CHAPTER 10: When the Sky Burned Blue - Part 4
Cold sweat drenched Eiran's nape, his own heartbeat loud in his ears. His hand withdrew from the sword hilt. He was almost lost control.
The reality would not have unfolded that way because despite Sciast's relaxed demeanor, his strength was unfathomable. Even someone inexperienced in combat would not misjudge him. If he had truly attacked, Sciast would have crushed his helmet and head while picking his nose with the other hand.
“Hey!” Sciast turned, making his cold sweat wish it could hide back into his body. “You look pale. Report if you're sick. I don't want anyone ill on the ship.”
“I-I'm not. I–”
“ATTAAACK!” The shout cut off Eiran. Dozens of Isofean warriors emerged from hiding around them, weapons drawn.
“Told you your Artifica cannons were as useless as an impotent stud,” Sciast said.
“My objective is to resupply. Total destruction was never part of my origin set of goals,” Neuvane replied.
Eiran panicked like the other Terzionite sailors. He drew his sword, unsure who to aim at. Torchlight revealed fierce faces approaching from all directions. Among them were also those with Adventurer and Monster Hunter Guild insignias.
Before the two sides could engage, black figures emerged from the ground between them. They wore white masks and wielded dual-bladed daggers. Though Eiran had never seen them before, their reputation preceded them. They were the Terzionite shadow division, The Wraith.
Wraiths moved like a black wind, slicing through enemy ranks. Their dagger flashed, their swings were brief and always lethal. They killed their second victim before the first one hit the ground.
Eiran turned at the sound of clinking metal. The gleam of weapon made him raise his sword to block. From the clash, it was clear his enemy was exhausted. He pushed the enemy back. The distance allowed him to inspect his enemy.
“Jeth!” he cried out, muffled. Jeth's face was covered in wounds, but he could not be mistaken.
Jeth swung his axe, and he deflected it. “Jeth! It's me!” He whispered through clenched teeth, but Jeth kept attacking. He then tossed aside his helmet so Jeth could see clearly.
“Die, you Terzionite cur!” Jeth raised the axe above his head with both hands. Eiran stumbled backward and fell seated. The axe blade glinted towards his forehead.
Swish! Jeth's throat was slit open, his blood splattering Eiran's face, and he collapsed like a dropped stone. Eiran had seen it just before – a White Mask slipping a dagger across Jeth's neck before vanishing. And as he realized, the sounds of battle had ceased. The Isofean had been slaughtered.
“You fine?” A voice from the side made him turn. He almost leaped like stepping on a sea urchin when Sciast offered his hand. Eiran's hand trembled as he took it.
“We are heading back to the harbor,” Neuvane commanded. He had no choice but to follow.
At the harbor, the soldiers and sailors were busier loading goods onto the ships after Neuvane ordered to set sail within an hour. This chaos allowed him to blend in.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
While loading cargo, he pondered his options. First, he could slip away. But then Fhon, Violet, and his friends would never be avenged. Neuvane and Sciast would escape far away without facing any consequences.
The second option was to set sail with them. He might get a chance for revenge. Or perhaps get caught, his underarm vein sliced – enough to bleed for hours but stay alive – then hung by his legs as shark bait.
However, a sense of loss and disappointment filled him, unwilling to let those two escape. It was like someone was pushing a copper nail into his chest with a thumb, preventing him from turning away from this.
No. From the beginning, there was no choice because there was only one path. Punishing them was his responsibility.
The Terzionite suffered casualties, and they were in a hurry to sail at night. He had also killed the two sailors earlier, so no partner would recognize him. He planned to blend in by taking advantage of these facts.
A liquor crate awaited loading at one of the docks. He sat on it, broke a plank, and started drinking. A smack on the back of his head, which he had anticipated, followed soon after.
“Fool! You could be flogged for this. Where’s your ship?”
He put on his drunkest face and pointed to the embroidery on his uniform.
“You're with the Nidra, Captain Zuri’s ship. Over there. Move! And leave that bottle!”
Eiran staggered off, but he had no intention of meeting Captain Zuri. He waited until the last moments and then boarded a boat to the Ira Vith.
The deck of the Ira Vith was more chaotic than the harbor. The quartermaster shouted orders to arrange the rigging; boatswain's whistles pierced the air; carpenters' hammers made last-minute repairs; and signalmen opened and closed their lanterns.
He approached the first mate, a woman with greenish hair. “Report! Sailor Eiran missed his ship. Requesting permission to board.”
“Which is your ship, Sailor?”
“Yes, ma’am! The Nidra, Captain Zuri.”
The first mate scrutinized him. “Remove your helmet.”
Eiran took off his– SMACK! His cheek hot like it was slapped with an oar.
“Now it's too late to transfer. You and your partner will be punished. And don't think I can't smell the rum on your breath! Make yourself useful!”
Eiran joined the other deckhands and started working. The naval systems of Isofea and Terzion were not much different. He even managed to acquaint himself with some sailors.
***
Neuvane sat at his desk in the aft cabin, reviewing a stack of documents. Someone stood in the shadows at the corner of the room. He was not hiding, but the training ingrained in him from a young age would make most people overlook his presence.
“Submit your report,” Neuvane said, eyes still on his desk.
“Master, the Earth Core has been located within the recently secured Isofean fortress and has been dispatched to Emperor Gardioz. Our attempts to intercept it were unsuccessful.”
“That is unfortunate. Does the Isofean know the secret of the Cores?”
“No.” Incognito wore tight dark purple clothing. His natural white hair was easy to dye for undercover missions. His average build helped him blend in.
Neuvane signed the document, then leaned back in his chair, tapping his temple with his index finger. The search for the Cores was a three-way competition between himself, Emperor Gardioz, and the Inquisitor.
Years ago, the Emperor had ordered the search for the Cores without further elaboration, while the Inquisitor had long sought them as they were their once stolen sacred relics.
However, if both the Emperor and the Inquisitor desired them, then it is certain the Cores were more than just a relic, especially considering the resources they deployed. He was aware of what both parties were doing – openly and behind the scenes.
Two reasons existed for him wanting the Cores. First, he intended to exchange the Cores for crucial information related to the Empyreum project guarded by the Inquisitor. And second, he could use the Cores as bargaining tools if ever pressed by Gardioz.
He was not concerned with the secret behind it as his goal was only Empyreum. However, knowing that secret could give him a significant leverage in future negotiations. He might even pit Gardioz against the Inquisitor if necessary.
“Master, the Emperor has located the person he sought. With regret, we were delayed in obtaining this information.” Incognito's youthful age and soft facial features allowed him to disguise as a woman when needed.
“Provide clarification.”
“The target is present on this island, an unregistered monster hunter with previous engagements under the Inquisitor. The target goes by the name Lorn.”
Neuvane looked at Incognito. “The Emperor and the Inquisitor again. The likelihood of these events rules out coincidences. Keep eyes on that individual, and assess if he possesses any information regarding the Cores. Take any necessary actions to support the Empyreum project.”
“Understood, Master.” Incognito bowed. He exited through the aft window, so silent that a dropped pin loud by comparison.
