without a doubt. They sent a sensation of heat, and instead of burning, they erased the existence of the substance, as if they were being consumed.

    ¡°Th-the slums¡­¡±

    I had no particular attachment to this disgusting place, but being here, I could at least feel that I had a place to sleep, and that I would be safe. A pseudo home, but home nonetheless.

    I collapsed onto my knees, distraught.

    *Squish!*

    Something, something got squelched under my knee. I looked down, at the source of the sensation.

    ¡°UWAAAAH!¡±

    I kicked it off and crawled away, scared.

    What was there, was¡­ was a head. A head, that was unbearably familiar to me. The dirty blonde hair growing on his despicable head. How could I not recognize him. The source of my despair.

    His head lay there, without a body to attach itself to. The skin on the neck looked like it was twisted and turned, as if it were a toy¡¯s ripped off head.

    One of his eyes were poked out, and the other hanging loosely with a strand of flesh connecting it to the main body. The eye ball rolled from me kicking it, and faced me.

    I couldn¡¯t even raise a sound. The oppression, the fear, the despair I felt from that¡­ that head lying there, clamped down on my lungs, and I felt as if I couldn¡¯t breathe.

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    I lay there, gagging, because I couldn¡¯t inhale a drop of air.

    I¡¯m scared. I¡¯m scared!

    Someone, save me!

    There was something welling up from my stomach, and at the back of my throat.

    I rolled over, supporting myself, and opened my mouth.

    I threw up. Everything, every inch of food I had ever eaten, everything gushed out in a bright yellow stream.

    ¡°Haaah¡­HAaaah.¡±

    I couldn¡¯t stop gasping, from the shock of seeing it.

    I staggered to my feet, still breathing, somehow. My mind felt fuzzy, as if it just wanted to shut down.

    No¡­I can¡¯t. I need to¡­get out of here.

    Even thinking was taking a toll on me, and all that filled my mind was that head. That eyeball rolling on the ground. That, that despair I felt.

    But, only after I struggled to my feet, did I see the true face of the massacre that occurred here.

    The street, no, this was more apt to be called a gallery, was pinned with works of art.

    Bodies.

    Every one of them were bent and twisted at impossible angles, and pinned to the wall, like a display piece. My eyes widened, as the scent of the corpses which were starting to rot wafted into my nose.

    I walked through the street, wishing it were all a dream. My entire body felt mechanic, as I walked through the galleria of the dead, not even understanding what was real and what was a dream.

    Am I insane? I am right? That would explain everything¡­ Everything.

    For some reason, a liquid was pouring down my cheeks. It was warm, and viscous.

    ¡°What¡­what is this?¡±

    For the first time in my life, I cried for someone else.

    The thick drops of my tears rolled down my face, and I couldn¡¯t stop them.

    ¡°These tears, they¡¯re odd aren¡¯t they? After all, you guys were the people who tried to kill me, who wanted me dead! And yet¡­and yet¡­. Why¡­.why did you have to die¡­?¡±

    I talked to empty air and that in itself felt real, as if I were speaking to them. Insanity was encroaching on my mind, and I was ready to let it take over.

    Even if.. even if¡­ they hated and despised me¡­ they were the closest I had to a family. Even hated, the slums were my home. Even ostracized, this was my hometown, and these were people I knew. The only people I knew.

    I couldn¡¯t even think anymore. I walked to the Food distribution area, and only there, the gallery¡¯s actual attractions were placed.

    A mountain of corpses. One on top of the other, as if they were going to touch the skies. All their expressions were filled with despair, and their lifeless eyes were filled with fear, mixed with hate.

    In front of the corpses, a spear was planted in the ground.

    And on them, a gruesome scene was created.

    Bodies of five babies, were impaled on there. Each one through the head, and their blood caked the spear.

    The entire ground was filled with blood, and was already the color of dried blood.

    My legs felt weak. They were trembling. I got on my knees, and grasped my hands tightly, to keep myself from shaking even more. And like that, I spent a while, mourning for the ones who wanted me dead.

    ¡°Wh-who would do something like this?!¡±

    A while later, a voice emerged, from behind the corpses, and a stumbling figure walked out.

    ¡°Th-th-the sister?¡±

    Her eyes were filled with aversion and disgust at the sight of the mountain.

    I somehow muttered these words, and her green eyes turned to me.

    Sister is here. She¡¯ll save me. Yeah.

    My mind was already filled with hope when I looked at her kind figure, and I stretched my arm to her.

    ¡°Y-yo-you monster!¡±

    Eh?

    ¡°You demon! How could you!? All these people?! How could you kill them?! You bastard son of demons! Die! Just die! I always knew you were one of those demon scum! Why won¡¯t you just drop dead!¡±

    No. Stop. It hurts! Please stop it!

    Even if the others called me so, on a daily basis, it couldn¡¯t hurt. But from sister, those words, they were like lethal strikes. Her words struck my heart, like a lance covered in venom. Her eyes were filled with fear and hatred.

    Hatred against me.

    It dawned on me.

    Without a doubt, in this world, I am alone. No one wants me, no one needs me. In the end, who am I, but a clone?

    Even if people find me, they¡¯ll only want to kill me. I need to, I need to get away from here.

    I ran.

    Through those winding streets filled with death.

    I didn¡¯t know where.

    But I knew, anywhere but here.

 Chapter 5: The battle in the skies!

    The fumes from the smoke rose into the air, staining the clear blue sky a sickly black.

    High up in the sky, a silhouette was barely visible, hidden by the dark smoke. The person was a woman, her blonde hair filled with black marks due to the smoke, and her clear azure eyes, staring down , as if the world were her plaything.

    Her gaze was fixed on one boy, who ran like a madman, in the streets filled with death. His face was filled with snot and tears, everything running down his distraught face.

    ¡°How unsightly.¡±

    The woman, Sylvia Zoltive the Pegasus, muttered, gazing at the boy.

    ¡°Truly, we are smart. Our idea was just too genius. Master would have praised us were he to see this¡±

    She praised herself, flipping her head to get rid of the smoke, and continuing to stare at the boy.

    ¡®To think such a disgrace obtained the royal blood of the Grandmaster, what an unfair world. And to think this child would grow so impudent that he would dare deny the offer we presented to him, to help him rise from this infernal place.¡¯

    She grew bored, and kept playing with her hair, all the while not taking her eyes off the boy.

    Pegasus, irritated when the boy declined her offer and tried to get away, immediately put him under a strong spell, in order to keep him in the illusion while she figured out how to bring him.

    Kidnapping him would be all too simple, but without his acceptance, the Gureis kingdom would be alerted, since they had officially registered him; albeit without his knowledge, as a citizen of Gureis. So forced kidnapping was a no. Her master had told her not to attract attention.

    The next thing to do would be to get him to leave Gureis on his own. And the only way to do that would be to make sure he doesn¡¯t have a place to return to.

    And the end result was this.

    She used one of the ¡®Infernal Storm¡¯ spell scrolls she had been gifted, keeping the boy and herself in the eye of the storm, in order to wipe out the slums.

    After that, she waited for him to wake up, and since she was bored, she performed the Ancient dark dance ritual, which needed one to place several sacrifices in specific postures, and to create an offering of a 1000 bodies, with the Spear of Dreyfascul, impaling the bodies of five newborns to attract the Evil god to this place. A barbaric sight for some, but an offering to a holy existence for Sylvia.

    ¡®We are too smart for our own good¡¯

    She kept praising herself, and kept up surveillance on the impudent boy. She couldn¡¯t kill him, since ¡®The Professor¡¯ wanted him alive.

    Then, her crisis perception tingled, signaling her of an approaching presence.

    ¡°The Gureis kingdom? What a flimsy kingdom, to take action after one day of this happening. This is why humans don¡¯t deserve to rule the world.¡±

    She muttered, disappointed at the late actions of the humans. She surveyed her surroundings, and finally caught sight of the disturbance. A ball of fire, rapidly approached, growing in size as it drew closer.

    ¡®Fireball? No, Elementification. Tch, Emperor ranked?¡¯

    She thought to herself, recognizing the move heading towards her.

    The fireball, which burned golden, approached, and suddenly, a circle with inscriptions scrawled across it appeared, and the fireball passed through it.

    The fireball rapidly changed shape, becoming more and more humanoid, until a man of flame stood before her.

    ¡°Foul demon, how dare you perform your offerings in this sacred land?¡±

    The man, whose flames were dying, spoke to the woman, in a throaty voice that made one¡¯s scalp tingle.

    ¡°Humph¡±

    Sylvia ignored his comment, and remained on guard.

    ¡°So be it! I, Arthiras the second, holy warrior of the Rufius church, shall deliver the God¡¯s will upon you!¡±

    He yelled, and the flames expanded, dispersing into the air.

    From the remains of the golden fire, emerged a man, his chestnut like eyes filled with hate towards Sylvia. His auburn hair, fluttered about in locks around his cheeks. His straight nose and handsome face would make any woman fall for him, but Sylvia was unimpressed. He wore armor which shined in the sun¡¯s bright rays, with its should plates curved like a sickle. He drew his sword, a greatsword, which shined in sync with the sun¡¯s rays.

    ¡°That sword¡­.Liugee¡¯s sword?¡±

    ¡°That is right! Lord Liugee himself has bestowed this upon me, in order to hunt you!¡±

    ¡°Apostle?¡±

    At her words, the man faltered, as if struck by her words.

    ¡°Big words from a fake who¡¯s not even an Apostle. And here I was worried. I should have expected as such from such a ¡®small¡¯ man¡±

    She spoke, gesturing at the man.

    The man was truly one who could charm any lady, but his stature was that of a child. A dwarf. The dwarfs excelled in the crafts, their dexterity far surpassing others. But their short stature and stubby legs would always make them weaker than the other superior races.

    Sylvia''s guard dropped quite a bit, seeing a dwarf before her. After all, she was a retainer of the Demon Lord himself. A mere dwarf, that too a holy warrior, cannot even scratch her. Even with Liugee''s sword, they will be weaker than her.

    ¡°But what a surprise. A dwarven holy warrior? Are they running out of humans now?¡±

    ¡°Shut your mouth, demon! I shall strike you down now!¡±

    Arthiras swung his great sword in an arc, sending a wave of light speeding towards the woman.

    She parried it, with a flick of her finger. Angered, Arthiras readied his sword like a lance and charged.

    ¡°DERYA!¡±

    ¡°Oh~to!¡±

    She grasped the edge of the sword with her fingers and flexed her arm, sending him flying into the sky, waving his arms around.

    ¡°Tch. That damn sword¡±

    She muttered glancing at her hand. On it, golden flames were burning, greedily eating her flesh.

    She clenches her fist, and a dark torrent of energy covers her fist, dousing the bright golden flames.

    ¡°Ouuuu!!!!¡±

    Arthiras charges back, this time with more vigor.

    She ducks under his charge, and plants a fist on his chest. Something cracks, and he¡¯s sent flying again. But he quickly stops it, by sending out a stream of blue energy from his back.

    He runs at her, seemingly walking on the air, and swings his sword again. She ducks, and tries to hit him again. But, he shifts his trajectory, and brings the sword down on her neck. She quickly turns, using her energy to propel her, turning and twisting her neck out of the way. In the same motion, she brings her leg down on his head, to drop him to the ground. Suddenly, the same blue energy shoots out from his chest, and he pushes himself away from the lethal kick.

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    Aware of a stinging pain, she touches her cheek, and is made aware of the flames burning on her face. Even though her dodge was perfect, she couldn¡¯t avoid the perfect turn of the sword completely, granting her the wound. A black energy wraps around the wound and shuts the flames.

    ¡°I see. I¡¯ve underestimated you, dwarf¡±

    He humphs, and keeps away, planning his next course of action.

    ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll take you a little bit more seriously?¡±

    Sylvia raises her arm, and even more of the black energy gushes out, covering her raised arm. It slowly takes shape, into an armguard, with a curved blade covered by a murderous aura on the side of the black armguard.

    ¡°Soul armament?¡±

    ¡°Bingo~¡±

    She kicks the air and accelerates, finally beginning her attack. Arthiras slashes, to take down her charge, but she kicks the air above her and moves down, kicking again, accelerating diagonally upwards.

    She raises her arm to her side, aiming at the dwarf¡¯s short stubby neck. But in an unexpected move, a golden aura expands out, smothering her.

    ¡°Urgh!¡±

    She groans in pain, as the golden flames burn her leg. She managed to dodge at the last moment, and stopped most of the flames with her armguard, but her knee was caught in its rapid advance.

    Arthiras doesn¡¯t give her respite, and pushes in, slashing and kicking. She couldn¡¯t douse the flames, and they kept growing, threatening to burn her leg off.

    Slash parry parry slash. She kept up the monotonous works, unable to keep her displeasure in. Arthiras grins, and drives his sword in, the moment she raised her displeasure. The sword drives into her chest and flares brightly, covering her in a bright light.

    ¡°Ugyaaa!¡±

    She screamed in agony from the light covering her. She regained her composure in a second and began chanting in a foreign language.

    ¡°Come, Bolthiras¡±

    In a flash, a dark bolt of electricity came from the sky and covered them, dousing the flames completely. She pushed the blade out of her with the dark armour covering her, and kicked off, retreating.

    The sword, covered in her blood, began corroding, and a battle of light and dark began. Unperturbed, Arthiras kept on the offensive, to finish the demon before him.

    Sylvia parried with her newly gained foot blade, which covered the dark boot she wore in a sweeping kick.

    But her parry was too weak, and both of them understood it. He twisted and brought the sword to her neck, in order to finish the fight.

    *BOOOOM*

    A flash brightened the dark sky, and the sword was stopped by the dark pulsing armor. Barely.

    But Arthiras kept at it, digging the sword into the armor, bit by bit. He exuded the holy aura of his now shining armor to keep Sylvia¡¯s armor at bay, and tried to lop her head off in one fell swoop.

    But in the last moment, Sylvia turned her head, and drove her hand at the dwarf¡¯s head, to cut it off with her armor¡¯s blade. The blade fell short, and Arthiras grinned with confidence.

    Sylvia also smiled, and opened her hand.

    Out of it, a spike of dark malicious energy shot out, impaling the dwarfs¡¯ head.

    The dwarf, unable to process this sudden move, dropped to the ground, 100 meters below them.

    ¡°Haaaah¡­.Haaah¡­¡±

    Sylvia dropped her body, her raspy breath entering her ears. She looked down on the horrible wound on her, the price she had to pay to kill the holy warrior.

    The sword had been diverted, its blade cut off the cloth covering her face in half, and kept moving, which then lopped off her left arm, and buried itself onto her thigh, glowing as if it were glad.

    Grunting, she pulled out the sword, and focused her energy on the holy sword.

    Her energy covered it, and with her blood, the sword quickly became dark, getting corrupted by the inflow of darkness.

    The boy was long gone, and Sylvia stood there, without an arm and covered with golden flames threatening to kill her.

    She released a torrent of energy and doused the flames, then sat in the air, to take a breather. She surveyed the area, for the boy, and instead spotted something better.

    ¡®Ah? Is that new prey?¡¯

    Her eyes caught sight of a person, wearing an odd hood with animal ears.

    ¡®Perfect. A slave of those idiot Gods. Face divine judgement¡¯

    She dove down, missing an arm, on the sister who was kneeling in front of the corpses, praying.

    ¡°She¡¯s keeping Dreyfascul from finding my offering?! How dare she!¡±

    She descended in front of the sister, who had her eyes closed in deep prayer.

    ¡°Foolish mortal¡±

    Sylvia¡¯s cold voice resounded throughout the slums, and the sister opened her eyes. It widened in shock, seeing the angel standing before her.

    Sylvia was without a doubt, a beauty.

    ¡°God¡­God has sent his angel to see this humble servant?¡±

    She muttered, entranced at Sylvia¡¯s beauty.

    ¡°Die, believing in your fake god¡±

    Sylvia opened her mouth and devoured the sister, like a black hole which was opened. In a second, the entire body of the sister was gone.

    Sylvia¡¯s thigh wound closed a bit, and she smiled pleasantly, like a true angel.

    The moment the sister died, a curtain of darkness fell, covering the slums. The spear of Dreyfascul glowed, and in a moment all the bodies vanished.

    Sylvia knelt on the ground and folded her hands, and gazed up at the sky with teary eyes.

    ¡°Lord Dreyfascul..¡±

    The dark sky pulsed, as if in response, and another bolt of darkness came down, covering Sylvia. When It dispersed, her arm was whole again, and her leg completely healed.

    ¡°Thank you¡­Lord Dreyfascul ¡­¡±

    She muttered her thanks, and with a final pulse, the dark sky cleared.

    Sylvia released her killing intent, which would make even a holy warrior cringe at it.

    ¡°Now¡­to hunt that boy!¡±

    But suddenly, her crisis perception tingled again, alerting her of the large amount of forces heading towards her.

    "Haha... More offerings for our Great God!"

    Sylvia smiled fearlessly, postponing the capture of Nexus for a while.

 Chapter 6: An angel in the woods.

    [Really short chapter this time, since i was a bit short on time. I tried to go more descriptive in this chapter. Hope you enjoy it! Now hop aboard the hatred train! FYI, don''t be fooled by the title :P ]

    ********

    My body was screaming in pain from the physical exertion, but I kept pushing on, to get away from this place even if it meant losing my life. Every inch of my body was telling me to run, and not to look back.

    And so I ran.

    I ran through the alleys and streets of the slums filled with death, trying my best to not look at all the despair that surrounded me.

    My legs beat the soil in a specific rhythm, and running became just moving my feet alternatively in a matter of time.

    That, or I would go mad.

    My mind was an incoherent mass of thoughts, and I couldn¡¯t make heads or tails of what I was thinking about. The only thing that mattered in this world was to run.

    My teary eyes scarcely sensed the change of scenery, from the burning buildings filled with demise to that of greenery and trees. My head somehow worked out, even in its extreme exhaustion, that I had left the slums.

    But my instincts still told me to run, and without stopping, I kept moving. My body felt like it was stuck in a quicksand, pulling me down into its embrace. But I kept moving, resisting the temptation to give into that heavy feeling, which, without a doubt, will grant me the peace I so desire.

    But a voice at the back of my head questions it. It raises the suspicion that I couldn¡¯t hide. A lot of people died there. But why didn¡¯t I?

    I could die at any moment. The feeling filled my body, getting rid of the need to rest and give into fatigue. The desire for survival overtook my tiredness, and my feet kept pounding the dry soil, and the scabs and wounds opened up. With bloody footprints, I ran. I ran without stopping, for running is my only solace.

    I couldn¡¯t see what was in front of me. My face was a teary mess, and my eyes were covered by a film of tears, hindering my vision. My heart pounded wildly as sweat rolled down my forehead, but I didn¡¯t stop.

    More like, I couldn¡¯t stop.

    I stumbled on a root and crashed into the ground. The dull feeling of pain wasn¡¯t registered in my head, and all I did was get up again, just like a machine and run.

    The sky turned dark, as dark as the night, and I felt an ominous energy on my back.

    Sounds of battle resounded in my ears, with metal clashing and explosions occurring.

    The sounds bolstered my instinct to run, and inadvertently, I remembered something.

    The sister was there in the slums.

    I hope she¡¯s fine.

    Really, I¡¯m just too pathetic. Even after she branded me as a demon, I can¡¯t help but feel sorry for her. Damn it.

    I wiped my eyes with the soggy rags I wore, and kept pushing forward. Thinking about the sister helped clear my head a little, and I began thinking about my next course of action.

    What do I do now.

    I was in a vast forest, surrounded by trees. None of the animals would attack me, for I knew that their animal intuitions would tell them to run from the black sky.

    As if it responded to my thoughts, an even more deep black stained the already dark sky, as a curtain of darkness raced across the air, towards the place of horrors.

    My pace had slowed down, and I couldn¡¯t run anymore,exhaustion overpowered me, and I kept walking, my mind feeling like a fleeting dream.

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    Every once in a while my consciousness fade, and I got jostled back, shocked by the ground meeting my face. Not stopping, I pushed on, wearily.

    My eyes were heavy, threatening to droop. My limbs felt like stones were tied onto them, and I could barely move myself.

    And then, despair greeted me.

    In front of me, there she stood.

    Her blonde hair was flying wildly in the wind, and her calm but clear eyes bore right through my eyes.

    ¡°P-pegasus¡±

    She was without a doubt, Pegasus. The cloth covering her face was gone, and what was left was an angel. Her beauty was without a doubt, almost godlike, and I could barely hold myself from worshipping her.

    Because I saw.

    I saw the blood that stained her arms, the blood that covered her finger tips.

    It was her.

    Anguish and rage competed in me, in front of this indomitable wall standing in front of me.

    My instincts screamed at me to run away from this monster, while my conscious told me to kill her, in order to avenge them. Why? I don''t know. I just had to, and that was all I knew. They... were the people who gave me an identity. Even if despised, I was someone there. And now, I was no one. I... have to kill her. Because, that might give me purpose. A reason to live.

    ¡°Haaah¡­.¡±

    I sagged against the trunk of a tree, weary with exhaustion. I don¡¯t know what to do anymore. Kill, not kill, run, don¡¯t run, everything seemed meaningless now.

    Once I die, won¡¯t I be free of this hell?

    Death seemed no more as a nightmare to me, but more as salvation. With tender steps, I walked to her. She was beautiful. A horrific beauty.

    Her eyes contained neither compassion nor sympathy, only a compulsion to do what was told.

    A puppet.

    I, Nexus, was prepared to be killed by a puppet.

    A puppet who killed every one i knew.

    A puppet who killed the people who gave me an identity.

    And I was going to have her kill me.

    Don¡¯t fuck with me!

    The rage and emotions I locked away exploded, flooding my head. My delirium instantly vanished, replaced by an irremovable hatred.

    Kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill

    This bitch, I had to kill her!

    I struggled to raise my hand, tiredness holding me down, just to grasp her neck and twist it.

    I don¡¯t care if I have to die.

    I was meant to die anyways.

    I¡¯ll give anything, everything, in order to just kill her. Just to show her despair. To wipe that smug look off her face. Anything. Even this worthless life.

    Hatred took over my mind, and something seeped out of me. Something dark and ominous. A black aura that could even take over the brightness of a sun.

    My instincts told me to stop, in order to stop the aura from moving out of me, but every emotion and instinct of mine was already replaced by rage.

    By a corrosive, fearsome rage.

    My vision blurred, and everything appeared red.

    No, to me, nothing appeared. Nothing except that woman.

    Only her.

    I need to kill her.

    No matter what.

    My prey.

 Chapter 7: A Berserk Rage

    The sky was as bright and clear as it could be, and it was a great day for anyone and everyone to enjoy themselves. The white and whimsical clouds floated high in the sky, as if untouched by the worries of the earthlings. The sun showered its bright and vibrant light onto the ground, urging everyone to wake up and enjoy another beautiful day.

    But all this beauty was merely a fa?ade on that day, on the 5th of Moonshadow, indescribable despair plagued the lands of Arialis continent, death was prevalent in the outskirts of the small but powerful kingdom of Gureis.

    A few miles off the eastern walls of the Gureis, there was a huge system of slums, that had taken root so long ago that removing it was plainly impossible. The kingdom allowed it to exist since it didn¡¯t cause them any inconvenience, but denied any and all monetary help in order to prevent the slums from growing too much.

    But, on that fateful day, the slums which were supposed to be like a cockroach, was razed to ashes. The slums was attacked by a single demon, but a powerful one. Sylvia Zoltive, one of the generals of the current demon army.

    For an unknown reason, every resident was sacrificed to an Evil god, forever cursing the land of Gureis.

    A holy warrior was sent, with Liugee¡¯s sword in order to eliminate the demon, but alas, even the warrior was met with nothing but death.

    Fearing this, the kingdom had already dispatched a band of the elite knights of Gureis, in order to destroy the demon that existed there, just as backup.

    In the Gureis kingdom, within the royal chamber.

    ¡°My king¡±

    A man wearing a monocle and robes that could only be called flashy, embroidered with gold like threads, bowed before the royal throne. His hair had thinned on the top of his head, and what was left of his light brown hair were already almost nonexistent.

    ¡°This is no time for courtesies, minister, report what happened!¡±

    A harsh voice resounded from the throne, originating from a man, who could only be called a pig. His body was as fat and pudgy like a plump pig, and his face was as disgusting as his figure. The king of Gureis, His highness Maltrok Ignatyus.

    ¡°Yes my king. Arthiras has fallen¡±

    ¡°What?! Arthiras has? Damn it, that¡¯s why I asked the Emperor to dispatch a human, not a dwarf!¡±

    The king spat, disgust mixed in his voice.

    ¡°What of the knights, minister?¡±

    The minister looked troubled, and hesitated to answer the question of his king.

    ¡°Minister, what of our knights?¡±

    ¡°Th-they were exterminated your majesty. And¡­ they were offered upto the Evil gods.¡±

    ¡°What?! The elite knights were sacrificed?!¡±

    ¡°It appears so, your majesty¡±

    The minister was sweating profusely. He was already the 14th of his post, for his predecessors were all executed for silly reasons by this whimsical and foolish king.

    ¡°It appears so?! It appears so?!!! ¡°

    A vein bulged in the king¡¯s forehead, as he yelled at the nervous minister. Taking a deep breath, he calmed down, and continued his questioning.

    ¡°What of the demon?¡±

    ¡°It seems to have disappeared, your majesty¡±

    ¡°Disappeared? Where?¡±

    ¡°We do not know. The entire area of the slums is devoid of life¡±

    ¡°Where is that demon¡­.!¡±

    The king muttered to himself, scared for his own life. For if the demon wanted to kill him, he would be dead already.

    But the pig of a king did not know, that just outside the forest, the demon he so feared stood, before an existence of pure malevolence.

    ¡°The curse of hatred¡­ To think it would manifest in it¡±

    The demon muttered, her clear voice piercing through the silence of the forest.

    She was in a dilemma, for the target of her mission, the current prince of Ascalon, was taken over by a curse.

    In front of her, stood a boy.

    His figure suggested he was almost 14 years old. A boy so young.

    But now, that boy was no longer there.

    All that remained was hatred.

    A corrosive rage.

    He stood there, his entire body oozing a black and noxious looking miasma. His long black hair waved around wildly due to the amount of miasma gushing out.

    His eyes were black, with his pupils red. The standard state of someone taken over by a curse.

    The berserk state.

    ¡°KAKAKAKAKAKA!!!¡±

    He, no, it, began laughing, its voice one like that of a demon crawling up from hell.

    ¡°Kiilllll¡­youuu.u¡­¡­ Why¡­.killl¡­.¡±

    It muttered incomprehensible words, all the while leaking the miasma from its mouth.

    The beautiful angel that stood before it gazed at it, figuring out a way to subdue it, in order to finish her mission.

    ¡®What a weakling. With these many openings, I could kill it a hundred times over.¡¯

    She thought, gazing at the weak posture of the berserk child.

    Suddenly, as if on a silent signal, he moved.

    It darted straight at the woman, and she stepped back lightly. The hands which came towards her throat missed her by mere inches.

    It didn¡¯t stop, and started moving its other hand, in a continuous arc, growling.

    She kept stepping back, avoiding all the blows. She tried to figure out a way to knock it out, sealing her victory.

    But such thoughts didn¡¯t run in the mind of the child, for it wanted only to kill the woman.

    ¡°Killl¡­¡­¡±

    It muttered and growled, sending the miasma at her.

    The miasma sharpened, turning into spikes, heading towards her.

    She swung her hand, and a powerful gust of wind sent them all off course.

    The spikes impaled the ground, immediately turning it black.

    ¡®Corruption huh? Should have expected that¡¯

    The woman stayed on the defensive, still unperturbed by the animal rushing at her.

    The boy swung his arm again, and just like before, she was about to step back.

    But suddenly, the miasma shot out, sealing her movements. She raised her hands, prepared to take the blow and counter it. But, contrary to her expectations, the boy moved wildly, and swung his leg from the lower left, swinging it at unbelievable speeds.

    She barely blocked the move with her elbow, but the miasma once again moved, this time towards her thigh.

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    It pierced through, dyeing the ground with her blood. She winced in pain, but angered by the insect before her wounding her, she hit him in the face sending him flying.

    He crashed into a tree, raising dust and sending the tree crashing down.

    But, before she could follow up with her attack, numerous spikes, shot out from the dust, like pillars.

    ¡°Metal skin¡±

    She muttered something, and her skin gained a metallic sheen. The spikes collided against her skin, and were deflected. She moved towards the boy, intent on finishing him off.

    Suddenly, she was met with a dull pain behind her head. Caught off guard, she stumbled forward, and rolled upright.

    ¡®When did he?!¡¯

    The boy was there, his eyes gleaming red like blood.

    She raised her hands and shot out a few balls of fire, almost 50 cm in diameter.

    The miasma condensed around him, forming a shell.

    The fireballs collided and exploded, causing a tree to catch fire.

    ¡®He¡¯s getting stronger every moment?! I need to finish this fast!¡¯

    But she could not do so, since killing him would fail her mission.

    But she decided to up the ante, and prepared her dark energy.

    The boy moved, sensing her intentions. He got right next to her, and immediately aimed a kick at her temple. The woman caught the leg, and twisted it, smashing him into the ground.

    As if not feeling the pain, he immediately turned, turning his leg a whole 180 degrees, and caught her head with his hands.

    His claw like hands dug into her flesh, and before she could extricate herself, he moved his other leg towards her nose.

    His knee cap collided with her nose bridge, and she crashed into the ground a few times. She got up, her angelic face bloody.

    ¡°That¡¯s it, kid, Come, Bolthiras!¡±

    A dark bolt of lightning descended, covering her. Ignoring it, the boy went rushing into the dark lightning. He collided against it, and was pushed back. Disregarding it, he kept attacking the dark pillar, and was pushed away continuously. His leg was dangling like a broken toy, but he paid no heed to it.

    Then, the pillar expanded, and pushed him away forcefully. Out of it, the woman emerged. Her eyes were no longer filled with joy, no longer did she feel the boy was an insect. It was an enemy. An enemy she had to bring down.

    Her body was covered by a wet suit like cloth, dark as the night. It was covered by red lines, which pulsed, like a heartbeat. Her legs and arms were covered by an even thicker layer and on the sides of her hands and feet were curved blade, exuding a dangerous atmosphere.

    Like an illusion, she vanished. The boy was sent flying, unable to understand what had happened.

    He was thrown like a ragdoll into the sky, and before he could make sense of what was happening, his chest met with a powerful blow. His eyes caught sight of a blurry figure.

    *BOOOOOM*

    A dust cloud was raised into the sky, as the boy crashed down in to the ground.

    His body was mangled, like a broken doll, but without any consideration for his injuries, he got up and crouched down.

    The miasma shot out of him, like an enormous network of tendrils, covering the entire scenery, skewering the trees and leaving large holes in them. It was an area based attack, in order to take out the woman.

    But the woman reappeared right in front of him, and she delivered a powerful kick onto his chin, the blade cutting through his chin like it was butter.

    Blood spurts, but he doesn¡¯t stop, and the tendrils change targets, aiming to capture her.

    She twists like a tornado, and cuts apart every one of the tendrils. The tendrils don¡¯t stop, and keep assaulting her, like a river. And like the rock that stops the river, she continued to defend against the barrage.

    It turned into battle of attrition. But, the high speed movement of the tendrils and her blades created violent gusts of winds, gouging the ground and tearing apart the land.

    The woman wins the match, the tendrils faltered for a moment. Grasping this chance, lightning bursts forth from the woman, singeing the earth and burning the tendrils.

    The boy keeps moving, as if nothing had happened, limping at her with his single leg.

    Deciding that she had to seal his movement, she extends her hand.

    A huge greatsword emerges out of the darkness, and the woman grasps its hilt. The corrupted sword of Liugee thrums with the great inflow of darkness, and she swings it.

    *KAROOOOMMMMM*

    A huge shockwave arises, annihilating half of the forest. Convinced of her victory, she puts the sword back, and prepares to dispel her armor.

    But, out of the dust, a figure shoots out, a boy without legs. His eyes were maddened with rage, and caught the woman off guard.

    ¡°Wh-Wha?!!¡±

    Her retort was cut short, as he grasps the head of the woman, and with brute force, tears it apart. She screams in agony, her face covered in blood. With his hands, he digs into her head, and relishes in her blood. She keeps screaming, unable to  bear the pain.

    He opens his mouth and bites at her neck, the red blood dyeing his throat. The woman died at this point, but he keeps at it, as if he had lost all of his reason. Like an animal, he tears apart the entire body of the woman, until all that¡¯s left is a mangled mess of blood and bones.

    At each gash he creates, the miasma disappears, bit by bit. His face covered with intense pleasure, he keeps tearing the flesh that was left behind.

    As if tired, the beast finally stops, and keeps its hand half raised, as if in a stupor.

    Suddenly, the boy slumps, and the miasma vanishes, as if it never existed. His wish had been granted. The woman, his prey, had been killed.

    The forest turned silent, after the violent battle of the two.

    Then, out of the ravaged forest, a silhouette emerges.

    ***********************

    [A few questions, since i''m still new at this. Should i rate this novel as mature content, since i think there''s plenty of gore in it? Or is it ok with just this much? Seriously, i have no idea, so please help me out.]

 Chapter 8: No 17

    Wh-wh-where am I?

    Slowly, my mind began waking up, as if it were in a deep sleep. My entire body feels heavy, and my mind feels sluggish.

    What¡­happened?

    I struggled to remember what had happened, but my brains couldn¡¯t grasp any memories. My body felt weak and frail, almost ten times than before.

    Then, suddenly, I remembered. The woman. The deaths. The blood. I started trembling when I remembered it, remembering my need to kill that woman, tear her into bits. Then, new memories flooded into my head, my hands tearing into her body, my teeth tearing out her larynx, her blood staining my body, and spurting out like a fountain.

    An indescribable joy filled me when I remembered her screams of pain, her face of anguish. That¡¯s right¡­I had given up everything, everything I had in order to just kill her.

    Maybe this is the afterworld. I see, I¡¯m dead huh.

    My mind began to slowly clear up, like the morning fog lifting from the ground. I faintly began remembering the battle, the aura that had surrounded me. It had made me strong, empowered me enough to just get her killed. I tried to connect to that same power, but to no end. It was as if I never had it, the aura had vanished.

    Slowly, tenderly, I opened my eyes, in order to find out where I was.

    ¡®Bright!!¡¯

    The thought filled my head, when a bright white light entered my eyes, hindering my sight. My eyes began tearing up when the luminescence entered, and I closed my eyes quickly, unable to bear.

    For a while, I began opening and closing my eyes, in order to get used to the bright light.

    Then, bleakly, my eyes adjusted to it, and I could see.

    I could see that I was in a room, and there were numerous silver colored tables before me. The entire room was white, including the walls and the ceiling. Except at the wall in front of me. Only there, a huge glass layer stood, a see through glass layer. But the bright light of the room stopped me from seeing through to the other side.

    I slowly began to take notice of my body. I was standing upright, my body was pressed up against something hard. It was flat, and a chill ran through my back due to the cold feeling it gave.

    My arms were wrapped up in something, something sturdy and tight, preventing me from even moving them. They were suspended, raised above my head.

    My neck was also fixed to something, making it so that I couldn¡¯t even turn my neck, and I was stuck on to that board, crucified, to be exact.

    The thing that shocked me was,

    ¡°My¡­.legs¡±

    I muttered horrified. I couldn¡¯t feel my legs! Wh-wh-what happened?! I struggled to turn my head in order to check my legs, but to no avail. My legs couldn¡¯t be moved, as if they weren¡¯t there from the start.

    Is this the price I had to pay in order to kill that bitch? If it is, I don¡¯t mind. Although, it would have been better for me to die.

    My heart tinged with pain when I remembered the deaths that occurred, and I bit my lips, to prevent sorrow from taking over me.

    What am I to do now?

    I tried to shift my train of thoughts, in order to understand what I am supposed to do.

    Then, at the corner of my eyes, I saw a part of the wall disappearing, and someone walked in.

    ¡°Ara? You¡¯re awake now?¡±

    A clear voice enters my ears. Male, I guessed. The man had a voice that was like the devil¡¯s,  soft and believable.

    The voice of footsteps echoed across the room, as the man walked towards me.

    He was quite tall, almost 3 meters, with jade green hair. A pair of spectacles covered his eyes, and it reflected the brightness of the room, hiding his eyes. He had a face that would make women swoon for him, with finely detailed cheekbones and lightly full lips, the tips of which were curled upwards, in an almost deceiving smile.

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    I stared, suspiciously at the man before me, who was also staring at me.

    I realized that I was naked. Stark naked, except for a loincloth covering my nether regions. When I realized it, the man¡¯s stare became uncomfortable for some reason, and my instincts screamed at me to cover myself from the stare of this man.

    ¡°So, do you remember anything?¡±

    The man asked me, pushing up his spectacles with his forefinger, revealing his bright jade like eyes. His eyes were filled with curiosity, as if I were a newly obtained toy. Maybe I was.

    ¡°Who¡­.¡±

    I could only mutter those words, and my throat gave out before I could speak anymore.

    ¡°I ask the questions here, little lamb. Do you remember anything?¡±

    The threatening lines and the cheerful demeanor immediately made me wary of this stranger, and I nodded, showing my affirmation.

    ¡°Do you know me?¡±

    ¡°¡­N¡­o¡±

    I whispered, my throat feeling dry.

    He smiled, and replied.

    ¡°I am Augustus Zoltive, The Professor! This, is my wonderful facility, the Cradle!¡±

    He exclaims, extending his arms as if he were proud of this place. Wait, Zoltive? My wariness increased to another level as I stared at this suspicious man.

    ¡°Nex¡ª¡°

    Before I could introduce myself, he raised his arm, stopping me.

    ¡°Here, you are only No 17. Nothing more, nothing less. Names are unneeded for you¡±

    He smirked, and walked towards the table.

    ¡°Now, do you know what we are going to do?¡±

    ¡°I..don¡¯t¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you know about the human¡¯s ¡®Bloodline creation project¡¯?¡±

    He asks me, picking up a small silver blade, which had a curved edge, which looked really sharp. He

    ¡°Yes¡±

    ¡°The pitiful humans tried to create the power of our Great Demon Lord, in order to increase their war potential. But, they have failed, for they do not know the true nature of the Demon Lord¡±

    He continues speaking, examining the blade of the small knife like instrument.

    ¡°For, the true power of the Demon Lord lies in his blood, a secret buried in your veins.¡±

    He gestures to me, and begins walking up to me.

    ¡°Wh-what?¡±

    ¡°We, shall create another version of you, a smarter and stronger one. In other words, we shall make you strong, and kill you. Then use the data obtained in order to re create our beloved Demon Lord!¡±

    He begins walking up to me, blade in hand. His steps resounded in the huge white space, echoing. Those steps filled me with dread, but all I could do was just stay like that, pressed against this board.

    ¡°So, please comply with us, our guinea pig¡±

    Smiling sweetly, he stabs the blade into my heart.

    Huh?

    ¡°GUFU!¡±

    I spat the blood out, and look down at my chest. A fountain of blood sprouts, staining the silver edge of the blade.

    Haaah¡­So this is the price I had to pay huh¡­Fine.. I¡¯ll comply.

    Thinking so, my consciousness fades, and I can faintly feel the blade being pulled out.

    ¡°It¡¯s time to begin, No 17!!¡±

    [Note: The blade The professor had is a pseudo scalpel, FYI]

 Chapter 9: The experimentation

    The spectral white bird fluttered into the huge chamber through the wide mahogany doors. The man, noticing the messenger bird, raises his hands, and the bird, just like a ghost, dispersed into a silvery mist, which covered the hand of the man, and the man closed his eyes in concentration. His wrinkled face contorted, as if receiving unpleasant news.

    He swung his expensive looking robe with a fwoosh as he walked towards the doors. His aged face looked as if it were delving into a serious problem.

    ¡°The council is summoned¡±

    The man muttered, and another spectral bird, this time one of gold, formed from the flames he released from his palm.

    ¡°To think she would appear here¡±

    The Emperor of Arialis continent, Alsaire Kyagruyock murmured, exasperated.

    ****************************

    Time, space, all of it has been lost.

    What time is it? Where am i? For all of these questions, I can only show you my empty palms.

    For even I don¡¯t know what is going on.

    I was suspended in some aquamarine fluid inside a huge glass cylinder, various tubes attached to my body. I could breathe even inside the water for some reason, but inside the cylinder, I could only think.

    My entire body was immobilized, and I couldn¡¯t even shift a finger. Thankfully, I could see, but the little bubbles from my mouth blocked my view. My body kept breathing as if it were only natural, and I had no control over it.

    My long black hair floated in to my vision, and I started counting the strands of hair that appeared, since that was all I could do.

    It has been some time since I came to ¡®The Cradle¡¯ as he called it, and I only know that it¡¯s been some time. For ever since I came here, I was submerged, along with the crucifying apparatus, into this fluid. These experiments might not be so bad after all.

    I could feel that several days had passed, since I could count that the length of my hair had increased, considerably. I had cut it short a few weeks back, but now it was growing again, beyond shoulder length, I presume.

    I can only guess, since my hair floats around, like kelp.

    Then, something happens.

    The ¡®tentacles¡¯ that were piercing my skin detached, and a little bit of red fluid leaked out, dying the aquamarine fluid in a colorful pattern.

    *FWAAASHHH*

    I could hear the sound of gas escaping, and suddenly, the board that I was tied to rose upwards, yanking me along with it.

    ¡°Puhaaa!¡±

    I breathed out, relieved to take in fresh air. I could breathe in the liquid, but it felt like drinking water through my nose. Really weird.

    My hair dripping wet, I raise my eyes, glancing at the Professor, who was surveying me.

    He beckons, and the board moves forward, towards him.

    His face comes close to mine, and he stares at everything. Then he extends his hands and pulls my ears, checking inside it. Then he pulls down my lower eyelid, to check my eyeball.

    Then without warning, he stabs his thumb through the area under my eyeball.

    Blood spurts out, and my vision turns bloody.

    ¡°Guaaa!¡±

    I yell, shocked by the sudden pain. He continues his job, disregarding my shriek of pain.

    ¡°Hm¡­ amount of blood released is unsatisfactory. Keep him in the deprivation tank. We need to fatten him up more. His bodily tissues are lacking¡±

    The professor talks, but nobody except me is in the room. And I was in no condition to listen to his babbling, as I was currently gritting my teeth about the sudden wound in my eye.

    The board moves up, and plunges down into the cylinder again. Something shuts above me, and my vision turns blue again. A red layer surrounds my wounded right eye.

    Then, suddenly, a stinging pain greets me in several parts of my body. The tentacles pierce my body again, and rather than remaining as such, something flows into me.

    I try to peek at the tentacles, and barely catch one in my sight. It was glowing, with a brownish tinge.

    It was injecting something into me.

    Something that¡¯s strengthening me. IS this food?

    I could only think that towards the nourishment given to me.

    The pain fades, and my body turns numb, with all my senses rendered useless.

    Haaah¡­It¡¯s better to sleep now, I guess.

    *******************

    ¡°Why have you summoned the council, emperor?¡±

    A man with a well muscled appearance questions the old man. He looked quite fierce, with his maroon hair and eyes. There was a scar running down his chin, one from the result of another of his great battles.

    ¡°A messenger came from Gureis¡±

    The old man replied, his orange eyes filled with worry.

    ¡°Gureis? That small time country? What of it?¡±

    A woman asks him this time, an aged woman. Pointed ends peek out of her thick blue hair, and she looked quite young. But her youthful appearance only hid her age.

    ¡°Syriel, it is her¡­ The Pegasus¡±

    ¡°The Pegasus?!¡±

    The woman exclaims, shocked. The others in the room also had shocked expressions, their eyes filled with surprise.

    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.¡°Pegasus?! But she hasn¡¯t appeared ever since the fall of Ascalon! Why appear now?¡±

    A handsome man, almost in his thirties, spoke. His platinum blonde hair was brushed back, and he wore a luxurious coat, befitting that of a noble.

    ¡°It is true¡­ She had appeared, and given a sacrifice, it seems¡­ The lands of Gureis have been corrupted.¡±

    The old man muttered, his wrinkles darkening.

    ¡°We have to eliminate her!¡±

    This time, a small girl spoke. She looked about 6 years old, wearing a witch¡¯s traditional three cornered hat and a cute outfit. The hat hid her blue hair, as she stared at the old man.

    ¡°We cannot move now. The aggressiveness of the remnants shall not allow us to waltz away and kill a demon general. Besides, it seems she has vanished. So tracing her won¡¯t be child¡¯s play.¡± (Emperor)

    ¡°But letting her roam free?! Unacceptable! Have you softened that much, Als?!¡± (Red head)

    ¡°Of course not! But what do we do?¡± (Emperor)

    ¡°Send someone to kill her ofcourse¡± (Loli)

    ¡°Someone strong enough to kill one of the generals?¡± (Elf)

    ¡°Haaah.. This is the perfect opportunity.¡± (Thirties guy)

    ¡°What do you mean, Albion?¡± (Emperor)

    ¡°I told you about the ones I trained. Send them. They shall make great examples out of the demon¡¯s remnants¡± (Thirties guy)

    ¡°Your <Dragon Warriors>?¡± (Elf)

    ¡°Yup. They shall show you their prowess in this mission¡± (Albion=Thirties guy)

    ¡°I see. Maybe that is correct¡± (Loli)

    ¡°Then, I shall dispatch three of the Dragon commanders. Will that be enough?¡± (Albion)

    ¡°I don¡¯t feel secure enough. Send a hero too.¡± (Red head)

    ¡°A hero?! ¡° (Albion)

    ¡°It is as you say, Zeltris. Who shall we send?¡± (Emperor)

    ¡°How about the new one? He shows great potential¡± (Loli)

    ¡°Itsuki, eh? Well, he did have some abilities to back up his title as hero¡± (Elf)

    ¡°Then, it¡¯s decided. We shall dispatch the hero Itsuki, and three of Albion¡¯s Dragon commanders.¡± (Emperor)

    ¡°Umu, that¡¯s good¡± (Red head)

    ¡°Gunununu¡± (Albion)

    ¡° Very well then. The council is adjourned¡± (Emperor)

    ****************

    ¡°GUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA¡±

    I could only scream in despair as the sharp spikes bore into my body, like teeth biting into me. I bore with it, but soon I could no longer bear it.

    My blood was spraying like mist, and those people stood there, just watching. Several of those tentacles were stuck onto me, drilling into my body.

    They stopped, finally. I could feel holes even in my bones.

    Then, something entered my body.

    Originating from the spots those tentacles pierced, a hot something spread, like a viscous liquid.

    It was swelteringly hot, and I thrashed about, unable to break the pain. The something kept spreading, like molten metal in my body. I could feel it, slowly spreading through my abdomen, into my now healed legs¡ª

    They had healed my legs, since without it, complete analysis couldn¡¯t be completed, it seems.

    The molten metal slowly dragged itself through my body, inching closer and closer towards my brain. My body felt like it was breaking, and I tried everything in my power to prevent it from reaching there.

    Moments later, it did.

    ¡°UGYAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!¡±

    I yelled, screamed, shrieked and thrashed about. My blood felt like it was boiling, my head felt like it was being pierced by stakes. My vision darkened, and blood flooded my eyes. I could feel it leaking from my ears, my nose, and even from under my long nails.

    I wanted to die. I really wanted  to die. This was cruel. Even if I gave up everything, this was just too cruel. The pain broke my body into bits, every single day. They had done this almost three times a day, forcefully injecting this lava into my body. And at every new try, the lava got hotter and hotter.

    Relief came to me when I felt the board move. Yes, put me in the cylinder. Please.

    The cylinder cut off the pain, and little by little, I started looking forward to being submerged. In order to escape the pain.

    The familiar blue surrounds me, and I comfortably close my eyes¡­ Yes¡­ it feels good¡­.

    ******************

    ¡°Prepare the teleport gate!¡±

    The old man roared, his tension nearing its limits. Before him, the people were running about, in a hurry to prepare the teleport gate to get to Gureis as quickly as possible.

    He glanced at the selected party for the ¡®Pegasus hunt¡¯. A hero, Itsuki Tachibana. The hero was summoned merely 3 months ago, but the ability he had shown was outstanding.

    Next to him, three people, all clothed in black stood. Their armor seemed to suck in light, and they looked around with their bright vermillion eyes.

    The draconians, for that is what their race was, swung their reptilian tails around restlessly as if they were nervous.

    The emperor returned his attention to the construction, and kept yelling, in order to complete the task, even if it was a second quicker.

    Pegasus, that horrific demon¡­..

 Chapter 10: The Events that Transpired...

    ¡°Ugwaa¡­..Hurk¡­.¡±

    I gasped and groaned, from the new torture ¡®The Professor¡¯ had devised. Their lava was now in my body, the indescribable pain still tearing apart my entire physique like bomb inside my system. But the thing that hurt wasn¡¯t that.

    I was half standing in the white room, free from the board. They had injected the lava and let me walk.

    I staggered. But kept walking. Left leg first. Right leg next.  Step by step, I kept walking, to god knows where.

    I had already given into the pain, my mind was no longer functioning. All that mattered was to bear the pain, and listen to the orders. Like a good kid. Nothing will happen if that was what I did.

    My personality was mostly erased, and my purpose was as clear as day for me. To become an example. To become a guinea pig. A stepping stone for Ascalon¡¯s real ruler.

    The feeling has been burned into my  mind, and I¡¯m not gonna forget it anytime soon. I don¡¯t care if they want to make me such a thing. I had already gotten what I desired. Her death by my hands. And what a fine kill it was. This is the price to pay, and I¡¯ll gladly pay it.

    Which brings us to the present.

    I stood there, almost down, but held up by his hand. The Professor¡¯s hand. My body felt weak, I couldn¡¯t stand. The burning feeling was in the backdrop of my mind. It was mind breaking, but I didn¡¯t care.

    Then, he began. He waved his other hand, and three needles came. Needles? No stakes. A 3 cm thick and 10 cm long white stake. He closed his fist, and it drove into my head.

    Pain. Unbearable pain. But the professor kept my mouth shut, preventing me from screaming. With a claw like grip, he was one step away from crushing the lower half of my face.

    The stakes dug into my head, feeling the resistance from my skull. Slowly, bit by bit, it inched closer and closer to my cerebral matter.

    I felt like clawing my head out, and tried to move. No good. He shut my mouth, and the lava limited my body to trembling, and nothing more. I stood there, immobile, burning on the inside and a stake digging into my head.

    It pierced through, and touched my brain.

    Like the spreading of cracks, a dozen bright cracks of light flooded my mind. The needles. They kept spreading, causing unbearable pain. And the fact that I couldn¡¯t move my body just increased the pain.

    Bit by bit, it erased my emotions, my personality, my thoughts. The cracks kept spreading, like cobwebs.

    Then like glass shattering, the dark wall fell, and light flooded into my system.

    I realized it. I was no more. The person called Nexus Zoltive was erased. I was nothing but an empty shell.

    Dimly, I recognized the needles working in my brain. I see.

    Something, with four long things and a huge central something stood, one of its long things was gripping something above my head.

    A new wave of memories headed into my mind. I see, this man is my master eh.

    My name¡­. is?

    ** **, the light answered. ** ** huh. A strange name. Why is it strange? I don¡¯t know why.

    The light burned brighter, creating newer memories.

    Hm¡­ I¡¯m the pawn of my master. The great professor will use me to create a better me. I see. I¡¯m thankful to my great master. Ascalon shall be revived.

    I shall put up with all the pain. I shall listen to every order and command of my master. This, I swear upon my name ** **.

    I repeated the lines the white light said. This white light is my master¡¯s proxy. This white light is the best light.

    What am I to do now, master?

    I looked expectantly at my great master, who was pondering while looking at me. Yes, my great master is looking at me. I feel so happy.

    I, No 17 feel so happy.

    ******************

    ¡°This is¡­ horrible¡±

    A youth muttered, looking at the plague like lands before him.

    The entire area was burned to the ground, with Infernal flames burning.

    The youth was about 16 years old, with short black hair and black eyes. A rare combination in Legisis. He wore thin but strong armor, a gold one with silver stripes on it. It glowed with a faint light, befitting of a holy armament. At his back a sword was strapped, its scabbard suggested that it was a bastard sword. On the scabbard, several inscriptions were inscribed.

    The hero of the Kwagruyock Empire, Itsuki Tachibana, stood atop the eastern walls of the Gureis kingdom, surveying the disaster strike zone in the slums.

    Slums? There wasn¡¯t anything except ruins here.

    ¡°A mighty demon struck here. Or a magic scroll¡±

    A man, robed in black, said to the hero. He wasn¡¯t a man, but a beastkin. One of the strongest, the proud race of the Draconians.

    Another sniffed the air, and commented.

    ¡°Without a doubt, a sacrifice was given here. Such a vile aura. Will a clergy be able to purify this sort of a curse?¡±

    His rough voice fell in the ears of the hero, and he made up his mind.

    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°We need to hunt her down as soon as possible. Ssral, any leads?¡±

    He questioned the third draconian, who immediately crouched down, his hand pressed down on the earth. He listened to the murmurs of the earth, and then spoke.

    ¡°The earth is scared. The trails are long gone. It has been a long time since the disaster after all¡±

    ¡°I see. No luck huh¡±

    ¡°It is not so. The earth says that there is another spot, a mile east of here, inside the forest. The ground there has been corrupted by¡­ something. It seems a great battle had occurred.¡±

    ¡°I see it.¡±

    The second draconian spoke, seeing into the horizon. His vermillion eyes glowed, as he used the skill ¡®Eagle eyes¡¯.

    ¡°You see it? How is it, Ssriel?¡±

    ¡°The ground is destroyed, and a lot of trees uprooted. A great battle took place there. I can see quite a few trees have turned black from the corruption. The black far surpasses this measly corruption¡±

    ¡°What?! A stronger curse?! We need to destroy those trees! Let¡¯s head over now!¡±

    ***************

    ¡°My king! I have urgent news to report!¡±

    The minister spoke, panting heavily. The king was having his ¡®pleasure¡¯ time with some slaves. Irritated, he answered.

    ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°We have a possible lead!¡±

    ¡°A lead?!¡±

    The entire demeanor of the king changes, and he throws the woman who was pleasuring him into the wall,  with superhuman strength.

    ¡°Yes, your majesty! Do you remember the bastard result of the project?¡±

    ¡°Hm? That Nerius or something?¡±

    ¡°Nexus, your majesty. He hasn¡¯t died!¡±

    ¡°What?! The slums were wiped out,right? How did he not die?¡±

    ¡°Maybe he was the demon¡¯s objective, your majesty. But the observation team tried tracking the item they had inserted in him, and they got a signal! A weak one, a few miles east of here, deep in the forest!¡±

    ¡°In the forest? In our kingdom?! Those foul demons! ¡°

    The king closes his eyes and concentrates. He extends his arm, and a silver flame burns. A bird surfaces from it and heads outside the royal chamber, towards the hero.

    ********************

    ¡°The reconfiguration was a grand success. We successfully sealed up his memories, and re wrote his personality.¡±

    The man spoke, his jade like hair gleaming. He flipped through the file in his hands, reading it quickly.

    ¡°Humph. Unnecessary. Why don¡¯t we just kill that filth?¡±

    From the shadows, a voice came, one of a woman¡¯s.

    ¡°We need him to get our prototype. This is so that he doesn¡¯t think of rebelling¡±

    The man replied, still looking at the file.

    ¡°Orthius, how goes the development of the prototype?¡±

    ¡°We have succeeded in Phase one. The pseudo body is completely formed. We need to quickly proceed to Phase two, and begin the modifications. The results from No 17 are spectacular¡±

    A voice that sounded like an animal growling came from the shadows, a voice full of joy.

    ¡°I see. We shall quickly finish the experiments on No 17. The data is almost collected after all. The activation formula worked wonders on it. We gave him a controlled dose, and his body condition has improved greatly. It seems even a mana pool is forming in him. Only traces, but forming nevertheless¡±

    ¡°That is great news! When shall we begin on No 18?¡±

    ¡°Hm, we shall increase the dosage once, to note if there are any problems. Then, we¡¯ll begin on No 18¡±

    ¡°I see. Then how are we going to dispose of that failure¡±

    The woman¡¯s voice came again, irritated from the presence of the boy.

    ¡°Hm¡­ Soon. We shall hold a death match between them, and call General Altrock. Then, we shall show the human king the strength of the demons!¡±

    The people in the room chuckled, happy that their plan was nearing completion.

    ¡°What of the humans?¡±

    The voice of another woman came, this more serious.

    ¡°Hm, Traza has been surveying them, and it seems some reinforcements have arrived¡±

    ¡°Reinforcements?¡±

    ¡°A hero and three unknowns. He also said there¡¯s someone else, who¡¯s hiding their presence¡±

    ¡°A hero eh? Perhaps we should kill the king to warn them?¡±

    ¡°Unnecessary. We need to focus our resources here, in case the humans find this place. There¡¯s a feeling that¡¯s nagging me, so this is best¡±

    ¡°If the Professor says so, then it must be true¡±

    The reply was curt, almost as if the words were quite forced.

    ¡°No no, I did not mean to offend you. Fine. We¡¯ll dispatch some forces towards the foolish king, and we shall show him our might!¡±

    ¡°Umu. That is good¡±

    But little did the Professor know,  that his hunch was right. That dispatching the forces was a grave mistake.

    The events progressed, until the day of the death match.

    On the 17th of Redmoon, the death match began.

 Chapter 11: The Death Match

    Ah¡­.

    My mind felt empty, as I floated in the familiar blue fluid. I see, but what¡¯s a fluid?

    I thought, questioning the words that popped up in my mind often. Some strange words that made no sense, but somehow, they felt familiar, like a long forgotten memory. There, what¡¯s forgotten?

    I floated around in the huge container made of see through walls. It fascinated me. The thing I was in, the fluid, it was obviously moving. It broke when I was put in it. But how is it not falling outside? There were some invisible walls. What¡¯s invisible? Ah, see through huh?

    My mind kept pondering various stuff, as I examined my container. It felt stronger, my mind told me. Why? I don¡¯t know how it was before. I was born with this. My master gave me this container. My¡­master? (Here. No 17 is referring to his body. The container he¡¯s in)

    I begin questioning the existence of master, and suddenly, something zaps me in the head.

    Pain.

    A new word comes to my mind. But I can somehow understand it. It¡¯s that feeling, which doesn¡¯t feel good, for some reason. My mind felt painful. I understood that.

    I tried to move my hand, in order to touch that invisible wall. I couldn¡¯t move at all. No good huh. I want to get out of here.

    Another foreign thought crosses my mind, and I question my reason for such an objective.

    Then, my master calls me, like he always does. Always? Master called me only once before this, and that was to test the painful blessing master wanted to give me. That was what made me stronger.

    I can feel some foreign energy in me. It somehow feels like a part of me, but it somehow feels unnatural. Like remnants of a fog, it floated around in my container.

    After master¡¯s blessing, it got thicker, and I can feel it. Something like a cool liquid, running inside the container I¡¯m in.

    This place is too confusing for me. Maybe my master wants me to learn from these leaks?

    I resolve myself to follow my master¡¯s unspoken orders, as the long wriggly things separate from my container. The red liquid, just a hint of it, comes out.

    A nostalgic scene comes to my mind. What was that?! That wasn¡¯t supposed to be in my head! But, it was true, without a doubt. Just like in the unknown scene, some sound comes from the top of my container. And I get yanked out.

    The long-white-things that are connected to my container are attached to it, restraining me.

    The liquid drips in front of my eyes. I wonder why it falls down? Why does my container feel heavy?

    The cold-hard-flat thing I¡¯m attached to moves forward, taking me along with it. It moves towards the bright white surface that is below me. The things I can see from, feels pain, from seeing it. For an unknown reason, my container forcibly shuts it . I have no control over it. (Translation: MY eyes hurt. Why am i closing them :P )

    The cold-hard-flat thing makes a ¡®clunk¡¯ sound, as it hits the white flat surface.

    Then, to my surprise, a ¡®clink¡¯ sound reaches my head, and my long-white-things fall free.

    My container crashes to the ground, as I¡¯m unfamiliar with this feeling.

    *Pitter patter*

    Some sensation reaches my brain again. Just what is that ?!

    This entire container feels unknown, but strangely familiar. A dangerous feeling enters my head, it makes me feel uncomfortable. But my master gave this to me. How can I reject it?!

    The unnatural actions take hold again, and I press the long-white-things, on the ground, and raise my container to a height.

    Before me, stood my master.

    My dignified and awesome master!

    I wanted to kiss his feet, and bask in his glory. Oh, my master~!

    My feelings for my master feel weird for me, even though it¡¯s perfectly natural. What is wrong with me?!

    My dignified master walks up to me, and beckons me. I walk forward, towards my beloved master.

    Wrong, wrong, wrong.

    These feelings echo in the back of my head, but I ignore them. As soon as I walk upto my master,

    He thrusts his hand forward, and grabs my head. How odd, I could see his movement. I couldn¡¯t react, but I could see it. Better than before. I could see his hand blurring, while last time, it alrea¡ª

    Last time? Before? The foreign thoughts intrude in my mind again.

    Then, the pain hits me.

    A familiar pain, although the data confirms that I have never felt such a thing before.

    Something digs into my head. Against the protective layer around my head. It keeps digging in, and touches whatever is inside it.

    Pain.

    A strange sound escapes my mouth, and I couldn¡¯t stop it. I wanted to do it, and my master disregarded it. My master is really great. Even though he¡¯s the caus¡ª

    Something flows into my head. Memories. Feelings. Foreign data.

    Master lets go of my head, pushing me. I land on the back of my container, and hold my head. It hurts. My mind struggles to make sense of it. But without doubt, I can understand it.

    To hurt, to wound, to kill.

    ¡°No 17¡±

    My master¡¯s voice was like an ancient melody. I kneel, because that is what I am to do. The new memories thought me as such. To kneel before those greater than you. To eat in a dignified manner. I see, my master¡¯s advice huh.

    ¡°Today, we shall be participating in a  great event.¡±

    A great event?

    ¡°Today, you shall face your successor, No 18. You shall fight against him with all your might. You shall revive Ascalon!¡±

    Master declares grandly, spreading his arms. Truly, my master is just too awesome. I understand. For my master, I shall annihilate No 18.

    Suddenly, a hole opens up on the plain white surface, and I feel my container falling down. I can feel something brush past me. An enemy? I flail around, to capture it, in vain.

    As soon as I see another bright light, I roll up my body, that strange feeling taking over again.

    My container hits the hard surface and rolls. Some thing feels painful on my arms, but it quickly disappears. A strange feeling.

    I look up, and see a strange container.

    Like before, it was a huge container with white surfaces all around. And at the opposite end, there was something. A pure white surface. Even brighter than the other surfaces. It gleamed brightly, hindering my vision.

    I could see my container.

    Long black hair that reached my shoulders, a child like body, but well built nonetheless. It was no longer weak and skinny, but thick and smooth. There was something around the lower half of my body, hiding something. I wonder what? But what caught my eyes were the jewels on my face. Those jewels were a mix of red and orange, like a burning flame.

    But, then, I noticed something else.

    Another container stood behind my image. Its hair was black, but shorter, unlike mine. Its physique looked sturdier than mine. How envious.

    Stolen novel; please report.

    It was my container.

    It looked better than me, without a doubt. Then, his voice graced my ears.

    ¡°No 17, meet No 18. No 18, No 17. You are the results of the same project. Be glad! You shall be the stepping stones for Ascalon¡¯s revival!¡±

    Yes, I truly felt glad! Ascalon shall be revived!

    ¡°Today, we shall decide who is better from the two of you! Be honored, the Great Commander, General Altrock is here, gracing you with his presence!¡±

    Altrock? Who¡¯s that? Why would I feel honored with his presence? Only master is the greatest one. Altrock can go die for all I care.

    Today, I shall succeed against him, No 18. I shall kill him, and make my master proud. For pleasing my master is all that matters!

    ¡°Then, let the match begin!¡±

    My master declares, and like my mind told me, I jumped forwards. I twisted around, to keep my eyes on the foe.

    I crouch down, involuntarily. Why? Master¡¯s knowledge told me to run in!

    I couldn¡¯t go against my container. I stayed in the crouched position, waiting for No 18 to move.

    After a long moment, he finally moved.

    I could see it. His legs blurred, and he his figure was heading towards me. I tried to raise my arms, to block against the blow. Too slow. What¡¯s a leg? My mind questioned. But that was not important.

    The leg from his lower half hits my left side, and I could feel something crack. The pain doesn¡¯t matter. All that matters is to please my master!

    I move, in unison with his strike. I step back, and I could sense that that movement negated some of the damage. In the same motion, I grabbed the thinner part of his leg, the part with five more smaller parts.

    Somehow, my container told me to do it. A move I had seen before, but I could not recognize where. My container is really odd.

    I twist his leg, and slam him onto the white surface below. Cracks spread, and something red comes out.

    But No18 can¡¯t be underestimated. The moment I slammed him, he immediately moved his other leg, snaking it around the thin thing below my head.

    The bend comes before me, and he clamps down with his leg.

    Can¡¯t ¡­ breathe!

    I gasp for air, and try to pry his leg off. It was in vain. It was like a steel trap, whatever that was. My eyes felt like they would jump out of my head. Dammit!

    I let go of his leg, too weak to hold on. His face twists into a grin. Shit, I¡¯m going to fail my master¡­.

    As if!

    For some reason, the body automatically took action, and I moved my closed fist towards the connecting spot of the two legs. It would be a critical hit, my mind told me.

    No effect. He stays like that, strangling me.

    Then, I pull my last straw.

    I twist, and it gets my neck turned in a weird direction. Something pops, but I don¡¯t care.

    I grab onto his neck, with the same move as him, except I use both of my legs.

    I move my right leg behind his neck, as support. I use my knee and press down on his throat. Let¡¯s see who can last !

    His eyes bulge, unable to bear with the weight. He flails around, trying to escape. Too late, unless you let go of me, I¡¯ll kill you like this! Master will be pleased!

    Master? What master?

    The moment I think that, pain zaps my head, and I loosen my grip. He uses the opportunity to pry my leg away, and throws me away.

    I roll on the ground, gasping. Air. Precious air.

    I remembered. I had forgotten in the heat of battle, but this was for my precious master!

    I jump back , and dash out. Can¡¯t give him any respite!

    I felt quite tired, but it was ok. I just need to kill him.

    He muttered something, and something surrounded him. A pale green light.

    Suddenly, he vanished.

    My chin hurt.

    I thought that as I saw the ceiling, flying in the air. I sensed what he had done. He dashed forward, and kicked upwards, onto my jaw.

    My body got stunned, for some reason.

    Pain greeted me, like a continuous downpour of rain.

    All across my chest, something blunt hit me. The pain pierced through, and I could feel something getting crushed inside.

    How did he get so strong?!

    With a final push, I flew away, crashing onto the ground. My body hurt all over, like it was broken.

    Ignoring the pain, I roll on to my knees, and stare at him. At my back was the shiny surface.

    He was in the same posture, glaring at me, murderous intent filling his eyes. The pale light had thinned, and he was sweating quite profusely. A temporary power up?

    This, this pain, and this excitement, it gets my heart pounding. I can feel the sweat that¡¯s rolling down my head.

    It is quite enjoyable, this feeling called battle¡­¡­ I¡¯m glad master gave me this opportunity~

    I glare at No 18. I¡¯ll definitely kill him! That fake!

    The moment I think that, foreign voices drift into my head.

    ¡®You fake fuck!¡¯

    ¡®A royal fake, that¡¯s what you are!¡¯

    These unknown voices echo in my head. What, what are they?! My head spasms in pain, and I resist the urge to clutch onto my head.

    Taking this chance, No 18 moves. I was incapacitated, unable to move. My container felt painful, from bruises that weren¡¯t present.

    His kick connects with my chest, and I flew off towards the gleaming surface.

    What is a container?

    I thought, the wind whistling past me as I crashed into the surface.

    It shattered, bright pieces flying in all directions. I looked back, surprised at the sudden effect.

    It was quite beautiful, those bright shards flying in the air.

    Inside was a room, filled people.

    There were three men, and a women, her face half hidden by the shadows. One of the men was seated, his presence was quite oppressive.

    But my eyes wander, reflexively.

    Then I see it.

    That mass of yellow threads from the head. Those azure jewels.

    Like the wall that shattered, the white light in my mind broke into a million pieces.

    And the feeling that welled up in me was familiar; it was like a part of me.

    A raging fire.

    A raging fire that burns only to kill her.

    [NOTE:

    The effect of the brainwashing fades gradually. That''s why he can remember words he never knew. Don''t underestimate the Maou!

    As the chapter progresses, his thoughts get clearer. Like i said, it''s cuz the brainwashing effect gradually disappears.

    The ''familiar move'' and the crouching are from him battles with Sylvia. The move was what she used on him, after which he kneed her in the face. The posture, it''s just from his beastly instincts.]

 Chapter 12: A Stranger Arrives

    ¡°This¡­.what is this?¡±

    Itsuki muttered, his black hair fluttering in the thick winds of the forest.

    The forest was ravaged. Trees lay uprooted, their roots sticking in the air. The leaves were all around, and huge gashes cut the trees. Some were left in halves, other trees missing most of its whole, scattered in the area. The region looked as if a tornado had passed through it. A disheveled mess of nature. The ground was gouged with huge holes, like giant claws had torn through them. The area was lifeless, without a sound. The only that moved there was the wind that blew.

    But that was not the truly horrifying thing.

    The curse.

    ¡°Is this¡­ even a curse anymore?¡±

    No one could correct the words Ssriel spoke, for that was what the land had become.

    Dark black fumes rose up from the pitch black trees. The entire area was filled with air that had a dark tinge to it. It was a strong curse, for it had corrupted the very air.

    ¡°I¡¯ll cast a barrier to protect us¡±

    The third draconian spoke, waving her hands. A blue light left her hands, branching into four, covering each of them in a faint blue aura.

    ¡°Thanks, Sstia¡±

    Sstia lowered her head, in a show of humbleness. But that doesn¡¯t change the current situation.

    They began walking into the corrupted lands, cautious. The land was odd, like a different space. The sky above the space was tinged with a red glow, signifying the strength and potency of the curse.

    ¡°Sstia, you stay here, and set up a purification barrier. We don¡¯t need the curse to spread anymore. We¡¯ll try to find the cause, and return. This seems really bad.

    As soon as the three stepped into the depraved area,  the fumes which rose from the ground assaulted them, covering them up, in order to corrupt and consume. It had an unholy nature, one that would make someone sick, and throw up.

    The fumes clashed against the blue aura, but it was repelled completely. The dark gas coiled around them, trying to find a weakness. They kept walking, quicker than before, in order ascertain the cause as soon as possible.

    The trees were releasing an excessive amount of the smoke. Itsuki used his sword to cut down the trees, In order to prevent the chances of propagation of the cursed trees.

    The area of effect of the curse was quite small, compared to the slum¡¯s cursed lands. But it compensated for the lack of area in its abnormal potency.

    ¡°The earth is dead here. Even the Vein has no effect. It truly is like an isolated space.¡±

    Ssral commented, pulling his robe closer to himself. Beastkin are influenced by their natural instincts, and Ssral was no exception. It would be weirder for him to not feel cautious in this area, where even Dragons would tremble.

    ¡°Heuk! Is that the root of the curse?¡±

    Ssriel gasped, drawing in breath, shocked from the site before him.

    There was blood.

    Lots of blood.

    It lay all around, dying the ground in its dark red dye. In the middle of it, there were bones.

    White bones, that were releasing the same dark fumes, except this being much thicker than the one¡¯s surrounding the area. It had the aura of killing anything that touched it. Some blonde hair could be seen in the midst of all the torn flesh.

    They walked closer to the mangled corpse, minding their surroundings. Itsuki held in his desire to puke from the sight. The draconian were calm, as to be expected from experts trained by Albion, but even they felt a bit intimidated by the cursed atmosphere.

    It was a woman.

    That much was obvious. The long hair already hinted at her gender, but her hourglass like figure, for she was well endowed, made it obvious.

    Ssral bent down, and examined the mangled corpse.

    ¡°Hm¡­ A monster? The neck was bitten into, quite forcefully.  No, it seems to be humanoid. The teeth are more humanoid like. It crushed the larynx, taking away her breath. Well, that¡¯s not a matter anyways.¡±

    Even Itsuki could tell that much. The woman¡¯s head was squeezed, and the top was cracked like a broken fruit. The eyes, were no more than bloody holes, and the body was ravaged.

    The fumes from the body kept trying to eat away at Ssral¡¯s guard, but to no avail. The barrier was quite sturdy, so much so that even such a strong curse was rendered useless.

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    ¡°These gashes on the flesh, they seem to be¡­ from human hands? But some of these were made from something else, and these are cursed, without a doubt. Her hand was torn away, and chewed on¡±

    He said, gesturing at the tattered branch like thing that was at quite a distance.

    ¡°Is this the demon we were supposed to kill? Pegasus?¡±

    Itsuki, questioned, doubt welling up in him. If the boss was already killed, and the kill created such a strong curse, then what kind of monster would the cause be?

    ¡°Hm.. Her ¡®features¡¯ match the description, to an extent.¡±

    True, for a corpse in such a condition, it would be a surprise for him to confirm it.

    ¡°But ,that would be the case, if the body was real¡±

    What?!

    ************************

    A cloaked figure stared back at the group of three who were examining the cause of the curse. But it was sure, that in a short amount of time, they would figure out the true nature of the ¡®corpse¡¯.

    It began moving, the cloak it wore fluttering as it moved heading east, to where the Cradle was.

    It had been by pure chance that the person had heard about Pegasus appearing here, when it was at the Kingdom, bored by the daily life at the palace. The moment the news reached the ears of the person, about the appearance of the demon, he/she had already left, intrigued and excited.

    The figure moved across the forest, following the trail. The trail was not something a normal human, or beastkin could see, the mana trail. The cause of the curse had moved this way, with the person that fought her. Were they in cahoots, or did she kidnap him, was unknown.

    The figure had kept following the hero¡¯s party, since it was best to keep at a distance, and intrude when necessary.

    But now, it had sensed a huge group of enemies approaching, right from where the Cradle was supposed to be. The figure decided to eliminate them, so that the heroes didn¡¯t need to face them.

    As the force of a 200 demons, a formidable unit marched out of the woods, they were met with an unexpected figure.

    A person stood before them, a huge cloak fluttering behind them. The person stood there, arms crossed as if waiting for them. The demons raised their guards, with their hands at the hilt of their weapons, ready to strike down this possible enemy.

    The commander of the demons, Sir Ichirok stepped forwards, wary of the stranger.

    ¡°Who might you be, stranger? What is you-¡°

    It occurred in a flash, that the group was not able to comprehend it.

    Their commander, a valiant person who had lived and breathed in battle, was dead.

    His headless corpse flopped to the ground, and they turned their eyes towards the stranger.

    There was something at his foot. Their commander¡¯s head, frozen with an expression as if he were about to speak something.

    Pure terror captured them. It crawled up their spines, and every instinct told them to run from this, this monster. That they would never survive.

    Yet they stood their ground, not because they were brave, but simply because they couldn¡¯t. Because the figure had released their killing intent.

    A raw killing intent, like that of an animal waiting to eat them up. They could almost see their surroundings warping, their visions fading. The stranger had completely overpowered them, merely with his presence.

    And finally, the figure stepped forward.

    An absolute massacre.

    Those were the most apt words to describe what surrounded the stranger. A graveyard, splattered with blood. A horde of corpses surrounded the person, and they stood unmoving, brushing the blood off of its clothes.

    Every face, every head that could be seen was warped with terror, with misery. At the powerlessness before such a foe. Calling them inferior to it would be an exaggeration, for the person was in a completely different world from them.

    ¡°Tch, I should clean this up before the hero comes around¡±

    The stranger had wiped out the forces from the Cradle, a formidable force  with enough strength to war with an army ten times its size, within 10 minutes.

    ************************

 Chapter 13: An Incomplete Hatred

    ¡°Hou~ He¡¯s not half bad, that No 17¡±

    The Demon General, Altrock Zoltive commented, watching as ¡®No 17¡¯ the test subject for the re creation of the Maou. The roll he pulled off to negate damage was quite good, considering that the No 17 didn¡¯t have much combat experience.

    General Altrock, the Scarred Executioner, as he was popularly known, was a big man, with a huge and beefy figure. His rippling muscles were barely held in by the latex like cloth covering his forearms. He wore a big and bulky armor, which was crimson red in color. His long black hair was let loose, and his clear blue eyes stared directly at No 17, as if not wanting to let him out his sight. His face was filled with scars, new and old, which would make anyone cringe in fear. An appearance worthy to be called as the General of a Demon army.

    ¡°Ou¡­ Quite smart. To lay back and observe rather than attack like an idiot. But there¡¯s some conflict in his movement.. like something¡¯s interfering.¡±

    The battle expert commented, gazing at No 17¡¯s instinctual movements. He cocks an eye towards Augustus, indicating his involvement.

    ¡°I merely gave him some basics on how to fight. Just like the No 18¡±

    The Professor muttered, his eyes facing down. Most were subservient in front of this person, who dominated the battlefield with sheer strength and charisma. Even the Professor wouldn¡¯t want to offend someone so strong.

    ¡°Like No 18? Although from what I can see, No 18¡¯s movements are smooth, as if it were pre programmed. He was waiting for an attack. Waiting. ¡°

    He put extra emphasis on the word, in order to question Augustus. Augustus looked down, grinding his teeth. Of course, he had given No 17 the orders to rush straight in, so that No 18 could do a perfect counter and win. He didn¡¯t want No 17 to win, even if it meant denying the revival of Ascalon. The hatred Augustus held for the humans was so great, that he didn¡¯t want the result of a human project to influence the demons. An irremovable mistrust, that had taken root in his heart.

    Altrock continued to watch the fight, intrigued about how No 17 fought.

    ¡°Haha! Now that¡¯s how you do it! To think he would use a more lethal choke to get rid of the constraint¡­ But, what was that Augustus ? Did you interfere?¡±

    Altrock questioned Augustus yet again, because suddenly, No 17¡¯s face had contorted in pain. But, even Augustus was surprised, and staring intently at the match, leaving the question unanswered. Chuckling, Altrock turned his attention back to the match.

    ¡°There it is again. He clutched his head, as if he were in pain. Oh~to! No 18 moved in. The match is over.¡±

    Altrock spoke so, getting up from the seat he had occupied.

    No 17 crashed against the one way mirror that hid their room, and bright shards shot off into every direction. Altrock fixed his eyes on the boy, whose eyes swept across the room, until stopping on the woman with blonde hair.

    And then, berserk took effect.

    Altrock, who had been in countless battles, had seen the effect of berserk more than a few times. The blackening of the sclera, and the reddening of the iris. A nostalgic scene. Altrock sighed, disappointed that such a great talent had been lost.

    And, for the first time in years, Altrock was surprised. He noticed something different about the boy. The edges of his left eye were being encroached by the curse that had taken root in him. The iris had spots of red on them, but not red.

    ¡°Incomplete¡­ berserk?¡±

    The words from the Professor confirmed Altrock¡¯s suspicions. This boy, he was truly a gem!

    Wha-what?! What am I doing?

    My consciousness snapped back, and I looked around wildly. For some reason, my entire body felt painful, especially my chest. I looked around wildly, trying to find where I was.

    It was a bright room. The walls and the floor reflected a bright light. On the floor, countless shards of glass were scattered, glittering like diamonds.

    Where am I?!

    My head hurts. It feels like it¡¯s splitting. Sensing some people, I look around, and see them.

    A person, wearing red armor, with long black hair. The moment I saw him, terror struck me. My lungs felt like they were going to burst. I couldn¡¯t breathe. What an oppressive aura. But, my eyes moved, drawn in by that waving blonde hair.

    Kill her.

    The voice resounded in my head, echoing again and again.

    Why? Why should I kill her!?

    Just kill her. It¡¯ll be all right.

    What¡¯ll be alright?! Who is she?! What am I doing here?! Where am I ?! Who am I?!

    I noticed something black flowing out of my body. From the pores of my skin, the fumes rose, and I could feel it. It was like a part of me, as if I had expanded like the gas.

    I struggled to keep the aura within me, as I argued with that voice. That voice knows something, my intuition told me. What, I don¡¯t know.

    I don''t know... I don''t know anything... Uaaak!

    Kill the woman. All shall be alright.

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    Urgh¡­!!

    My right eye hurts. My vision is turning red. Something like sand is blowing across my eye, blocking it. It was at the corner of my eyesight, but bit by bit it was growing, threatening to envelop my eye completely.

    I clutched at my eye, and the voice got more garbled. More inhumane.

    Kill. Tear. Eat. Blood good. Flesh tasty.

    Just kill? Will it be all right?

    Kill her. Didn¡¯t you give everything for that?

    The voice replied, sounding clearer than ever. That¡¯s right. It¡¯s her fault. I just need to ki-

    Why?

    ¡°Uaaaaagghh!¡±

    The moment I questioned it, my head felt like it was split open. The pain was unbearable, like something was being weeded out from the center of my head.

    It hurts.. The pain...Make it go away....

    Kill. The pain will go away.

    It will?

    Just kill.

    I looked forward, and half of my vision had turned red. In front of me, someone stood. Black hair, red eyes. He was running towards me, leaking killing intent. He wanted to kill me.

    An enemy.

    Kill.

    Annoying.

    The thoughts crossed my minds, as my hands tore into his chest.  He screamed, but my mind did not register it. My mind was fixated on the beautiful red liquid flowing out of his chest. I plunged both my hands in to his chest, and tore it open. The blood spurted out, drenching my face. It felt good, killing. It gives me peace of mind.

    That¡¯s right. Hate. Kill. Everything for Killing. Hatred shall help you.

    Yes.. The voice is right. I just need to kill. The voice has already disappeared. I pierced through the white cage, and curled my fingers around the beating flesh. It was so fragile.

    I crushed it, and pulled it out. He looked at me, his expression warped with agony.

    Why? Why did I kill him?

    ¡°Kuak!¡±

    The pain bloomed again.My head roared in pain, and the voice barraged me continuously, reminding me.

    I only need to kill. Hate everything.

    But whom should I kill?

    The woman?

    The man?

    The green guy?

    Isn¡¯t it simple?

    Kill everyone.

    I thought that, and my body exploded.

    ***********************

    ¡°Dispel Barrier¡±

    Itsuki watched, as the air shimmered. He gasped, when a pure white building, that looked like a white box appeared, in the middle of the forest. Seemingly out of nowhere.

    ¡°What a strong illusion barrier. I had to use up one of my mana crystals¡±

    Sstia spoke, opening her palm and showing the broken remains of a blue crystal. She heaved a sigh and turned towards the building.

    ¡°The demons are cooped up here, without doubt.¡±

    ¡°The trail vanishes here, so I concur¡±

    Ssriel and Ssral agreed, and Itsuki stepped forwards, to enter the demon¡¯s hideout.

    Then, it happened.

    Cracks spread across the surface of the white box, covering it almost entirely. Something trying to come out, Ssral thought. And come out it did.

    Thick black tendrils burst out of the cracks, and out of the ground, like a geyser, they waved in the air, releasing a deadly atmosphere, and stiffened suddenly. Itsuki and the draconians jumped back, wary from the sudden change.

    The tendrils split up into smaller ones, and embedded itself onto the surface where it came through.

    Then, with a mighty heave, the entire earth and the box broke apart, swirling in a vortex. The ground before them became a whirlpool, with the mud and earth swirling around. Then, suddenly, everything broke free, and the blocks flew away into the distance. Itsuki sliced apart the blocks of white stone that came at him, guarding the draconians.

    The dust swirled around, hiding the huge hole that opened up due to the tendrils. Four figures dashed out, and landed on the opposite side of the hole, watching passively.

    ¡°Demons¡­¡±

    Ssriel spoke, utilizing his skill, Eagle eyes. But true terror would befall them at the existence that appeared from the dustcloud.

    A boy stood there.  He looked to be of about 14 years in age. His long black hair waved around, in the dust. And clearly visible were his odd pair of eye. One that was like a blazing fire, the other that of a berserker¡¯s. A pitch black sclera with crimson red iris. His shoulders and arms were stained with patches of black skin, ad around him, swirled a maelstrom of black miasma, one that would make even a draconian flinch.

    He looked up, his eyes scanning the surroundings.

    ¡°Kill¡±

 Chapter 14: Battle Royale! (1)

    The four demons stayed at the edge of the crater, unmoving. They observed the situation and had planned to take action at an appropriate time. Or so they thought. But to Altrock, this was nothing more than entertainment.

    ¡°Hey, you three. Go take care of the hero¡¯s buddies. Let the hero fight the boy. ¡°

    Altrock ordered them, his face gleeful. He stood there, with his arms crossed, and looked down on the entire fight that was about to evolve.

    By this time, the hero party had already discussed their path.

    ¡°Hero Itsuki, use your holy sword to kill that demon! The rest of them, we¡¯ll hold them off, somehow¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t die, you guys!?¡±

    Ssral waves his hand at Itsuki and moves, towards the intimidating demons. Towards the prey they were created to kill. They darted out, with Ssral and Ssriel as the vanguard with Sstia as the support.

    Their aim was the four demons that were standing beside the crater. They skirted around the crater, avoiding the boy. They sent concerned glances towards him, cautious in case he tried to attack them. For some reason, he did no such thing, and just stood there, in the center of the swirling miasma.

    When they neared the demons, they felt their breaths catch, when they noticed the man standing in between the demons. His presence was like that of a mountain¡¯s, one that could annihilate them.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure how long we can hold them off¡­ I hope Hero Itsuki can do the job¡±

    Ssral muttered to his comrades, worried. Sstia smiled, and Ssriel chuckled.

    ¡°If we¡¯re to die today, then so be it!¡±

    With the fires burning in their hearts, an undying fire of fighting to their deaths, they dashed in, to defeat the demons.

    Itsuki slowly walked towards the boy, taking deep breaths. Step by step, he moved towards him. The boy¡¯s head was bowed down, as if he were in a deep sleep.

    *Sssss* He drew the sword that was on his back, slowly, as he moved closer and closer to the boy.

    After he drew the silver bastard sword, the inscriptions on its blade glowed, and frost spread across the blade, covering it in its icy embrace. The holy sword, Gjaltrosia. He swung the sword, flexing his wrist, and brought it to his side, ready for the fight.

    The moment he stepped into the crater, sword in hand, the boy stirred. The miasma that was near his feet, moved ever so slightly, upwards. The boy raised his head, to see its new prey.

    Itsuki gasped, as he looked at the boy¡¯s face.

    A young boy, with a fairly handsome face, befitting that of a noble¡¯s. His long hair was in bangs, covering his face, reaching his shoulders. Through the gaps of his hair, peered out a pair of eyes, one that was like a blazing fire, and the other a ruby in the middle of darkness.

    Then, suddenly, the boy roared, his voice resounding in the forest.  Itsuki flinched, and took the roar as the beginning of the fight.

    He moved, running towards him, moving in from the left. The boy stayed as he was, and raised his arms.

    The miasma shot out, in droves of spikes, filled with the intent to kill. Itsuki skidded to a stop, and then moved in, directly towards the boy, ducking to avoid the sea of spikes. The boy then beckoned Itsuki, and the miasma turned in midair, going towards Itsuki from the back.

    ¡°Speed boost¡±

    Itsuki casted the enhancement magic he had chanted, and a pale green aura surrounded him. Then, under the effect of the enhancement, he shot forward like a bullet, outrunning the spikes. He raised his sword, in order to kill the boy in one strike.

    The  moment he got within 2 m of the boy, the surrounding miasma rose like a steel trap, covering Itsuki. Unperturbed, he changed his trajectory and swung his sword, moving it in arc from below.

    The huge miasma wave that was about to envelop him got hit with the full brunt of the blow, as it froze. It was quite a terrible sight, seeing the frozen wave of darkness. In the same motion, Itsuki changed his plan of attack, and switched to long ranged attacks. He thrust his sword forwards, aiming towards the boy.

    A wave of ice spikes rose from the ground, and moved towards the boy, cutting through the ground.

    The thickest part of the miasma rose, and formed a shell before him, completely blocking the attack. The shell froze, but the boy paid no heed to it, as he swung his arms around, sending waves of spikes at Itsuki.

    ¡®Humph. He¡¯s not exactly a tough opponent. An attack magic and a defense magic. There¡¯s not much variation in his attacks, and tactics are non-existent.¡¯

    Itsuki observed the battle style of his opponents and made effective counter plans to stop them. That was Itsuki¡¯s specialty, his unique skill, <Anti Personnel Combat>. The reason why Itsuki was chosen was because of this ability, which gave him an edge against other fighters.

    He swung his sword twice, immediately freezing the spikes. The swings consumed a bit of his mana, but such a trivial amount was nothing to Itsuki. He thought his opponent was weak, since the elementary level Freeze effect could easily stop the attacks of the boy. But, Itsuki noticed a bit too late.

    ¡°Wh-What?!¡±

    Four walls of pitch black darkness rose from the black ground, completely cutting off any escape route. They moved down, with spikes on their surfaces. Itsuki swung his sword once again and froze a wall.

    The boy immediately closed his fist, and the wall shattered into bits, allowing another wall to immediately replace the broken wall. But what surprised Itsuki was not the trap, nor the regenerative capabilities of it. What surprised him was the fact that the miasma was being recovered. Then, Itsuki noticed the cause.

    The frozen miasma.

    A layer of ice had covered it, but now, he could see spots of black appearing all over the ice.

    ¡°Corruption huh? Doesn¡¯t matter! I¡¯ll break through this trap of yours!¡±

    He roared, and plunged his sword into the ground.

    ¡°Freeze it all, Freeze wave!¡±

    He used the skill of the Gjaltrosia, Freeze wave. Just like the name, a huge wave of icy wind rose in a circle around him, and moved, completely freezing the trap. He burst through the trap, and without a moment¡¯s delay, moved to kill the boy.

    It was the first time Itsuki¡¯s unique skill had failed, and it was because he had assumed the boy was a magician. He realized his mistake when he felt the fist bury itself in his stomach.

    ¡°Gufu!¡±

    He spat out blood as he slammed into the ground, and rolled on to his side. Without a moment¡¯s delay, he sprang up, and swung his sword blindly in front of him, to cut off any attacks. But again, he failed to consider the possibility that the boy had moved along with him, and was behind him.

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    ¡°Gyaaa!¡±

    He screamed, as a spike buried itself in his left shoulder blade, rendering it useless. He looked back, and felt horror, seeing the dozens of spikes that were covering the air.

    The special ability of his armor, Divine protection, had created a barrier to defend against all attacks, but one of the spikes had gotten through. The rest were suspended in the air, stopped by the invisible barrier.

    ¡°Heal¡±

    Itsuki used one of the precious scrolls he had been given, crumpling it. A blue aura covered the scroll, and it burned to a crisp. Golden rays rose from the scroll and covered him, restoring the damage to his shoulder.

    The boy kept firing spikes, in an attempt to pierce through the barrier, but it was in vain. Healed, Itsuki finally got ready to fight.

    ¡°Demon, Forgive me, for I have underestimated you. Now, I shall fight you with my all!¡±

    ¡°Tch! Annoying!¡±

    The man, or beast muttered, blocking the sharp attacks of the draconian with the pair of Katars he wore on each hand. The man, Orthius, was a man who looked like a carnivorous raccoon. He had, like the others, clear blue eyes. His teeth were not teeth, but fangs. With a burly figure second to Altrock¡¯s, he was quite the nimble fighter, as he didn¡¯t take even a single blow from the blows Ssral was giving with his scimitar like sword.

    Orthius, in a fluid motion, bent his arm, forcing the scimitar to slide down the surface of his katar¡¯s blade. Then, he abruptly withdrew his hand, sending Ssral off balance. He twisted around, aiming for a direct hit to the throat.

    Then, in an unpredictable move, Ssral¡¯s thick tail, which was covered with red scales, whipped around, wrapping itself around Orthius¡¯s hand. Ssral bent down, and lifted his tail, pulling Orthius¡¯s hand up. With a back kick, he attempted to knock out Orthius¡¯s breath, but the demon caught Ssral¡¯s leg with his free hand, and kicked off of Ssral¡¯s back, to escape from his tail¡¯s tight grip.

    ¡°Quite good, kid¡±

    ¡°Orthius the beast. Whatever happens, today, I shall kill you.¡±

    In his heart, Ssral was relieved, because the real monster hadn¡¯t moved yet. Altrock stayed behind, surveying the situation. Ssral was determined to kill at least one demon, even if it is at the cost of his life.

    ¡®I hope the others are fine¡¯

    ¡°Hiyaaah!¡±

    Sstia yelled, as she deployed her barrier against the barrage of knives from the man with jade green hair. It successfully repelled all the knives, and Sstia immediately began chanting a defense spell. Augustus smiled, as he walked towards the female draconian. Behind him, several knives floated, pointed at her.

    ¡°More! Show me more of your magic, draconian!¡±

    Motivated by his research, he played around with his opponent. In the end, Sstia was a support based magician, and alone, she could barely hold her own against such powerful opponents.

    Her mana was long from gone, and she had plenty in reserve, with mana recovery equipment, and recovery medicines.

    But, the battle style of magicians was more on speed based battles, since they cannot improvise with their magic mid battle. The number of cards they can show off are limited, and if all of them are countered, a typical magician would have died already. The continuous attacks from Augustus was forcing her to reveal her cards one by one, and without doubt, she was exasperated by it.

    Whenever she began chanting, he would send an appropriate number of knives to interfere. Even if they didn¡¯t stop her from chanting, the sheer amount would shatter her barrier, and she would be forced to stop, in order to recast her defense magic.

    She couldn¡¯t get a gap huge enough to use her attack magic, even with the abilities she had learnt, <Chant shortening> and <Chant Omission>.

    Augustus¡¯s attacks were simply too fast, and she couldn¡¯t counter it fast enough, forcing her to stay on the defensive. Against another mage, she might¡¯ve already won, with her superior abilities as a magician. But a opponent like Augustus, who excelled in fast and powerful attacks, was definitely not a good thing for her.

    She still had some magic to counter Augustus, and possibly, possibly, gain the advantage and go on the offensive. The reason she didn¡¯t use it yet was because she was worried whether it would be countered. But, waiting a lot wasn¡¯t good too, and she knew it, since there would be a chance that she would be worn out too much, unable to begin attacking even if she gains her much needed gap.

    ¡®This¡­ isn¡¯t good¡¯

    *CLANG!* *CLANG!*

    Metal clashed against metal, as the curved metal blade in the hands of the blonde parried and clashed against the spear of Ssriel.

    Compared to the other two, Ssriel¡¯s state was much better, as he had gotten the best opponent he could fight against. A short ranged opponent.

    He swung the spear, blocking the energy blades the woman sent against him. He dashed in, spear at his side, and thrust in, aiming for her side, She rotates, and brings her blade towards Ssriel¡¯s head, but he uses the special ability of his spear, ducking.

    ¡°<Bend>, Tiorist!¡±

    He yells, and the spear glows. It bends around, and attacks the woman¡¯s side, piercing through her side, wounding her.

    ¡°Tch! Get away from me, you draconic piece of shit!¡±

    She yells, and kicks at Ssriel¡¯s chest. The blow barely hurt, since the damage was mostly absorbed as he stepped back, and his armor was no ordinary armor. Albion himself had crafted it, a set of armor that could easily surpass the set an elite knight possessed.

    He rotated his spear, and a huge burst of wind moved towards the woman. Enhanced by his mana, the tornado tore apart the ground as it moved, intent on tearing her apart like the ground.

    ¡®All right. I¡¯ll finish this up quickly, and help Sstia. She¡¯s in bad shape¡¯

    Ssriel made up his mind, since Ssral was pretty much evenly matched against his opponent, and still had several tricks on hand, in case the battle situation turned for the worse. Even the hero was getting serious, so, there was no trouble there.

    ¡®Today, we shall drench the ground with your blood, foul demons!¡¯

    (There''ll be at least two or more chapters for this part to end, and a bit of warning. The next part of the story will have pretty much no fights, but the progression of the story. I hope you all like this series, and continue to support me! :D Lest you shall meet with NExus the BErserker!!!!)

 Chapter 15: Battle Royale (2)

    This person, he¡¯s strong.

    That was what I thought when I began clashing with this person. He had black hair, just like me. And the armor he wore, it was without a doubt, a treasure.

    But even then, I need to kill him.

    With every swing of that silvery sword of his, he freezes my miasma, hindering my attacks perfectly. I can¡¯t continuously attack him, and it¡¯s obvious that he doesn¡¯t think of me as a proper opponent. Alright, I¡¯ll show you what I can do.

    Pleasure filled my head, as I fired that spike at him, instinct telling me to fire straight at his shoulder. It cut through his armor, in to his flesh. The miasma felt like my own body, so I felt it. The flesh tearing when meeting with the sharp point of my spike. The edge being drenched in that thick warm liquid.

    I want more~!

    The reddening in my vision intensified, as I felt my miasma darken even more. I kept firing the spikes at him, hoping to pierce through his shield, hoping to kill him. But, contrary to my expectations, for some reason, he suddenly gets healed, the wound gets closed.

    His eyes turn clear, as he bends down, with his sword at the ready. His expression had changed from before, as it had become cold. I see, he was getting serious.

    I fired off two of the miasma spikes from my back, and kept them connected to my body. They pierced the ground a few meters away, and I pulled myself towards it, making the spike act like a grappling hook.  All the while, I kept up the offensive, and sent the spikes flying at him from all the directions I could fire at.

    He danced through the barrage, blocking and parrying a few of the spikes, all the while heading through my attack, edging towards me. A trace of fear sprang in my heart, as I saw him get closer and closer. He was dangerous.

    The biggest disadvantage was that whenever his sword touched my miasma, it froze up, and for it to break free, it takes quite a while. That sword, it¡¯s quite a nuisance.

    Thinking that, my attack scheme got replayed in my head. My attack scheme was bland, since I can only fire spikes. It makes my strategies extremely limited, and my attacks get predictable very soon.

    But, due to the gas like nature of my miasma, I can only form stuff like that, and harden it to some extent by arranging it in a compact way. I did that unconsciously, and by doing so, the hardness surpassed a normal sword¡¯s, but the nature of a gas still remained in it, as its¡¯ weaker than what I need it to be, due to the free and unrestrained nature of a gas. I need more flexibility, more things I can create.

    My mind was accelerating, as it thought up strategies. The voice in my head did not complain, because what I did, I did to kill the foe before me.

    I raised another jaw trap, creating a mouth of dark miasma to pop up from beneath the ground, and for the spikes to dig into his flesh, to cause him pain, to teach him what I felt.

    What did I feel?

    I could feel that I forgot something, and that it was important. My mind was a blank slate, but there was a dark unknown matter at the corner of my mind. It pulsed and grew, bit by bit. But because I didn¡¯t remember, it couldn¡¯t grow up too much, because it had nothing to feed on.

    He shatters the jaw trap by freezing it and breaking through it.  Since I had stopped the attack for a second, he immediately dashed in, at frightening speeds. He got dangerously close, and thrust his sword towards my chest.

    Instinct took over my body on seeing his approach, as two miasma spikes shot out of my shoulders, and moving high up, and then piercing the ground on either side of me, moving in an arc. Strengthening them, I used them as supports to push myself up, into the air, away from the dangerous attacks of the foe.

    But, as if he had expected it, he immediately stopped and jumped up, and swung his sword, intent on finishing me off. The miasma shot out of my chest, and pierced through the trunk of a tree, splinters flying in all directions. I pulled myself in, and crashed into the tree, through the trunk and fell on the other side, gasping.

    It had hit me.

    I could feel the stinging pain on the side of my leg, where a huge gash had opened up. But instead of bleeding, a pattern of frost was spreading across my leg, numbing it. My leg was deprived of sensation. It was a strange feeling, like I had lost a leg. I could see it, I could move it, but I could not feel it.

    But it was not the time for admiration of the wound, because from the air, he swung his sword, in a horizontal arc, aiming at where I was. A huge arc of silvery white gas spreads through the morning sky, cutting through the wind, intent on killing me.

    I need something to counter it. Something more versatile. I want to build stuff that I can use as weapons, weapons to kill him. My miasma, I want it to be like small particles, so that I can create what I wish with it.

    Sand.

    As soon as I thought that, my miasma thickens, and falls to the ground, like a huge tidal wave. It had turned into sand, just like i wished it to. I can feel the entirety of the black sand that was in the area, and I summoned it all towards me.

    It came rushing, following my command. I had more control over the miasma now, as i could feel almost every hint of the black sand in this area.

    The sand swirled around me, like a huge whirlpool of darkness, waiting to eat up everything, with me at its center. The freeze wave was almost upon me, and I raised both of my hands, clenching my teeth, and sent that huge amount of black sand at the wave.

    I had noticed a weakness of his freeze ability. It froze whatever it touched, meaning, even the simplest barriers can block his attack. Once the barrier froze, I just had to let it crumble. The regen time for my black matter was constant. So if I break it into little pieces, they¡¯ll all regenerate at the same time. In a second.

    A huge shell of black flew into the sky, against the silvery white arc. They clashed in the air, and black was illuminated by the light.

    In the air, a mystical figure was suspended. A beautiful union of black and silver.

    I clench my fist to shatter the figure, letting it drop to the ground. By the time it falls it¡¯ll have become black sand again, so I did it immediately.

    Like glass breaking, the sculpture like object shattered, illuminated by the sun¡¯s light. It exploded, and fell to the ground.

    As the dark sand vanished from the sky, the site became clear.

    An angel stood there.

    The man that came to fight me. He floated in the sky, with the cold silver sword pointed at me. On his back, two spectral wings were present, which could be seen faintly. He stood poised to attack me, to kill me.

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    My mind roared at me, to kill him. It frustrated me, that I couldn¡¯t kill him yet. Responding to my feelings, the black sand swirled around me, faster than ever. I knew what I had to do. I had to sink my hands into his body, to tear him apart limb from limb.

    I shot into the sky, the black sand supporting me as a podium underneath me. I created another layer of sand to swirl around me, as a protective layer, as I rose in to the sky, and faced the man on equal grounds.

    ¡°Demon¡±

    He spoke to me. Demon? I don¡¯t care. I just need to kill him.

    ¡°In this sky, we shall finish our battle. I challenge you to a fair duel, demon!¡±

    He yells out some incomprehensible stuff. Who cares. Just let me kill you. Blood blood blood.

    Urk! MY mind hurts. The sand gets more aggressive, and my body is tensing up for a fight. Stop it. I¡¯ll kill him.  Just keep the pain away. I can¡¯t take it!

    The pain slowly fades, and my vision clears. The left part was still red, but I could see him.

    The one I had to kill. Kill him.

    My thoughts swirl into the same direction, and for some reason, the desire to kill intensifies. I just had to kill him. I couldn¡¯t sleep easy if I didn¡¯t kill him.

    He charges towards me, his sword raised. His wings flap as he flies towards me, ready to thrust the sword through my body.

    I swing my arms, as if holding something, I visualize it in my mind. A weapon that I had seen only once. Once, when¡­

    I fall onto my knees, my head splitting with pain. Once when, what? The moment I thought that, a pain surpassing the voice came, making me feel like my head was being turned inside out. I couldn¡¯t yell, I couldn¡¯t think. All that was there was pain.

    It was a critical situation in such a fight. I recognized that. He was already almost near me, I could feel the chill from his sword, the temperature around me dropped substantially. The closer he got, the colder it got.

    Wrenching myself free from the pain, I continued with my attack. I swung my both of my hands down, right hand ahead of the left. I close my eyes, to imagine it in my mind perfectly.

    Visualize it. Come on.

    *BOOOM*

    An explosion breaks out, and the shockwave ruffles my hair wildly. I open my eyes, and stare at the weapon in my hands.

    A humongous black scythe, with a handle almost 2 and a half meters long. The blade was an arc, extending from the handle horizontally, a thick 1 and a half meter long blade. It tapered towards the end, into a sharp edge like a bird¡¯s beak. The underside of the blade was sharp enough to cut through steel.  The underside was jagged, with a carnivorous appearance. Black sand swirled around the blade, like a mystic aura.

    The man¡¯s eyes widened, but he had managed to block my swing. The scythe was just above his shoulder, threatening to slice and dice him. But at the last moment, he had raised his sword, blocking the scythe¡¯s advance.

    The sword continuously tried to freeze the scythe, but the sand on the scythe kept moving, renewing its layers again and again, preventing the advance of the ice.

    He spreads his wings and flaps them, backing off from me. Without letting him get away, I swing the scythe, willing it to extend. To slice.

    Blood.

    It covers the scythe, a beautiful red on the black. It flows from the man¡¯s hand, as my scythe slices through his arm. It falls off, down into the ground, an arm.

    The moment I saw it, an animal instinct took over me. To take that arm, and bite into it. To tear through the flesh with my teeth, and wet my throat with the delicious taste of blood. The reddening thickens, completely blocking my vision.

    At that moment, it happened.

    I watched their fights, it was as entertaining as fighting itself. Compared to me, they were like fledglings trying to flap their wings and fly into the sky.

    I could easily kill them all, but I stayed back, since just killing them would be boring. To let them fight and let out their excess adrenaline, and even enjoy myself in the process. Isn¡¯t that what¡¯s better?

    I watched the fights, all four of them.

    The draconian fared somewhat against their opponents. They survived. The new girl got a bad match, and she would die today. Doesn¡¯t matter. We of Ascalon do not need weaklings. The strong belong in the Ascalon.

    Augustus was as always, playing with his food before eating it. He needed to be careful with that attitude, in case someone took advantage of that attitude of his and killed him. After all, carelessness is one¡¯s greatest enemy.

    Orthius, well his fight was interesting. They fought evenly, continuously parrying and slashing. Even with their soul armaments out, they could only fight this much huh. Have the demons gotten weaker?

    I divert my attention towards the real battle. The battle in the skies.

    The hero¡¯s sword¡­. Gjaltrosia. The frost king¡¯s holy sword.

    The Frost king, Kong Kyagruyock, the predecessor of the current Emperor, was renowned for the northern expedition he had lead. He became the head of the expedition, to take down the Frost Dragon that was terrorizing the northern territories. It lived in a secluded territory, and all the people that went along with him died along the way. In the end, he used his last breath to plunge the sword into the Frost Dragon¡¯s heart, killing it. The valiant actions of the king made a God decide to bless the sword.

    The holy sword Gjaltrosia was born.

    ¡°To think this hero got it. Did he go to the Frozen lands?¡±

    The Frozen lands were cursed by the Frost Dragon¡¯s dying roar to be a frozen wasteland forever. The cold there is almost impossible to survive in, and the monsters that lived there were enough to kill even the toughest warriors.

    ¡°On the other hand¡­¡±

    He gazed at No 17. He was truly a gem. He devised a new way to use his black miasma and turned it into sand. It was more efficient.

    ¡°Ou¡­ A scythe huh. True, keeping the outer layers in constant motion keeps the freeze from spreading.¡±

    Slowly, Altrock came to a realization.

    ¡®If I let him live¡­ The complications won¡¯t be minor. His growth rate, even though fueled by rage, is without doubt, extraordinary. It might become a threat to Ascalon. There''s no doubt that he won''t co operate with us.  I¡¯ll have to kill him then, huh.¡¯

    Altrock gazed around, and finally decided.

    ¡®Right. I¡¯ll put them all in one spot and finish it off. It¡¯s getting late anyways. The hero is a threat too. The draconian¡­ Well, I¡¯ll kill them too¡¯

    Finally, Altrock began to move.

 Chapter 16: To Be Betrayed Twice

    It was instantaneous.

    The moment I wanted to just tear into him, he vanished. Like a fleeting dream, he was already gone. Where did he go?!

    A huge sound greeted me. I looked back, astonished by the sudden deafening noise alerting me, snapping me out of my hunger filled trance.

    A huge dust cloud was rising from the ground, and a huge crater had formed there. The dust rose to the sky, and through it, I could see a figure.

    My prey.

    He lay there, like a broken toy. His arms and legs were twisted, and his face was contorted in pain. A hint of surprise was filled on there. After seeing his state, I realized. There was a third part¡ª

    As I was about to confirm my suspicions, my entire vision changed into a blur. Wind cut past my body, and in a moment, pain greets me.

    I collide with the hard earth, face first. The speed with which I was sent flying is enough to send me into the ground, through it. I could almost feel every bone in my body breaking. Every internal organ bleeding. I was in a sorry state, a step away from death.

    It wasn¡¯t fair.

    I don¡¯t know who I am. What I have to do. About this world. Nothing.

    I am a blank slate. Without an identity, memories or experiences.

    All I know is how to kill, and the moment I came into this world, I was forced to fight. Why?

    I can feel something grasping my broken leg. A tight vice like grip. The ground scraped my chest, my face, as I was pulled out of the darkness.

    I was dangling by one leg. A leg held by that man. A man with an indomitable presence. His eyes werea piercing blue, and it stared into my face.

    Something seized hold of me. An indescribable feeling.

    Fear.

    It overrode my rage. The rage seemed so pitiful next to the fear I felt from this person. I could feel my entire being, every sensation, as clearly as if I were meditating. My heart began pounding, so fast that it would burst. My mind was a mess.

    Run. Run. Run.

    It kept resounding in my head. I don¡¯t know why, but I had to get away from this person. Every inch of my body was screaming at me to stay away from him.

    As if he read my thoughts, the tips of his lips curl upwards, in a small smile.

    My throat clenched. I couldn¡¯t breathe. Sweat beaded on my forehead. I gasped, trying to draw in air.

    An unbearable pressure was pressing down on my chest, as if wanting to choke me to death.

    That was the extent of the fear I felt from this person. An indescribable fear. My dark sand disappeared, without a trace. My rage was long gone, overridden by the stark terror in my head.

    He threw me , and I fell, rolling on the ground until I hit something soft. Clothes. Warm. Bodies.

    I was thrown into a heap of bodies, and I could vaguely recognize something from the scent of blood that emerged. The person that fought me was here. He was lying behind me.

    My entire body felt like it was being pierced by tiny needles, tearing my flesh to shreds. Because my flesh was in shreds, my bones in fragments.

    I opened my eyes, subduing  the pain with my willpower. I had to see. What was happening? Would I die?

    In front of my eyes, three figures stood.

    The man who made me feel like I had to get away from at all costs.  But I recognized someone else. Vaguely, faintly, i felt like I had seen that mop of jade green hair somewhere before. M-m-m-a

    My head splits open from the pain that assaults me. Wh-what? I can¡¯t think. The pain ¡­ it¡¯s unbearable!!

    And then, the man with black hair raises his hand.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but I¡¯ll have to kill all of you¡±

    His voice was deep, and it sent a chill down my spine. Like the death god itself was whispering in my ear. Terror was coursing through my mind, and I caught my breath, just by hearing that ominous voice.

    He pulled his hand back, as if he were going to punch me. Then, he stepped forward, and vanished.

    BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMM!!

    And, the next thing I knew, I was flying.

    I crashed into the tree, and the air got knocked out of my lungs. I gasped for air, as I sagged onto the tree, my body hurting.

    I bleakly opened my eyes, and saw the cause.

    A small crate had appeared, and in the center of it, two figures were standing. One, the man of absolute terror. The other, a cloaked person.

    The cloaked person had blocked the blow perfectly, his palm holding the fist of the other man. They glared at each other, with venom filled gazes.

    ¡°Go¡ª¡°

    I didn¡¯t wait for them to finish what they were saying. I listened to what my body told me to do. I scrambled to my feet, my body hurting.

    I summoned what little miasma I could, but because my anger was slowly ebbing away, it had turned back into gas. And a frail gas at that.

    Without waiting for a checkup, I immediately formed two spikes, aimed them at the ground, and shot them.

    The recoil sent me soaring into the air, the air whizzing past me. My body hurt like hell, but without caring, I curled up my body, to protect my head. I can¡¯t die. I have to survive!

    The instinct grabbed hold of me, as I crashed onto the ground again.

    Without caring for the agony that I felt, I kept at it, I shot myself off of the ground again, to get away.

    That monster, he can easily kill me. I have to escape!

    I kept doing it, three times, seven times, abusing my body to the very limit, not caring for the torment that my body was going through.

    I lost count after the 13 th jump, and midway through the umpteenth jump, the miasma disappeared, and I free fell onto the ground.

    I staggered onto my feet, and walked forwards.

    The terror was ebbing away, and my body kept moving mechanically, to get away.

    Time passed, a lot of time. I don¡¯t feel how much time, but I kept walking, stumbling and tripping, the pain tearing my body apart. Until finally, my legs gave out.

    I lay on the ground, face forward. I couldn¡¯t move. I had reached my limit. Maybe¡­ Maybe¡­ I should just close my eyes. Just sleep¡­..

    Stolen story; please report.

    ****************************

    ¡°God¡¯s Apostle? What business do you have here?¡±

    Altrock muttered, annoyed at the appearance of the cloaked figure.

    The hood fell back at their clash, and the face of the person was revealed.

    A serene and gentle face, his gentle light blue hair neatly combed on his head. His eyes were like balls of gold, as they gleamed brightly. His expression was sharp, and a small smile played on his mouth, as he gazed at the Demon General.

    ¡°Altrock¡­¡±

    He  speaks, with a light and breathy voice, a gentle whisper. The sound was faint, yet strangely clear to those listening.

    ¡°Why must you do this?¡±

    ¡°Drop the act, Apostle Niantal.¡±

    Altrock snapped, irritation clear in his voice.

    The angelic look on Niantal¡¯s face disappears, getting replaced by a look of derision.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get to the point, Altrock. These are my playthings. I won¡¯t let you touch them.¡±

    ¡°How about you causing mine to getaway?¡±

    Altrock asks, gesturing at the place where the boy had run off to. Niantal smirks, and replies.

    ¡°Hou~? You think you¡¯re not able to capture a brat? That must be quite shameful, for a Demon general to be unable to catch a kid¡±

    Altrock glares at Niantal¡¯s provocation, not willing to respond.

    ¡°I see, you¡¯ll remain silent huh? Well then let me get to the point. A truce. We will not fight, and retreat to our respective domains. We don¡¯t want unneeded bloodshed now, do we?¡±

    ¡°A truce, huh? Seems appealing, but I need the head of one of yours. You see, your guy killed one of my people¡±

    ¡°Oh? Is that so? Then here you go~! Have three!

    Niantal nonchalantly tosses the draconians to Altrock, and picks up the hero. He begins to float, preparing to fly away.

    ¡°Then, see you, Altrock~!¡±

    He snickered at Altrock, and floated away.

    ¡°Oh, and here¡¯s a little present¡±

    He snaps his fingers, and Altrock¡¯s leg bursts.

    Altrock howls in pain, surprised by the sudden explosion. The people behind Altrock widen their eyes, surprised. Then, like a bomb, the bodies of the draconian explodes, enveloping the area with a bright white flame.

    ¡°NIANTAL! YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS!!!!¡±

    Altrock¡¯s angry yell echoes through the forest, and Niantal flies away, with the hero tucked under his arm, laughing heartily.

    ************************

    Out of the remains of the burning forest, Altrock emerges. Burns covered his body, and he lacked a limb. Thick blood spurted from the stump of his leg, as he limped away from the flaming remains of the forest.

    ¡®Niantal¡­ He will definitely die by my hands!¡±

    Resolving it to himself, his mind overcome by rage, he keeps moving. Due to the incident with Niantal, any worry about the boy had disappeared, replaced by the anger against Niantal.

    Then, out of the thicket, a figure emerged.

    ¡°Augustus¡­¡±

    Altrock recognizes him, and mutters his name. Bloodied and battered, Augustus stumbles forward, his coat torn to shreds.

    ¡°Orthius¡­ Orthius died..¡±

    ¡°Tsk¡±

    Annoyed at this, Altrock moves, to help Augustus. Even if he were a person that would look down on those weaker than him, Altrock would never abandon his subordinates and comrades.

    As he slung Augustus¡¯s arm around his shoulder, another surprise met him.

    A dagger buried itself into Altrock¡¯s side. It was black leaking some noxious fumes.

    ¡°Au¡­gustus..¡±

    Altrock whispers his name, looking at his subordinate in shock. Augustus was smiling, his face gleeful with the success. He drives the knife in deeper, pushing Altrock away.

    ¡°Ha¡­ How long I have waited for this moment! To just get you killed! Always so arrogant! I know, Ascalon has need of you, but I¡¯ll remake you, as a better, and more obedient person! That¡¯ll suit you better!¡±

    Augustus began gloating, happy about his betrayal. But what he doesn¡¯t expect was why Altrock became a Demon General.

    In a lightning fast movement, Altrock crushes Augustus¡¯s head between his hands. The head bursts, and blood covers his hand. In the same motion, Altrock grasps the broken neck of the corpse, and with brute strength, tears the body into two halves.

    The flesh and entrails fall to the ground, as Altrock wipes his bloody hands on his armor, disgusted by his subordinate¡¯s actions.

    Sure, the poison used by Augustus was potent and strong enough to kill Altrock, but he had not expected Altrock¡¯s experience against poisons. Altrock had been poisoned successfully on several occasions, with poisons much stronger than this. Due to this, Altrock always carried an Antidote scroll, to heal himself at any opportunity.

    Altrock limps away, feeling disgruntled.

    **************************

    ¡°Tch, it failed huh. What a persistent bastard¡±

    A shady figure mutters, as he watched Altrock tear apart his head through a crystal ball.

    ¡°My plan¡­ has gotten some setbacks¡­ Tsk¡±

    He crushes the ball, annoyance etching itself on his face.

    **********************************

    Voices, faint voices reached my ears. I could barely register it into my fatigued mind.. My mouth tasted dirt, and I felt tired. Oh, so tired.

    ¡°¡ªuite good¡±

    ¡°Umu, there are a lot of injuries, but it isn¡¯t too bad.¡±

    Something was poking my body. I got flipped over, my face made to face the sky. I can¡¯t open my eyes. I¡¯m too tired.

    ¡°The physique is good enough, right?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯ll sell for a good pric¡ª¡°

    Then, my consciousness faded completely, as I felt my body being lifted by something.

    ( Author: A few more chapters, and then Vol 1 ends! BaNZAi!!!  [th_084_.gif]   Hope you guys enjoy this series! [th_053_XD.gif] )

 Chapter 17:The Slave Market

    ¡°Your majesty¡±

    The monocle wearing minister bowed. But different from before, the minister now had spiky grey hair. The 15th Minister felt scared of his liege, as he had witnessed the fate of his predecessor, the 14th minister.

    ¡°Speak¡±

    The king grunted as he paced around his royal chamber. It had a luxurious feel to it, with an extravagant bed with mesmerizing drapes over them. The entire floor was carpeted with  beautifully embroidered cloth, and the room was covered in a dull yellow light, giving it a mysterious feel.

    The beauty of the royal chamber was ruined by the image of the pig like king that stood in the room. He regarded the minister with cold eyes, already contemplating ways on how to kill him.

    ¡°We have discovered the mole in our kingdom, your majesty¡±

    ¡°Oh~?¡±

    The king¡¯s mood immediately improved, joy filling him from this unexpected news. The minister could live a little longer thanks to this, but his fate was already decided.

    The demon Pegasus had invaded the Gureis kingdom. No alarm had sounded, no one had noticed it. She was suddenly there. The kingdom¡¯s barrier should have prevented her entry, but she could enter without much difficulty. Meaning, there was a mole inside the kingdom. Someone who was in a position high enough to allow her entry without being suspected. A traitor.

    ¡°Who is it?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the young lord from the Venturus family. ¡°

    ¡°Higher nobility? That¡¯s a surprise. But perhaps even they were unaware of it. Doesn¡¯t matter. Behead all of them. Make them an example¡±

    The king nonchalantly orders their deaths and walks away, caring not for trials and such.

    ¡°There is other news your majesty¡±

    ¡°Huh? There¡¯s more?¡±

    The king turns back, his face expressing irritation.

    ¡°Klaus Venturus, that is, the traitor has already fled, your majesty¡±

    ¡°So? Hunt him down! Send a couple Seekers. They¡¯re freeloading here anyways!¡±

    ¡°Your majesty, it has already been done. But¡­ His path is towards the Qutyis kingdom. And to top it off it¡¯s the time of the slave market too. Finding him would be¡­¡±

    ¡°The Slave Market huh. True, he can mask himself and not look inconspicuous. And from among the crowd, it¡¯d be difficult even for the Seekers to find him¡­¡±

    The minister looks down, nervousness etched on his face. If he couldn¡¯t execute the orders of the king properly, his death was just an eventuality. He racked his brains in order to find a solution. And he happened upon one too.

    ¡°Your majesty, if I may?¡±

    ¡°Speak¡±

    ¡°Since it¡¯s the slave market, no noble could resist getting some slaves. And since he¡¯s running away, a combat slave would be optimum for him¡­¡±

    The king appeared thoughtful, his grotesque face contorting in confusion.

    ¡°But in order to sniff him out even if he made a purchase¡­ the amount won¡¯t be negligible¡­¡±

    The minister stayed silent, since this was all he could do. The king began walking around again, his pudgy hand on his chin. He picked up an apple and began rolling it around in his hand, thinking. Then, he arrived at a conclusion.

    ¡°Send a tribute to the Slave Trader Union. Along with the request. An appropriate reward, mind you. We wouldn¡¯t want to insult them. That mole won¡¯t be escaping today¡­¡±

    The king crushed the apple, rage consuming his face. He grit his teeth, ignoring the nervous minister before me.

    ¡°Oi, Guard Captain!¡±

    He grunts at the doorway, and immediately, a man wearing full body armor appears. He stands erect, the helmet covering his face.

    ¡°Take this man to the ring. You know what to do. And dispatch a contingent of knights, along with some of the seekers. Hunt him down. Send the tribute well before the knights. We need to kill him as soon as possible¡±

    ¡°My kinggg!¡±

    The minister yells as he gets dragged away by the captain. The king turns his attention towards the window, where the sun was just rising.

    ¡®The slave market huh¡­ Perhaps I should pay a visit too¡¯

    The king thought, looking at the horrifying scene that was concealed by the drapes over the bed. A group of dismembered women, their faces etched with agony lay there. That was what was left of them after the king had satisfied his carnal desires.

    ****************************************************************************

    A hooded man walks through the streets of Qutyis, the long cloak fluttering behind him. A mask covered what little of his face could be seen. The man walked into an alleyway, his steps quickening.

    The young lord of the Venturus family, a former noble, Klaus walked towards the slave market, intending to buy some capable slaves. He was a supporter of the demons, and one of the many spies that invaded Gureis. A familiar. The scar on his neck tingled, signifying that his lord was calling.

    ¡®I¡¯m being tracked..¡¯

    Klaus noted to himself, noticing the faint magic of a Seeker acting on him.

    ¡®Humph. Foolishness. To think they¡¯d even dream of finding me in Qutyis. Truly, the demons should rule this world. Or destroy it.¡¯

    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    The mask hid his smile as he walked towards the slave market, eager to buy some slaves and head to his lord.

    He emerged through the alleyway, into an open clearing.

    A dark atmosphere covered the place, and a lot of people stood there. They all wore masks or veils, intending to hide their identity. Only a few openly declared their identity. He picked up one of the boards that had been placed there, which signified his identity. Klaus walked towards the stages that had been set up by the various slave traders. He surveyed the slaves being displayed, intending to find a few that would be perfect for him.

    ¡°A perfect specimen, this man of the Lingis tribe has the perfect strength any one would need for protection. Please, look at his rippling body! He has been trained in the strictest of methods, and his body has been forged to protect you from any danger!¡±

    A masked man declares, pushing to the front a naked man. His body was indeed fine, indicating his strength. Long blonde hair hung around his face, and his tanned face had a dead expression on it. Chains hung around him, restricting his movement.

    ¡®Hou¡­ This seems good enough¡¯

    Klaus begins bidding on the Lingis tribesmen, competing against several others. In the end he wins, owing to the humongous wealth he owned. He had looted every single coin from the Venturus family and fled, intending to escape perfectly.

    ¡°And it goes to bidder 314~!!¡±

    The slave trader announces Klaus successfully buying the slave, and he walks towards the next stage.

    ¡®I need more slaves¡­ ¡®

    He bought three more of the slaves, two of them that would suit the rogue and Guardian role. Finishing up business, he heads towards the main office, in order to finish the branding.

    ¡°Yes? Bidder 314. Have you finished browsing?¡±

    Klaus nods, intending to finish this quickly. The Gureis kingdom was hot on his trail, and he had no time to dilly dally. Sensing his attention, the receptionist directs him towards the room of Slave Trader Muno. He quickly heads towards there, and Muno greets him.

    ¡°Yes young master! We are happy for this opportunity! Please, show your finger!¡±

    The greasy looking man, Muno greets him, his broken yellow teeth being revealed in his disgusting smile. Klaus wanted to cringe away from him, but right now, getting slaves was his priority. He removes the glove covering his right hand and extends it. Muno gestures to someone, and a small rat like boy rushes out. He pricks Klaus¡¯s finger with a small needle, and carries the drop to Muno.

    Muno quickly compounds the branding mixture, mixing in his blood. He pours the mixture on to the chests of the slaves and they begin screeching in pain from the golden hot liquid burning their skin. Muno keeps chanting, enchanting the brand.

    Klaus absentmindedly lets his eyes wander over the slave market, bored by the process. He surveys the market through the window, inspecting the slaves that were on display.

    Suddenly, his eyes widen.

    ¡®Th-that?! Isn¡¯t that?!¡¯

    Klaus runs out of the office, towards the stage. Without a doubt, it was him!

    ¡°Ah! Young master!¡±

    Ignoring  Muno¡¯s call, he rushes towards the one he had spotted. That black hair¡­

    He skids to a stop before the stage, surprise etching itself on his face. It was him!

    A boy walked onto the stage. With hair as black as the night, and eyes like fire. He was barely fourteen, and his body was perfect for his age. He looked dead, but it was him without doubt.

    ¡®Nexus Ellris Zoltive. Without a doubt, it¡¯s him. The one my master desires.¡¯

    A fierce bidding war starts between the nobles. Unsurprisingly, nobles loved breaking children, and one like this would be something they¡¯d never let go. Klaus gaze was transfixed on the boy, in surprise that he had found such a treasure here.

    ¡®If I bring him back to my master¡­.¡¯

    ¡°1 million gold going once, twice-¡°

    ¡°10 million gold!¡±

    A clear voice cut through the slave trader¡¯s announcement, and he widened his eyes in surprise. 10 million gold?? That was the biggest payday they could get for him.

    ¡°T-t-ten million gold going once, going twice¡­ No 23 is sold to Bidder 314! Please treasure him!¡±

    The slave trader declares, overjoyed at this unexpected payday.

    But an even happier smile twists the face of Klaus, feeling happy at being able to please his master. The masked man walked back towards the office, pleased at the unexpected find.

    Yo! Nexus here!

    It''s been a long time since the last update... *checks the calendar* Yup, it has. Well, my schedule is screwed up due to some problems with my PC. [th_0gotas.gif] So, my updates are not gonna be on a regular basis, but only whenever possible. Well, I''ll still keep writing chaps so that I can release it in one go [th_0fire.gif] (unless there''s a clliffhanger... Mwahahahahah~!  ) Well, hope you enjoyed the chapter :D :D :D

 Chapter 18: The Escape

    In an alley in the streets of Qutyis, a dark oak carriage stood. Before it, two magnificent horses stood, huffing and puffing as they nervously beat the floor with their hooves. Behind the carriage stood a man, wearing a dark brown cloak with a white mask covering his face. He kept pacing around, seemingly annoyed.

    ¡°Quickly! I do not have much patience for this.¡±

    Klaus muttered impatiently, every passing second increasing his anxiety. The kingdom of Gureis would most certainly not find him in the city while the slave market was functioning. But the situation was entirely different now.

    Perhaps it was by some sort of divine intervention or perhaps pure coincidence, but Klaus had found the boy his master desired. The boy, a failed result of some human project was necessary for the revival of Ascalon apparently.

    Klaus did not know much about it, and neither did he care. But even Klaus knew enough about the Demon King to recognise the traits in the boy.

    Now that the boy was in his custody, Klaus had to get him to his master as quickly as possible. The Seekers and the Knights that would be sent by the Gureis would pose the risk of him failing this mission. After all, succeeding in this would mean getting his master¡¯s approval.

    Being the familiar of a demon, Klaus had to do everything to please his master. His very existence was for his master as far as he was concerned. For the pact between a familiar and his master is that strong.

    Feeling his master calling him, Klaus pressed against the scar on his neck. The scar was burnt onto him to symbolize the bond with his master. Because of the mark, his master  always knew where Klaus was. He could contact his master too, but Klaus could not run the risk of having a contact being intercepted by the Seekers. After all, the magic of the Seekers was just that useful at tracking, and the ones from Gureis could sense even the faintest shimmer in Space.

    ¡°Get it done quickly! I need to leave by dawn¡±

    Klaus admonished the poor slave boy again, feeling irritated at his very presence. He had to deliver to his master a thing of great importance, and he was stuck here, waiting for some slave to finish its work.

    Unable to bear the pressure, Klaus kicked the slave boy, urging him to get it done faster.

    The boy whimpered but did not complain. He quietly lifted yet another bag of provisions and loaded it onto the well polished carriage.

    Provisions for atleast a week. That was how long of a journey Klaus estimated it to be. Of course the amount Klaus took would appear to be enough for at least 4 months. But being a high class noble, Klaus could not bear the fact of buying less than required. Than what ¡®he¡¯ thought he required.

    ¡°Finally, you¡¯re here. Help the thing pack it up quickly. We¡¯ll be leaving soon¡±

    The three slaves he had bought walked out of an alley, but now fully equipped. The Lingis tribe¡¯s warrior now wore a full set of plate armor, with a humongous great sword at his side. The woman who was selected to be the scout wore thin dark clothes, the cloak that fluttered behind her covering the two deadly looking knives at her hips. Lastly a huge burly man followed. He had donned on a full set of heavy armor, with the silver helm blocking his face. In his hand was a Shield almost as large as him.

    In the warrior¡¯s arms there was a boy, with jet black hair.

    ¡°Put him in there, and tie him up while you¡¯re at it!¡±

    Klaus commanded the warrior, gesturing towards the boy in his arms.

    ¡°You two!¡±

    He then turned towards the others, feeling quite irritated at the delay.

    ¡°You, Rogue, take the reins. Here¡¯s the map. Keep an eye out. You can detect Seeker magic right?¡±

    The girl nods lightly, her face facing down. She then proceeded to walk towards to the coachman¡¯s seat with light steps.

    ¡°Shield, put in the sacks quickly. There shouldn¡¯t be any more setbacks.¡±

    Quickly, urged Klaus as he began walking around in circles, agitated. The three slaves immediately got to their jobs, with the rogue attaching the harnesses to the horses. The shield quickly worked with the slave child to load the sacks, choosing to do most of the work so that the kid did not have to bear the load. The warrior climbed into the carriage and put the boy inside, tying him up tightly with rope.

    A few minutes later, the preparations were finally completed, and Klaus immediately boarded the carriage.

    ¡°About time. Shield, go sit with the rogue. You are to defend her from any attacks. If any of those attacks were to endanger me or the package, you are to immediately protect us. Warrior, you are with me¡±

    He called for the Lingnis tribesman and the shield went ahead to climb onto the coachman¡¯s seat, sitting alongside the rogue. He placed his shield behind him, in case some danger occurred.

    Klaus could feel the Seeker¡¯s magic slowly triangulating on his location.

    Those damn Human gods. To give the gift of magic to those ignorant humans..

    Klaus cursed at the gods in his mind, irritated by the speed at which the Seekers were closing in on him. Although he felt slightly scared at the prospect of being captured and killed, it was all overshadowed by his duty that was to bring the descendant of the demon lord to his master.

    ¡°Set off now!¡±

    Klaus yelled at the rogue, who brandished her whip at the horses. With a painful neigh, the horse immediately set off.She kept a firm hand on the reins, driving them the way she intended.

    Klaus looked out of the window of the carriage, glaring anxiously at the setting sun. It was already the 22nd of Redmoon, and the hour of the Moon Goddess was quickly arriving.

    The hour of the Moon Goddess was a ritual that took place every year, on the day after the month of Redmoon. The Moon Goddess, drenched in the blood of her foes would clean herself from the filth and murder that covered her. The redness of the moon would fade, and it would be replaced by a pristine silver.

    The Moon goddess is one of the gods supporting the humans. Without doubt, the effectiveness of the Seeker¡¯s magic would spike in the hour of the Moon goddess. Damn it. The odds are gradually stacking against me.

    The advantage of a crowd concealing him would quickly disappear after he left Qutyis. And in about an hour, he would have left the city walls. Then finding him would only be a matter of time. He could¡¯ve hidden among the slave caravans as they left Qutyis to conceal himself, but with the boy factoring in, it would surely be impossible as it would take too long to bring him to his master.

    I need to delay them. Somehow. The magic of the Seeker¡¯s depends on remnants of magic that leaks from all living things. Being bonded to my master, my magic trace would be even more distinct, to an extent that I¡¯m like a beacon for them.

    But since the last major act of magic that involved me was in the slave market when I bought these things, the magic trace would be major there. They would undoubtedly search there first, thinking that the trail I¡¯m creating now would be fake. That should buy me some time. But my gut tells me that a fight is inevitable. Well, it might be so. I should prepare right now.

    Klaus immediately crossed his legs and shut his eyes. Then slowly, faint red light emerged from him. Slowly, strings of light formed from it and curled around him like a protective net. Klaus stayed like that, the strings continuously swirling around him.

    The warrior who sat near him paid no heed to the actions of his master. After all, he was experienced with being a combat slave. He had met masters much stranger than Klaus. But what irritated him was the faint sense of magic that permeated the surroundings. He recognised it as tracking magic, but sadly he couldn¡¯t do anything to stop the annoying trace.

    He quietly looked after his newly obtained sword, checking the blade for chips and scratches if any. He held his arm straight out with the sword in hand, checking its balance.

    Then, his attention diverted towards the boy that he had tied up earlier.

    He looked quite young. But even the warrior knew what his black hair signified.

    The hair of the previous demon king. According to the stories he had heard, even the demon king had black hair like this. But seeing it in person was quite an unnerving scene.

    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Because for some strange reason, the warrior was in awe of the boy. Something made the boy seem more than he was. But the warrior quickly corrected his observation. It wasn¡¯t awe. It was fear.

    He felt raw fear from the boy, as if he was a feral animal.

    He quickly averted his eyes and stared out the window of the carriage. It would be quite a long journey for him.

    ****************************************

    The old man sighed as he twirled his long silver hair in his hand. His wife had always berated him for letting it grow so much. He chuckled, remembering the sweet memories he had with his beloved.

    The Emperor turned his fierce orange eyes towards the skies. He visibly relaxed as he leaned against the pillar in the open terrace of his castle.

    Alice¡­

    It had been a good twenty years since his wife had died, but Alsaire could not forget her. Not her lovely voice, nor her beautiful bouncy hazel hair.

    He had married again due to him being the Emperor, but Alsaire had never turned to look at his ¡®wife¡¯ after the required political setting. She herself only took part in the marriage for the power, and it wasn¡¯t unknown to Alsaire that she had already begun plotting to overthrow him.

    He sighed again, and his wrinkled face looked like it had aged a hundred years more. After all, the troubles of old age will catch up to everyone, even if it is the Emperor of Arialis.

    He walked towards the railing of the terrace, twirling his hair as he did so. It was a habit that he couldn¡¯t quite resist, because it was something his wife had always done with his hair.

    He leaned over the railing with his hand gripping the black metal as he surveyed the sight expanding before him.

    The capital city of Lienveriath, Tahryius.

    Buildings of various colors and shapes spread out before him. Tahryuis encouraged creativity and art, enabling it to become one of the most beautiful cities in all of Arialis, and even on continents beyond it.

    A splendid point of beauty, Tahryuis rarely experienced the troubles of rebels.

    The greenery that covered the place calmed Alsaire down as he observed the pond in the center of the city. It was a popular spot for relaxing, with the various kinds of trees and animals freely roaming there.

    Just like Alice wanted it..

    The Emperor almost teared up as he remembered his wife animatedly talking about how she wanted the pond to be filled with trees.

    ¡°As I thought, you were here huh, Alsaire¡±

    A rough voice greeted Alsaire, snapping him out of his trance. He quickly turned to face the familiar scarred face of his childhood friend.

    ¡°Zeltris. What has happened? It is quite rare for you to want to see me¡±

    Alsaire turned back to look back at the city. The maroon haired man stepped forward, his armor shaking as he did so. He was fully armored now, with grand pieces of dark red armor covering his body. A greatsword hung on his back, exuding an aura of danger.

    ¡°Amazingly, my schedule cleared up, so I wanted to see my childhood friend again. After all, where else would you come but here?¡±

    ¡°Hm.. It is quite the spectacle to watch¡±

    Zeltris chuckled, but the chuckle only served to make him look even more menacing.

    ¡°Still reminiscing about Alice?¡±

    He stepped forward and leaned his back against the railing. His maroon eyes then traveled upwards, as he craned his neck to look at the floating clouds in the sky.

    Alsaire remained silent, choosing not to reply to this.

    ¡°Come on Alsaire. Talk to me. If you get all these feelings bottled up, it won¡¯t do you any good.¡±

    Alsaire sighed, and then opened his mouth again.

    ¡°It¡­ It still haunts me to this day, Zeltris. I could have saved her you know¡­ If I just¡­ ¡°

    ¡°It won¡¯t help you by regretting it Alsaire. In the end, you did the right thing. Alice¡­ I¡¯m sure she¡¯d have liked this too¡±

    Alsaire clenched his fist on the railing, his knuckles whitening.

    ¡°Of course she would¡­ But that doesn¡¯t mean I would. I would rather have saved her than thes--¡±

    ¡°Well well, what¡¯s going on here?¡±

    Alsaire¡¯s grudge filled comment was interrupted as a new voice emerged from behind them. Zeltris and Alsaire turned to look at the intruder.

    The blue haired young man walked out of the shadows, the sunlight illuminating his pale face.

    ¡°God¡¯s Apostle Niantal. What business do you have?¡±

    Alsaire responded curtly to Niantal as he walked in. Even if the public revered the apostles, Alsaire had begun to despise the gods after the ¡®choice¡¯ they presented him with.

    ¡°Hm? I just returned from the scene of the crime. Really Alsaire? You didn¡¯t tell me the hero was going on a trip~?¡±

    He went to Gureis?! What trouble did he whip up there?

    Even though he was an apostle, Niantal was notorious for the various atrocities he committed, based on his whims and fancies.

    ¡°What did you do there apostle?¡±

    Zeltris calmly cut in, since he guessed that Alsaire might just make things worse if he lost his temper.

    The Empire and the Church had a delicate relationship, and the balance and peace in the empire would be destroyed if the Church took action against them. After all, they were quite the force in Arialis.

    ¡°Hm~? You should thank me Zel! A demon commander was present you know? Altrock was so scaary~!¡±

    ¡°Altrock?!¡±

    Zeltris visibly tensed up as he shouted the commander¡¯s name. Altrock was one of the worst nightmares for Arialis¡¯ army, and he was like a storm of disaster.

    ¡°Luckily, I was there to save the hero boy, and I even dealt some major damage to the commander. Really, you empire idiots are such amateurs..¡±

    Zeltris clenched his fist, annoyed. He did not want to start a war with the Church, but he could quite easily blow off the head of Niantal. Apostle or not, he was just small fry to Zeltris.

    He must have resorted to some underhanded tricks. After all, Altrock is not someone a measly Apostle could mess with.

    But then, an idea sparked in Zeltris¡¯s head. Could it be, that the strength of the Apostle was much more than believed?

    What was the Church planning?

    ¡°See ya then¡±

    Niantal walked off, waving at the duo playfully. A sly smile was plastered on his face as he walked away. After all, he achieved his objective.

    NEXUS here!

    Heya! The update is here! Sorry it took so long. I was working out some of the major plot points, so it took some time. I can''t promise regular updates yet, but I''m getting there. Ah, I wish I could return to the times when regular updates were just super easy.

    I decided to switch to a third person limited perspective now! Let me know which is better!

    Thanks for reading! :D :D

 Chapter 19: The Nightstalkers

    ¡°Oi Humdee, have you seen the pin I use?¡±

    The middle aged man called out to his friend as he sifted through the piles of rubbish that had gathered in their room. He couldn¡¯t use his hands since they were full by holding up the bun of hair that he was tying up.

    It was early in the morning on the 20th of Redmoon. As always, Scriled had to follow the schedule he had set for himself. Being a part of the kingdom¡¯s army, he pretty much had to follow a set schedule, lest he become a disorderly mess.

    ¡°Hm? Pin. Nah mate. I never seen it today now have I?¡±

    The scrawny man replied as he kept reading the book in his hand. Beads of sweat could be seen on the top of his head, indicating the heat in Gureis even in the early morning. Actually, the early morning heat was one of the things that drove away visitors from Gureis.

    ¡°Humdee. This is not funny you know! I need to get to the meeting today. The captain¡¯s already sent for me¡±

    Scriled, a well built man with long light brown hair was the captain of one of the best Seeker teams in Gureis. He resumed fishing for the pin to tie up the bun of hair on his head. After all, it was gifted to him by his wife on their first anniversary. He always made it a note to wear the pin at all times, adopting the hairstyle he currently had on.

    ¡°Hm? You looking for the pin again Scri?¡±

    Another person walked in, this time a woman. With a small and petite body accompanied by her freckled face, Naiva was not one to be judged based on her appearance. Contrary to the studious look her spectacles gave off, Naiva was one of the head knights in the Gureis knight order. Her combat potential made her one of the most needed people in the Knight Order.

    ¡°It¡¯s been missing aall this time Naiva! And this idiot Humdee won¡¯t even help me find it!¡±

    Along with a murderous glare, Scriled kicked off a pile of clothes on the floor towards Humdee.]

    ¡°Oi! That¡¯s disgusting that is! We haven¡¯t washed this you moron!¡±

    He struggled to get out of the pile of filth, and Naiva chuckled at the sight.

    ¡°You guys are as rowdy as always. But I didn¡¯t expect this from you Scriled¡±

    ¡°Huh? Expect what?¡±

    Scriled¡¯s face distorted in confusion, as he immediately began guessing what he had done wrong. Due to his wife always pointing out his faults, he had developed such a habit.

    ¡°The Guard captain called you, and you¡¯re late? Even the captain was surprised¡±

    ¡°Oh that. I just¡­ need to find my pin!¡±

    Naiva sighed and began to walk away.

    ¡°Just make sure you get there. And here¡±

    She picked up something from among the pile of trash and tossed it towards Scriled. Startled, he quickly caught it with his mouth. As he recognised the item, he couldn¡¯t help but grin.

    ¡°Fanfoo Faiaa~!¡±

    She laughed quietly as she swung the door shut behind her. Scriled quickly finished tying up his hair with the pin and then proceeded to take out the armor from his room. A red and gold armour without sleeves. That was all the armor that a Seeker required.

    He traced the words that he himself had inscribed on the armour as he wore it.

    Amelia

    I wonder how she¡¯s doing now. It¡¯s been awhile since she got to see her pops hasn¡¯t it¡­ Almost two years. Heh.. The last time I saw her she was struggling to say ¡®Mama¡¯....

    Scriled couldn¡¯t help but sigh as he reminisced about his past. Because he had to work for the king of Gureis, he had no choice but to leave his family in the neighbouring cities rather than in the capital. The King of Gureis was pretty tyrannical, and no one ever wanted anything bad to happen to their families.

    All prepared, Scriled set off to meet the guard captain.

    ¡°Ah Scriled, you¡¯re here¡±

    The war rugged guard captain, Sayeed turns to face Scriled as he walks into the Guardsroom. The place was as dingy as ever, with the paint peeling off the walls. The king rarely cared about his subjects, so this place becoming like this was only an eventuality.

    Some of the guards and knights sat around tables in the lobby as they chatted about the latest missions they were sent to. Near the back of the huge room there was a desk arranged, and Sayeed sat there.

    His face looked as if it were mutilated with the old puckered scar running down his face across his eye. Even though he was a fierce warrior, Sayeed could no longer perform on the field anymore. He could only perform the role of the secretary, handling paper work and dispatches.

    There was no hint of the light brown hair that was quite frequent in these areas on the head of the bald Sayeed.

    ¡°Hey, my eyes are down here¡±

    Sayeed grunted, turning his attention back towards the pile of papers on his desk.

    ¡°You called captain?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Here you go. Your next assignment. Get it done, Pronto. Right now. King¡¯s orders.¡±

    Sayeed placed an envelope at the edge of his table, and gestured Scriled to take them. Bewildered at the sudden assignment, he quickly took the envelope and tore it open.

    ¡°Hunt the traitor? Why should we leave now? We can track him down easily! And evidence suggests that he¡¯s going towards Qutyis right? We won¡¯t be able to find him there¡±

    ¡°Did I say, it¡¯s the King¡¯s direct orders?¡±

    Sayeed spoke menacingly, his eyes travelling towards Scriled¡¯s face. Sighing at the terrified look on Scriled, he proceeded to explain himself.

    ¡°Look Scriled. Just do it. The job¡¯s for you cuz your Nightstalkers is one of the best Seeker teams out there. The traitor is on the loose, hunt him down. See? Is there any problem?¡±

    Scriled remained silent, not even daring to raise his voice anymore. The ¡®conversation¡¯ had already ended.

    ¡°They¡¯ll be sending some knights with you. Get that Venturus brat killed quickly.¡±

    Sayeed turned back to his paperwork, ignoring the astounded Scriled. Still not understanding some of it, Scriled walked back towards his quarters. After all, his vacation to visit his family just got cancelled.

    *****************************

    ¡°Hm? Where do we begin searching, Scri?¡±

    The blonde Humdee muttered as he rubbed his skinny hands together to warm himself up. Humdee always got cold quite quickly.

    In the lonely streets of Qutyis, four figures walked rather quickly. They all wore grey cloaks with the hoods covering their faces. From time to time, one could make out sounds of conversation coming from them.

    Scriled surveyed every nook and cranny of the street he was passing through. He was quite agitated at this surprise mission, and was determined to complete it quickly so that he could go back and meet his family.

    The chilly night wind whipped against their skin, almost freezing them. Nights in Gureis were pretty intense. Scriled wrapped his cloak even tighter, attempting to keep out the cold. He kept rotating a coin in the palm of his hand as he used his Seeking magic on the surroundings.

    The magic trace is really thick here. But something feels off¡­

    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    Scriled continued searching with his friend, Humdee. The best ¡®team¡¯ of Seekers, the Nightstalkers. (Yes, I know it¡¯s a duo)

    The knight group was currently resting in a nearby inn. Of course, they also had their respective jobs. To deliver the ¡®tribute¡¯ to the Slave trader¡¯s Union so that they could get information on the purchases Klaus made. They could easily track him down if they got something to trace along with Klaus.

    Magic tracing was simple. It worked on perception and intuition. To perceive the remains of magic that every individual leaked, to be able to sniff out and isolate the needed trace. Then, to use magic to intuitively know where the trail leads. It almost felt like the Seekers get pulled towards that direction mentally. But thicker remains meant that a Seeker would have a hard time finding trails because it would overshadowed by the huge source.

    Perhaps I should check out the slave market too. Who knows, perhaps I might find something of interest.

    Scriled tossed the coin as he thought so.

    ¡°Oi Humdee, we¡¯re gonna go to the auction place. Something tells me we¡¯ll find something there.¡±

    ¡°Hm? Oh Alright¡±

    Humdee immediately agreed, as he rarely ever took a tracking mission seriously. He was only required in specific situations, and Scriled could handle the rest himself.

    Scriled walked into the auction place, feeling slightly disgruntled as he saw the slaves locked up in the cages around him. Right now the auction was over, but it would start up again tomorrow. There were some workers here and there, cleaning up the place.

    We¡¯re running out of time. I need to find this noble. And fast.

    Pressed by the deadline of his daughter¡¯s upcoming birthday, Scriled felt that he needed to quickly finish up this work. Humdee had already wandered off, attracted by the sight of the slaves. He might even buy some. Humdee always had perverse tendencies, but he was a trustworthy friend in Scriled¡¯s opinion.

    The trace is extremely thick here. He was definitely here.

    Scriled looked towards the Slave Trader Union¡¯s office, his eyes zoning in on the gold being given to the Unionmaster as bribe. Scriled couldn¡¯t help but feel irritated at the sight. The Seekers could easily figure out his whereabouts from here.

    Alright. I¡¯ll just have to use it then.

    Making sure that no one was looking, Scriled closed his eyes and concentrated. He willed the magic around him, the pure energy that powered every existence in this world to enter and permeate his body.

    The pure white energy slowly entered his body, and Scriled gradually distributed it all across his nerves. The energy was now infused with him, empowering him. The art of Seeker magic.

    A sample of every remnant magic trace entered Scriled. He then had to assort through them, and find the one he needed to track.

    Scriled stood there meditating as he gradually categorised each type of magic remnant. Then finally, he found the right one.

    He opened his eyes, and his irises were tinged with a pale white light. He looked towards the magic trace and embraced it, learning its every trait and every aspect of it that made it unique. His eyes could then see the magic trace. He then diverted his eyes towards the coin in his hand.

    A perfect match

    The coin was a thing Klaus frequently used. He had apparently left it behind when he fled, but the magic trace on it was practically irremovable.

    But then, Scriled¡¯s eyes noticed something else.

    A boy. A boy who was one of the workers. He had dirty yellow hair, and had a body so weak that he looked like he¡¯d die any second. But that was not what attracted his attention. The back of the boy.

    On his back, a magic trace was imprinted.

    A kick? Seems like it.

    Scriled proceeded to walk towards the boy, intent on finding out what he knew. He was connected to the noble without doubt. And with luck, he could end up shortening the entire capture assignment.

    With swift moves, Scriled covered the mouth of the boy and restrained him. After all, he was not allowed to search here until the Traders Union allowed it. But Scriled had broken the law, so he had to resort to such measures. The boy squirmed and tried to worm his way out of Scriled¡¯s grasp, but he was just too weak.

    Scriled quickly carried the boy off into one of the alleys, and then spoke to him in a whisper.

    ¡°I will take my hand off your mouth now. But if you yell, I WILL kill you¡±

    Scriled would never kill the kid. After all, he even had a daughter. But a little enticement was necessary to have him spill the truth.

    After a moment, the kid nodded. He let go off him, and the kid pushed him away, landing on his knees. He turned to look at Scriled fearfully. Scriled inwardly sighed at seeing him like that. For a moment, he wondered how he would feel if his daughter did something like that.

    ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll get right to the point. Someone kicked you recently. Who is it?¡±

    Realisation dawned on the kid as his eyes widened. He looked down for awhile, thinking hard.

    ¡°I-it¡¯as a man wearin a whete musk, he was.¡±

    His voice was hoarse, and without doubt, he was someone who never learnt to speak properly. Scriled took a deep breath to calm himself, and listened intently to the nearly illegible words of the kid.

    ¡°He¡­ he wor a long cloh, coverin¡¯ his hea¡¯ an all, I couldn see it¡±

    ¡°See what?¡±

    ¡°It.. his¡­ um.. His¡±

    He gestured towards his face. Scriled nodded and asked him to continue.

    ¡°An then, he wah in hurri real. He want me pack fast. An then left wih three people¡­ older. Two men and.. A¡­¡±

    He gestured towards his chest, and Scriled immediately understood. He wanted to chuckle, but barely held it in.

    ¡° He..he.. Kicked me..¡±

    Scriled nodded and patted the kid¡¯s head.

    ¡°Thanks kid¡±

    He tossed him a few gold coins and walked away from the kid. But in the kid¡¯s eyes, the gold coins were like gifts from heaven. For him to obtain such a reward was just unthinkable.

    Sclerid chuckled as he heard the joyful yells of the boy. Maybe he should have tossed a few more coins?

    But it was already easy for Sclerid now. Now that he knew that Klaus had left the city, he could easily hunt him down. Sclerid immediately set off towards the Union¡¯s meeting, intending to break it up so that he could save the king some money at least.

    AUTHOR''s NOTES:

    Nexus here.

    You might have noticed my comment in the midst of the novel. Well, yes. I know that two people are called a duo. And that I shouldn''t technically called them a team. Big surprise, I''m a pantser, so I just made it up as I went along. It has served its purpose.

    A few more chapters involving Klaus and the battle, and then the story snaps back to " How to survive being a demon lord''s experimental clone 101" Kudos~!

    And so, Humdee wandered the slave markets forever, relishing the sights of naked wom-- Just kidding!

    Thx for reading~! XD XD

 Chapter 20:The Traitors Amongst Us

    Scriled hurried towards the Union centre, intent on breaking up the meeting. After all, he obtained what he needed. Pursuing any more information by wasting that much gold was just foolish.

    It was on the 22nd of Redmoon, and the sun was already rising, with orange streaks of light painting the dark sky. The chilly wind of dusk had died down, being replaced with a rising heat. The cloak was already starting to feel stuffy for Scriled, but he couldn¡¯t bother enough to take it off. After all, time was of the essence.

    The dark doors loomed before him like a guardian, threatening to crush him if he dared to attack. Ignoring the enchantments that were cast on it, Scriled pushed hard against the door, sending it flying open.

    The crash of the door against the door blocks behind sent a dull echo throughout the room. Scriled stepped in, only his silhouette visible amongst the dust that had risen. He walked inside and ignored the astounded clerk at the desk. His pale eyes were already using the Seeker¡¯s magic. A trail of magic appeared before him, leading him to where he needed to be. Naiva¡¯s trail was really distinct, since her magic was formidable. He swiftly walked through the halls of the building, occasionally finding traces of Klaus here and there.

    It¡¯s no surprise. After all, he was here to buy some slaves.  It¡¯d be more surprising if he didn¡¯t leave a trail.

    The two armoured guards blocked the room where the trail led to. As Scriled arrived before them, the burly men brandished their pikes, blocking his path.

    ¡°Halt! What is your business?,¡± one of the guards declared, his atmosphere domineering.

    ¡°My name is Scriled, one of the Seekers of the Knight party from Gureis. My captain is inside, and there¡¯s urgent news I need to report to him.¡± Scriled had half a mind to just push them away and enter, but he knew that there were some social etiquettes even he had to display. The guard paused, then nodded towards the other guard.

    The taller guard knocked thrice on the door, and then spoke ¡°Seeker Scriled here to speak. Allow permission?¡±

    Scriled could hear some faint mumbling here, after which something more distinct emerged. ¡°Let him in¡±

    The guard immediately opened the doors, and Scriled walked in, half removing his fur cloak as he did so. The heat had already begun to permeate the building, and he had no wish to cook himself inside the cloak. He was greeted by a familiar sight, one that he had seen more than a couple times before. People sitting around a circular table with a serious atmosphere. He always hated meetings like this. The knights were seated at one side of the table, and the slave traders sat facing them. In the middle of the traders sat a particularly fat man. His olive skin and the sly look in his green eyes immediately made Scriled distrust him.

    ¡°Scriled? What is it?.¡± Hearing a familiar voice, Scriled immediately turned towards Naiva. Her hands were on the table, and her demeanour suggested the deal wasn¡¯t going so well.

    ¡°Please, take a seat,¡± the fat well dressed man spoke, directing Scriled to sit beside Naiva. He had half a mind to just tell Naiva to leave, but there were many other matters to attend to before that. He nodded curtly and sat beside her.

    ¡°Now then, as we were saying before your ¡®friend¡¯ came in, the Union simply cannot reveal information like that. After all, we maintain a certain level of professionalism.¡± The fat man declared, crossing his hands as he kept watching Naiva, waiting for her next move. Of course, Scriled could easily guess his intentions. He was a merchant after all. Profit was all that mattered to him. Naiva sighed, unable to make a decision.

    ¡°Let¡¯s leave Naiva,¡± Scriled whispered in her ear. Naiva immediately stiffened, and turned to glare at him. ¡°What, are you an idiot Scri? We need to do this mission! Did you forget who our king was?!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not it. I already got a trail. We don¡¯t need these guy¡¯s help. The sooner we leave, the faster we catch that brat¡±

    Naiva¡¯s look turned to one of understanding and she turned towards the trader. His cocky attitude had disappeared, replaced with a look of wariness. ¡°You were right Lord Gremon. We should not have pried this much. We shall be taking our leave now¡± Naiva said curtly, but Scriled could sense the triumph in her voice. After all, this guy was just irritating her all this time. He briefly saw the trader¡¯s face change to that of frustration, but he quickly switched to his work face.

    Hmph. Serves you right. You should have just taken it when you could.

    ¡°We¡¯re thankful that you understand Ms Naiva¡± the fat man said and Scriled could almost hear him gritting his teeth as he said it.

    Nodding, Naiva and the rest stood up from the table, and promptly left the room. Scriled sneaked a glance at the trader just before the doors shut. It was absolutely hilarious.

    ¡°Good thing you came in Scri. I was just about to cut his head off.¡±

    ¡°Well then, it definitely is a good thing¡±

    Naiva chuckled, and then looked inquisitively at him. ¡°Where¡¯s Humdee? He was with you right?¡±

    ¡°Ah, there were some uh.... naked slaves outside...¡± Scriled sighed, exasperated.

    ¡°Oh right. Will he be back by sundown?¡± Naiva nodded understandingly, already used to Humdee¡¯s actions.

    ¡°Hopefully.¡±

    The Knights Order walked out of the building, their minds already working on how to capture Klaus.

    *************************************

    The sound of his footsteps echoed through the empty corridor as he walked through it. There was an irregularity in his gait, almost as if he had a limp. The sounds alternated between that of a heavy thump and a metallic clink.

    ¡°Master Altrock¡± The guards in front of the council¡¯s hall bowed and greeted him in unison.

    Altrock nodded and the guards immediately opened the gilded doors, decorated with the carving of branches and leaves. The doors slid smoothly against the milky white floor and Altrock walked into the room, looking around proudly.

    It gave off a rich feeling, with the sunlight filtering in through the tinted windows in the back of the room. In the centre of the room was a large table, with maps and charts on it. Altrock¡¯s eyes ran past the symbols and writings, and locked on to the people in the room.

    ¡°Well well, look who¡¯s here?¡± One of the people in the room said as he brushed his bright yellow hair back.

    ¡°Creune¡± Altrock curtly acknowledged him. After all, he did not have a very good relationship with Creune, another one of the demon commanders. Creune always competed with him to see who¡¯d do the best. And he won every time. In terms of cunning and technique, Creune was nigh unbeatable.

    ¡°What is this about Altrock? You summoned the council today so urgently too. What of your mission? We heard there were some.... mishaps at the laboratory?¡± An old woman questioned him, her faint silver hair cut short.

    ¡°Yeah that¡¯s right Al! What happened? And where are the others? Augustus? Lucia?¡± The third in command of the demon army, Kwarius inquired, his scarred face distorting in confusion.

    Altrock took a deep breath, and began to speak. ¡°There were some... incidents at the facility. To begin with, Augustus conducted the experiment, and all was good. Then, the human version of the Demon Lord... went berserk. Half berserk¡±

    ¡°Half berserk?! That¡¯s impossible!¡± The old woman declared, her face contorting in shock. Altrock understood her sentiment. After all, the only instance when half berserk was observed was in the synthetic army of the Dothrals. The ¡®sentinels¡¯ they created would go into a half crazed state, attacking enemies with terrifying ferocity and vitality. Humans, demons, Dwarves, Elves, every race on this land learnt how terrifying the power they displayed was.

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    ¡°I thought the same thing at first when I saw him Paitiria. But then I saw him fight. Berserk or not, his targets were always set. He never went on a crazed murder spree. Rather, he went for the first one who attacked him. Not only that, he waited for him to approach¡± Altrock explained, his voice tinged with the slightest bit of excitement.

    ¡°Half berserk? If we can harness its power, then..¡± A bespectacled person pitched in, her voice suddenly emerging from the corner of the room. Of course, Altrock had already sensed her, but most would never be able to detect her presence.

    After all, she¡¯s the Shadow. The master spy of the Empire. But I don¡¯t think I¡¯d be able to detect her if she were serious.

    ¡°Hold your horses Shadow. There¡¯s more. After that I was about to kill him along with the hero that appeared then¡ª¡°

    ¡°Woah wait! Hero? You never mentioned anything about a hero Al!¡± Creune exclaimed, nervous. After all, a hero was the powerhouse of the human¡¯s army. Even Altrock would have some trouble with him.

    ¡°Oh right I forgot. When the kid went berserk, the hero showed up with Gjaltrosia and fought him. One of the hero¡¯s friends killed Lucia. So I just gathered them all up and went for the kill. And then... Niantal showed up.¡±

    ¡°Niantal?! What did he have to do there?¡± Paitiria asked. Altrock began shaking slightly, as he placed his hand against the prosthetic leg he had. It would take him a while to regain his old leg, but the humiliation he suffered was much more painful than that.

    ¡°He intervened, and took the hero away. Then... He blew up my leg, and used the bodies of the hero¡¯s friends to do a suicide bombing on us.¡± Altrock tapped his metal leg, and Paitria widened her eyes. He sighed, depressed at his carelessness.

    ¡°Trickery... Those church bastards go on and on about holy teachings and such, but after all they can only do such things to win against us¡± Shadow spoke again but Altrock could distinguish the anger in her voice.

    ¡°Then let¡¯s take the fight to them! We¡¯ll show those stupid humans what it means to mess with us! They get all cocky if one of the idiot gods blessed them and decide to go against us?! It¡¯s all because we wasted our time with these Demon Lord creation garbage! After all, the strongest man is the Demon lord! That is, no was our law! How else did Lord Neeram become such a splendid Demon Lord?!¡± Creune yelled out, banging his fist against the table.

    ¡°I never thought I¡¯d say this but... Creune might be right this time around.¡± Kwarius finally spoke, crossing his arms. His face was grim, but Altrock could guess that he was already formulating the plan to annihilate the humans. Every one of them was mad at what the humans did. After all, they dared to attack the demons.

    ¡°Hold on. There¡¯s more isn¡¯t there Altrock?¡±, Paitiria noted, looking at the solemn expression on Altrock¡¯s face.

    ¡°Yes. And this might be the worst of all.¡± Altrock took a deep breath, and then said, ¡°Augustus is a traitor. He attempted to poison me, and he might have killed Orthius too.¡±

    For a second, there was silence in the hall. Everyone took some time to comprehend what Altrock said. One of their kin was a traitor. What did that mean? There could be more. Right this moment, the demons could be in grave danger.

    The demons prided themselves on the fact that no matter how much they fought amongst themselves, they¡¯d never betray their own kin. In a war to protect their own kind, the demons would unhesitatingly leave their backs to their comrades, even if he were an enemy in some old feud between them.

    ¡°Haha.. You¡¯re kidding right, Altrock...?¡± Creune muttered, a half smile on his face. His eyes were wide, indicating the shock he just received. But his smile faltered even more, looking at Altrock¡¯s grave face. This was not a joke.

    Sighing, Altrock continued ¡°The Augustus that was with us was a fake. Some kind of golem. Perhaps it was something that is impersonating him, but based on his words... I highly doubt that¡¯s the truth. In the worst case, there might several more of those... golems out there.¡±

    The silence in the hall was interrupted by the cry of the raven that entered the room. It came and sat on the table, moving restlessly as it showed its claw to Paitria. With trembling hands, Paitria untied the note that was tied on it, fumbling as she did it. The news from Altrock was shocking to Paitria. She never expected it to happen. After all, Augustus was like a son to her.

    The silence continued as she opened and read the piece of paper. Creune was still in shock, his smile still plastered on his face as if he were broken. Kwarius just stood still, his expression grim. There was no response from Shadow, but Altrock could feel that she was still here.

    ¡°Haa..¡± Paitria held her hand against her mouth, her eyes widening in shock. Altrock immediately got curious, and the others turned their sight towards her. She crumpled up the paper, her knuckles turning white as she held it tightly in her fist.

    ¡°I-It¡¯s from the Port... They just confirmed the presence of the kingdom¡¯s armada moving towards here... ¡° Paitria said. Altrock couldn¡¯t help but exclaim at this. An attack?! At this time? How could it be?!

    ¡°The flags...It¡¯s of the Church¡¯s. They¡¯re declaring war on us... Also...¡± Paitria paused, taking in a deep breath.

    ¡°It seems all the soldiers who were meant to keep watch were slaughtered... The search party apparently found traces of demon magic...¡±

    ¡°So there are traitors... And it may be more than we figured¡± Creune whispered.

    Rather than wallow in sadness and shock, Altrock immediately kicked into action. ¡°Ships?! Where are they attacking?!¡±

    His yell snapped everyone out of their trances. They immediately came to their senses, recognising the fact that the problem at hand needs to be dealt with first.

    ¡°It¡¯s... towards Suparia...¡±

    AUTHOR!!!

    Nexus here!

    Heya! Another update to Demon Lord''s here!\

    If there''s any of you wondering when the story is gonna get a move on, it will. Definitely.

    Also, to readers who read my other fiction, Tale of A Slayer

    Great news! I''ve been working on it, and have started working on a more solid plot. There will be quite a few changes from before. You have been warned.

    I worked out the entire latter half of the story. With the villain, the final battle, the stuff preceding it, everything! Also figured out the start. But the bridge between start and the finish, the subplots required, and all the other stuff. That''s troubling me a bit. I''ll solve it in no time though. I wanted to write the first chapter for ToS today, but figured I''d do a re run and finish the story line before I just go wild.

    Oddly enough, after I finished the plot of my story (only the finish) I kinda felt really sad that it was over. I don''t know what you lot think, but being a plotter doesn''t take out the creativity out of a story, it takes out the.. expectations ''you'' as a writer and reader have as you progress through the story. Write what you want to read guys.

    Nexus Out! Deuces~!

 Chapter 21: The Battle in the Night

    The night wind was cool yet strangely harsh as it bit against any exposed skin. Scriled pulled his cloak in tighter, trying to keep himself as warm as he could. He shivered occasionally, which made his teeth chatter. Naiva glared at him every time he did that, but he could only chuckle.

    ¡°You¡¯re absolutely sure he¡¯s coming this way?¡± Naiva asked, her eyes scanning the road before them.

    ¡°Absolutely. I can see the trail getting closer even now¡± Scriled replied, rubbing his hands together. No matter how many years he was in the Knights Order, Scriled could never bear too much cold. Of course, he could do it if the situation demanded it, but he was sure that he¡¯d be the first one to die if a snowstorm blew through there. Right after he killed Humdee of course.

    The man in question sat quite a distance away from him, playing with his new toy. Occasional sounds of gasping could be heard, but the group just tried to ignore it.

    After all, Humdee was always like this. A wild card

    Scriled still remembered how he met Humdee as clear as day.

    The scrawny blonde man walked into the Seeker¡¯s room, and Scriled glared at him with disapproving eyes. The man- Humdee was his name- was half naked, with his tunic tied on his dead. ¡®Drunk¡¯, concluded Scriled. Scriled was still a new recruit compared to the others, but his ¡®talents¡¯ made him a valuable force in the Knights Order. The king even went as far to hide him from the Empire¡¯s occasional checkup of the army. Scriled sighed, looking at the sorry excuse of a man who was currently scratching his crotch as he kept looking at Sayeed expectantly. After a while, Sayeed opened his mouth to speak, but the man cut in as if he were waiting for that moment ¡°So, where¡¯s my desk?¡±

    Scriled laughed as he remembered it. Humdee was certainly an oddball. But he was sort of like Scriled. His talents made him a covetable gem in some situations, while in others he was someone that everyone just wanted to bury a knife in.

    He turned his sight towards the group sitting behind him. A contingent of 15 knights, fully armoured and equipped. The king really wanted this noble brat murdered. Apparently, he was a traitor.

    The king has pardoned tons of traitors before this one. What was the thing he did?

    They were now near Bridle, a city famous for its wool. Scriled would have taken a week to track down Klaus, and maybe another day to deduce his route and get ahead of him. But thanks to the approaching end of the Redmoon, his magic was getting stronger, and he could find him in half a day. In the hour of the Moon goddess, it¡¯d get much stronger.

    ¡°But man, his horses sure are fast aren¡¯t they?¡± Scriled asked, wanting to stir up some conversation. The other knights sat in groups, just chatting to pass the time until he arrived.

    ¡°Tell me about it. I exhausted three of my gems to teleport us here.¡± Naiva murmured, picking at her cloak as she did so.

    ¡°This would have been so much more easier if he¡¯d just teleported.¡± Scriled said. ¡°Yeah, the anti teleport barrier would have caught him like a mouse... Maybe that¡¯s why he didn¡¯t do so? You know, that actually does make sense¡± Naiva grinned sarcastically as she said it.

    Scriled chuckled and then diverted his eyes towards the night sky. The moon was at the apex of the sky, showering the world with its bloody rays. But like it was weakening, the red light was slowly fading. Like a dream.

    ¡°So... What happened?¡± Naiva asked him. Scriled looked at her, puzzled. What was there to happen? ¡°Oh god... You know, you¡¯re acting so uptight since coming here. What happened Scri?¡±

    Scriled sighed before replying. ¡°This... Ahem... Today was supposed to be the day when I could go and visit them again¡± Naiva looked shocked, and then placed her hand on his shoulder. Scriled smiled wryly at her.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry Scri... If I had known...¡± she trailed off, her voice sounding unsure. That was just how the king was. And Sayeed had turned into his lapdog. ¡°It¡¯s fine Naiva. After all, I can just meet them after I return. Surely Sayeed won¡¯t deny it this time around. ¡° he said, and she nodded understandingly.

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s that¡± Scri said, getting up from the rock he was sitting on. Naiva looked up at him, curious.

    Scriled turned his gaze towards the bushes and yelled ¡°Oi Humdee! I know you sensed it too! Come over here!¡± Scriled could distinctly hear someone mumbling angrily. After a while, the blonde man emerged, his armour shabbily worn and his hair tousled.

    Scriled turned towards the group of knights then. ¡°Alright men... and women. Klaus is coming this way as you all know, and he¡¯ll be here in.... about ten minutes. It is a bit earlier than we expected, so I suspect he''s moving faster to throw off our advantage. So don''t expect the Moon goddess''s blessing. Nevertheless, get to work!¡± he said and walked off into the clearing. This close, he could sense the magic trace moving towards him at incredible speeds.

    He heard the thumps as the knights moved, archers taking their positions and warriors readying their weapons.

    Alright then. Let¡¯s get this guy and go back home.

    Scriled waited patiently. There was a reason he picked this place to prepare an ambush. Klaus would get here a short time before the hour of the Moon goddess would start, and the slope next to the road would serve as the perfect vantage point for the archers.

    The path curved around the mountain, and most of it was covered by forests. The exit of the forest was where they planned the attack. Klaus had undoubtedly bought slaves, and they could be dangerous for all they knew. Scriled could hear the marksmen nocking their bows, and the familiar sound of the arrow¡¯s string being pulled back.

    The carriage emerged out of the woods with a terrifying gait, the horse¡¯s hooves thudding against the ground heavily as it ran out of the forest. In the front there was a woman and a bulky man. Scriled could make out a shield next to the man.

    Well then, it was nice meeting you, Klaus Venturus.

    He signaled the archers, gesturing with his fingers as he did so.

    It was quite pleasing to hear the hissing of the air as the arrows streaked through the night sky. Arrows painted black to suit their purpose.

    The arrows whizzed through the air, heading quickly towards the horses and the coachman¡¯s seat. But to Scriled¡¯s dismay, the woman noticed the arrows too. She prodded the man, who took his shield and held it up.

    The painful neigh of the horse echoed through the night as the horses went crashing down, arrows sticking out of their necks. They veered off course, sending the carriage tumbling down the road. Scriled watched as the two jumped off, rolling to avoid taking damage.

    Let¡¯s see how you do in round two.

    Scriled gestured again, and watched expectantly as the arrows were fired again. But, he saw the man scramble to his feet, shield in hand. He planted the giant shield into the ground and stood there like an insurmountable wall. The woman was already on her feet, and she quickly hid behind the nearest trees. Scriled cursed, and then did the second gesture.

    He charged along with the trained 12 knights of the Order. Accompanying him was Naiva and Humdee. The rest were assigned as archers, ready to fire at any moment. Scriled then remembered the carriage and looked towards it. What he saw was two men climbing out of it. In one¡¯s hands¡ª a Lingnis tribesman¡¯s¡ªwas a small bundle. Scriled immediately got curious, and beckoned Naiva. She looked towards where he was looking and nodded. The two split off from the main group and headed towards them.

    The other man was fully cloaked, and all Scriled could make out of his face looked like a mask.

    Most probably it¡¯s the target.

    Scriled drew the shortswords from its sheaths, the sound of the metal sounding pleasant to his ears. Although Scriled did not enjoy killing, he did like fighting. Not to the extent of being a battle maniac, but he still liked it.

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    Copying him, everyone else did the same. Naiva pulled out her rapier and headed in quickly. The Lingnis man dropped the bundle and drew his greatsword.

    It¡¯ll be finished if that hit me. Good thing it¡¯s two on one.

    Just like he guessed, he saw the cloaked man scamper off into the woods. Nobles were only good for spending money after all. His shortsword gleamed as it reflected the light of the moon.

    The warrior slouched, his greatsword grasped with his hands. He stared carefully at them, watching their every move. Scriled could instantly guess that he was experienced in fights. Hopefully not too experienced.

    Scriled dashed in to the warrior¡¯s range, and then he finally saw movement-barely. The warrior shifted slightly. To the untrained eye, it would look like he was fidgeting. But Scriled could see what he was doing. He immediately jumped back. The man moved again.

    By the gods! He¡¯s not leaving any openings! He¡¯s obviously an experienced warrior. Maybe even more than me.

    He looked towards Naiva and she nodded. Scriled then restarted his attack. He dashed in again, his daggers already moving for the man¡¯s throat.

    In the next second, his arm was caught. The speed was inhumane, but the man firmly grasped Scriled¡¯s arm with his thick arm. He winced as he felt the crushing force of his arm. Not willing to give up, Scriled twisted around the man¡¯s arm, and wielded his other dagger, rotating it as he sent it piercing down on the man¡¯s arm.

    But to his dismay, the man had other plans. He raised his arm, and with a blinding speed, slammed his arm against the hard ground, Scriled along with it.

    Scriled could barely create a magic cushion to stop himself from dying. The impact jarred his head, but without stopping, he stabbed the man¡¯s hand with his dagger. The blade made a squelching sound as it pierced through his thick dark skin, blood spraying like a fountain. Scriled twisted and wriggled the blade, making more blood spray. The man winced as he did so, and threw him away.

    Scriled jumped to his feet, and surveyed the situation again.

    At least he still feels pain. I was worried that he might be an unfeeling murderer or something.

    Naiva was jumping around the man, using her superior speed to stab him here and there with her Needle. The man¡¯s back was covered with trails of blood, but it wasn¡¯t enough. Most of her attacks were being stopped by that thick skin.

    What is he made of? It¡¯s like he¡¯s wearing leather as padding.

    But even with her speed, Naiva had trouble. She had to find chinks in the steel armor he was wearing if she wanted to any damage. But if she were to attack from the front, the man would quite easily catch her¡ªScriled had seen his speed¡ªor use that greatsword of his.

    Scriled looked back, and was relieved to see that the knights were still overpowering the two. If they could finish them, then the knights could support their fight.

    No. We should set an example to them.

    Finishing his checkup, Scriled dashed off towards the man. His eyes briefly looked at him, and then went back towards Naiva. He still hadn¡¯t used his sword. And it would be by no means easy if he did.

    Scriled ran in an arc around the man, leading his eyes towards him. Naiva took advantage of this moment and drove her sword through the man¡¯s neck. His face contorted and then he swung his fist at her. At this moment Scriled dove in, his daggers aiming for the thighs.

    With a satisfying squelch accompanied by a spray of blood, the twin daggers pierced through his thigh, the jagged ends of the blade feasting on the flesh. With a painful yell, the man turned his attention towards him, his fist moving towards Scriled¡¯s head.

    In the very same instant, Naiva jumped at his face and straddled his neck. She raised her needle high above her, aiming for the man¡¯s eyes. Alarmed, the man dropped his greatsword¡ªIt raising a dust cloud as it did so¡ªand his hands both headed towards her.

    Scriled twisted his blades away from each other, and drove them across his thigh, tearing a gash as he did so. He struggled to see through the blood spurting from it. Naiva took the moment he delayed to stab one of his eyes and jump away. Accompanying her, he drew out his blades and jumped away.

    By the gods, how heavy is that thing?!

    Scriled looked at the depression made by the greatsword. Naiva circled around the man and came near him.

    ¡°We should be able to finish this quickly¡± she said, her breathing a little ragged.

    ¡°Don¡¯t get too optimistic. He hasn¡¯t used his sword yet¡± Scriled warned her, cautious.

    ¡°And whose fault is that?¡± she playfully said and moved away again, sticking her tongue out as she did so.

    The man stood there, his hand over his bleeding eye. His left leg was drenched in blood.

    That should impede his movement. Not that he needs to. That guy¡¯s like a freaking mountain.

    He bent down and picked up the greatsword. Finally, thought Scriled. He twirled his dagger once, and then moved in.

    Fast!

    That was all he could think as he ducked, dodging the silver streak that was aimed for his head. Without pausing, the man raised it above his head and brought it down on Scriled¡¯s head. He attempted to move to the side, but it was too late. The movement only exposed his neck to the strike of the man.

    Scriled would have died if it hadn¡¯t been for Naiva. She dove in at the nick of time, kicking the arms of the man to divert its course. It barely missed.

    Blood sprayed as Scriled looked towards his hand. For a second, he couldn¡¯t comprehend what happened. Then, the pain hit him. He screamed and held the bleeding stump that his arm was reduced too.

    He heard Naiva curse as she winced in pain. Realising that she needed his help, he stood up, picking up the blade in his other hand.

    He felt light headed as the blood gushed out of him. He had to help her. She was his friend.

    He looked up, to see her tied up. Tied by some black viscous stuff. Scriled wearily looked back to the source of the black vines. It was Klaus.

    Dang it... He¡¯s a mage...

    He turned his vision back towards Naiva, as he staggered to his feet. He was losing blood, and it was a feat that he could stand despite that.

    His vision was getting blurry, but he could see that the man was raising his greatsword. Raising it high as he prepared to kill her too. Scriled knew what he had to do. He bit the inside of his cheeks, so hard that it bled. The momentary tinge of sharp pain cleared his vision, and he could think clearly. He bent his legs then, Scriled jumped.

    He jumped and drove the dagger through the man¡¯s jaw, up through the roof of his mouth. It lodged in there, but Scriled did not stop. He moved the dagger down, cutting the man¡¯s throat.

    With a gurgling sound, the man collapsed. Scriled couldn¡¯t maintain his consciousness anymore. The last thing he saw was the man coughing blood, his mouth overflowing with it, twitching as he did so.

    Sorry...

 Chapter 22: A Second Chance

    Footsteps echoed across the well lit halls as the blue haired man walked by. His golden eyes were filled with an inexplicable joy, and he kept scratching his thigh, as if unable to contain his excitement. Skipping every two steps, God¡¯s Apostle Niantal proceeded through the passage.

    The empty passage felt lonely as the winds howled through it. Niantal paid it no heed as he went further down the hallway. At the end of the path, there was a door.

    It looked like it was made of stone. People would surely mistake it for a tablet of sorts if it hadn¡¯t been for the finely wrought golden handles on them.

    Niantal pushed lightly against the doors, pushing it open as he simultaneously walked inside.

    He entered a huge room which gave off the feeling of a cathedral, with high ceilings and benches arranged in rows. At the end of the room was a raised podium, with a marble white railing separating it from the lower area.

    Niantal walked across the aisle, heading towards a figure that stood leaning on the podium. He could make out a bound book in the silhouette¡¯s hand, but Niantal had already figured out the identity of the person, just based on his pristine white clothes embroidered with red and gold. After all, only one person was allowed to wear it.

    ¡°Revered Prophet¡±

    The playful Niantal¡¯s smile vanished, replaced by a serious look. He went down on one knee and bowed his head down before the person.

    The sound of the book snapping shut echoed throughout the room. But Niantal did not move an inch. With faint steps, the figure moved into the light coming from the stained glass above, emerging from the shadows that hid his face.

    It revealed a face of magnificent yet terrible beauty. His hair was like moonlight, almost faintly glowing in the light. His perfectly straight nose and high cheekbones would make him a person that women would die for. But all that was ruined by his eyes.

    Pitch black.

    His eyes seemed like they were composed of darkness, sucking in every inch of light around. It gave off a feeling of an endless depth, one that would consume and corrupt another¡¯s soul. His eyes were like that of a dead fish¡¯s. It betrayed no emotion, and no one could guess what was going on in his mind.

    ¡°Niantal¡­ Why are you here?¡± A faint voice carried itself over to Niantal¡¯s ears. It was faint enough for none to hear it, but the voice was something that Niantal could perfectly hear. It inculcated in him a feeling of dread. But also a feeling of reverence.

    ¡°I left to save the hero Itsuki. The demons were attac-¡°Niantal attempted to explain, but his reply was cut short by the voice.¡± You really know how to justify yourself. I ordered you to attack the Demon continent. Why are you still here?¡±

    His voice carried a hint of irritation now, and even Niantal couldn¡¯t help but wince at it. After all, he is the Revered Prophet, the messenger of the gods.

    ¡°Yes my lord. I will leave immediately¡± Niantal complied, his voice quavering slightly. The man nodded and walked back, almost disappearing into the shadows.

    The moment Niantal felt the presence disappear; he heaved a sigh, relieved. His happy expression was long gone, and he stood up, his legs shaking slightly. Facing the Prophet always made Niantal nervous. He was like an alien existence. One that he could never hope to even touch.

    Should I have left the hero to die?

    No. Of course not. Niantal immediately recognized that fact. The heroes were an integral part in their plan, an important pawn. The only reason the revered Prophet did not punish him was because he saved him.

    Niantal shuddered as he wondered what would have happened had he failed to save the hero.

    He slumped on to the wooden bench, stretching his legs out as he did so. Niantal sighed, thinking about the long journey before him. He had to travel all the way to the Demon Continent, catching up to the armada too. Even with the Wind God¡¯s [Fly] and [Wind Rush], it¡¯ll take him at least a couple days to cross the Rixon Sea, give or take a few hours if he travelled without rest.

    I¡¯d have to use up a few of my Sanctus Trieste to do it¡­ It took me quite a lot to deal that damage on Altrock..

    Niantal smiled, his lips stretching from ear to ear as he remembered General Zeltris¡¯s reaction when he heard about Altrock¡¯s defeat at his hands. The Church had already begun developing¡ªplanning its ascension to the top of the Arialis¡ªas soon as it was formed. The Church¡¯s main weakness was its inferior strength. But with the arrival of the Prophet, it was not so anymore.

    Demon¡¯s continent huh¡­ I can have a bit of fun there too, I guess.

    Scriled sucked in a huge mouthful of air as he woke up, gasping and coughing as he did so. His mind was whirling around; his vision did not make sense to him. He waved his hands about, the events of the recent battle still fresh in his mind. He felt some hands trying to restrain him, but the panic he felt overpowered it. He pushed them away with all his strength, scrambling to his feet as he did so.

    He could hear voices; some yelping while the others were trying to say something.

    The whirlwind which was his mind was slowly settling down, and he could make sense of some of the things that was being spoken. But before that, he noticed something.

    A sense of incompletion. A nagging feeling that he lost something.

    Tentatively, he flexed his fingers, but it still left him feeling that something was wrong. He tenderly raised his left arm, bringing it towards his right, clasping over the arm.

    My god¡­ My arm¡­ He thought as his fingers closed over the empty space where his arm should have been. He didn¡¯t know what to say. For a second, he just felt an unbearable sense of emptiness. He stood there, his arm grasping the stump which was his right arm. His dominant arm.

    Slowly, Scriled finally began understanding the incoherent noises in the background. Realizing his mistake, he took a deep breath, averting the panic attack that was imminent. He looked towards the group, his sight now regaining its clarity. A small group of people stood there, wearing long white robes-the Knight¡¯s healers. They all had anxious looks on their faces, their arms raised in defense.

    Perhaps my waking up was quite shocking to them.

    Scriled straightened up from his slightly crouched position, and the healers visibly relaxed. A person wearing a hood-the head healer- stepped forward, his thin legs visibly trembling underneath the white robe as he stepped closer to Scriled.

    ¡°No need to be so scared Head healer. That aside, what happened?¡± Scriled decided to question him, hoping that he could inform him about what happened while he was out.

    The head healer took a deep breath and began speaking  ¡°Thanks to your assistance, the warrior was killed, preventing Naiva¡¯s death by his hands. The other knights quickly rushed in from the battle after they won, and the archer quickly sniped the noble. The mission is over.¡±

    ¡°Over? Huh. So I was out of it most of the time.¡± Scriled laughed weakly, his right shoulder feeling quite numb as he did so. He frowned as he tried to move it. But he could barely feel that part, much less move it. Noticing his trouble, the head healer immediately spoke up ¡°We used some of the pain killing concoctions on the wound, so your right shoulder might feel quite numb. Please do not move around too much¡±

    ¡°Where¡¯s Naiva?¡± Scriled nodded as he asked him.  The Head healer pointed towards a tent. Scriled thanked him as he left. He kept trying to rotate his shoulder, trying to get some blood in to his shoulder. It was heavily damaged, and the magical herbs would most probably repair the skin.

    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    But complete repair is impossible. After all, it costs too much to repair a single arm of mine, and even if I worked for a decade, I would get nowhere near the amount I actually needed. Still, losing an arm huh. Well, it could have been worse.

    Scriled thought to himself as he walked towards the tent. His head still felt quite light headed due to the extreme loss of blood. But the healers had done an excellent job. He might have died if it hadn¡¯t been for them.

    As he neared the camp, he could make out a group of people standing near a tree. Curious, he walked towards the group. They were obviously the knights that came with him. The chainmail they wore and the familiar figures assured him of that.

    As he got closer, he could see that they were all standing around in a semicircle, looking at something in between them. He craned his neck to see what was going on, but to no avail.

    One of the knights, a young lad with bright yellow hair noticed him, and his face immediately switched from a grim nature to a smile. He waved towards Scriled, smiling happily ¡°Captain Scriled! Are you well?¡±

    ¡°Ah yeah. I¡¯m alright¡± Scriled weakly raised his hand as he replied. The group notice this conversation and turn towards him, and everyone immediately begins to congratulate him. He felt quite embarrassed, but he knew that he can¡¯t just shy away because of this. Several of them clapped him on his back as he made his way through the crowd.

    At the forefront of the spectators stood Naiva. Her face was filled with worry as she looked towards the tree. Curious, Scriled diverted his eyes to where she was looking.

    A boy laid at the foot of the tree, a boy who looked young. His body had the tiniest bit of muscle on it, but the pale face and the sunken eyes were enough for Scriled to guess that he hadn¡¯t eaten for days. But what caught his attention the most was his face.

    Heok! The Demon Lord¡¯s descendant? That black hair¡­ There are less than a few with such hair. And the only kid among them is¡­

    Scriled confirmed his suspicions as he stood next to Naiva. No wonder she was worried. She was at a dilemma. Should she kill him? Of course, it¡¯s easy to just kill him and be on their way, but even Naiva had enough of a conscience to reconsider before killing a child.

    Naiva noticed his presence and turned her concerned eyes towards him. She was at a loss, that even Scriled could see.

    Well, I¡¯m glad to see that all these years didn¡¯t make her a killing machine..

    Sighing, Scriled raised his arm to pat her on the back. But he quickly remembered the loss. He looked quite troubled by it, and Naiva chuckled seeing it.

    ¡°Looks like you got a makeover¡± Naiva commented, the worry in her eyes lessening a bit,

    ¡°Sort of. How do I look?¡± Scriled joked, lifting his numb stump as he did so. Naiva laughed again, her tired voice gaining a bit more strength.

    ¡°Anyways, thank you for what you did for me back then Scri. I might have¡­¡± Naiva started, but Scriled cut short, interrupting her gratitude. ¡°What¡¯s the situation?¡±

    Naiva lightly smiled, and explained ¡°Obviously, he might be the Demon Lord¡¯s ¡­ descendant. I just don¡¯t know whether we should¡­¡± Her voice trailed off as she turned her eyes back to the child.

    A voice spoke up from the crowd, and both of them turned to look at the source. The brawny man had a hint of arrogance in his voice as he spoke ¡°I keep telling you, of course we should kill him Captain. It¡¯s the Demon lord¡¯s spawn!¡± Murmurs of agreement sprang up from the crowd, further troubling Naiva.

    Jeez¡­

    ¡°Are you sure about that? Just kill a kid because of his parent? Then would you be fine if we killed your child Braun?¡± Scriled sharply questioned him, his face serious. Naiva looked at him gratefully, almost making Scriled chuckle. The man stuttered, unable to answer.

    But another voice shot forward again. ¡°Who cares if we kill the Demon lord¡¯s spawn! It¡¯s a monster, and we should kill him. Isn¡¯t it that simple?¡± The scrawny man argued, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Scriled.

    Sigh¡­ Chunkien. He always had a thing against me¡­

    ¡°So what do you propose Chunkien? We just kill him? After all, even you know that we, the humans created him just to use him as a war tool. And now you¡¯ll just dispose of him? Despicable¡± Scriled said, turning to face Chunkien. The man cowered before his domineering presence. After all, Scriled isn¡¯t someone people can just go against.

    But other voices of protest were popping up. More and more audible than the others.

    This is bad. Maybe I shouldn¡¯t have intervened. I¡¯m from another unit altogether.

    ¡°Enough!¡± Naiva exclaimed, her fists shaking. ¡°Scriled is right. We can¡¯t just kill a kid. Our mission was to kill Klaus Venturus and anyone who gets in our way. I don¡¯t think our mission included killing random civilians?¡±

    ¡°But Captain¡­¡± as a voice emerged, Naiva glared at the source. ¡°If you have any complaints, duel me. You win, you become the captain and you can do as you wish! Otherwise, you listen to my orders. You are forbidden from talking about this after this. If I catch wind of any one of you blabbing¡­¡±

    At this, there were no more protests. Naiva walked off, sighing.

    ¡°We won¡¯t take care of the kid. We¡¯re just not killing him. Let¡¯s head to Bridle¡± She sighed, sounding even more tired than before.

    Hm. Saving him is more than what she can do anyways. She has done everything within her power to give him a chance. Naiva hasn¡¯t changed¡­ But¡­¡±

    Scriled turned to look at the kid, and the face of his daughter flashed before his eyes. Quite vividly, he still remembered how she looked as he saw her for the last time in ages.

    I wonder how she looks now¡­

    Filled with a strange sense of melancholy, Scriled spoke up. ¡°Wait¡±

    Naiva turned, her eyes quite curious as she looked towards Scriled.

    ¡°I¡¯m bringing him to Bridle with me. I¡¯ll vouch for the kid. Just until Bridle, Naiva. Please?¡± He almost begged her, startling Naiva. She was about to protest, before she hesitated again. She thought for awhile, and then responded ¡°Fine¡­ You won¡¯t let me say no anyways¡­ But only till Bridle. We¡¯ll be leaving back to Gureis after that, and no matter what you say,  I won¡¯t let you bring him there¡± She firmly said, half sighing as she spoke.

    ¡°Ou~!¡± Scriled responded cheerfully, and then immediately turned towards the boy.

    Now then, let¡¯s get you some food.

    AUTHOR!!

    Yallo! Nexus here!

    Happy news! The Scriled parts are over! Back to Nexus from next chap!

    Since it''s gonna be from Nexus''s POV from next chap, I met with a dilemma

    First person POV with Nexus like before, or the new third person limited POV I''m using with Scriled for Nexus?

    Feels kinda weird to refer to myself like that lol...