Chapter 125

No Truth To Beckon

Sylas slashed his blade horizontally, easily cutting through yet another Ghoul. Within just fifteen minutes that he had been back, he'd already killed over thirty Ghouls, saving nearly a dozen people in the process. Agnes followed behind, strictly when he cleared the area, though, as they made their way toward the castle's center.

Unfortunately, they didn’t encounter anyone who could talk--it was just Ghouls. Not even special Ghouls, just ordinary ones, ones that died in a single strike of his. It was boring and tiring, mowing them down. And yet, he had to check carefully as to not miss anything. If it was truly just the Ghouls, then it was pointless. He had no means of discovering who it was that effectively sicced the dead onto the castle.

Bit by bit, he began to pour his mounting anger into his strikes; they grew more violent, more archaic. There was no rhyme or reason to them, as though he had reverted to a beginner who simply swung the sword around, fueled by rage.

By the time he'd gotten to the castle's entrance, he'd killed over eighty, alleviating a lot of pressure from others and causing them to form small brigades to push back. Derrek and Valen waited at the entrance, both shocked and relieved when they saw him. Sylas cut down one last Ghoul that was nearby and sighed, walking over to the two.

“What happened?” he asked, glancing around. Though he helped, there were still many dead. Dead that the castle could not afford.

"I... I don't know," Derrek replied. "They just appeared, out of nowhere. Not from the north, though. They came... they came from the west."

“West?” Sylas asked, glancing toward the direction. “What the fuck is west?”

“Mountains,” Valen replied with a bitter smile. “And more mountains.”

“Any bandit camps?”

“No.”

“... well, there’s something,” he said. “When did they come?”

“A few hours ago. Where were you?” Derrek asked.

“Out and about,” Sylas replied as Agnes joined them. “Tsk. Uninterested in human matters my ass. That lying bitch. I swear, one day, I’ll rip her throat out and fuck it into ashes.”

“...” while Agnes blushed and looked away, Valen and Derrek looked at him quizzically.

“Notice anything strange about them?” Sylas asked.

“No,” Valen replied. “From the looks of it, just ordinary Ghouls. It’s not even a particularly strong invasion, but considering our circumstances...”

“West, huh?” Sylas said, taking a swing from the gourd hanging from his belt. “Looks like we ain’t restin’, Angy.”

“Never call me Agny again,” Agnes said. “Besides, Agnes isn’t even my name!”

“Well, you wouldn’t tell me your name. Can’t call you ‘hey you’ and ‘hey bitch’ anymore.”

“Haaah...”

“You’re heading out... again?” Valen asked, the tone of his voice strange. Sylas looked down at the young, wheelchair-bound lad. He’d realized that he hadn’t been spending a lot of time with them ever since Agnes and he started traversing outside the castle.

“I went back beyond north,” Sylas said.

“H-huh?!!!” both Derrek and Valen exclaimed in abhorrent shock.

“Met with a leader or something,” Sylas said. “Learned a couple of things. Apparently, it ain’t them that’s been sending the dead at us. I mean, yeah, it’s their dead, but they’re just loaning them out. Like mercenaries. If the dead came from the west, then we need to see what’s west. If it’s just mountains, oh well. But if it ain’t... some heads will hang. Don’t worry about anything,” Sylas added. “In time, everyone will pay their due. Let’s go,” he faced Agnes and hollered, immediately heading toward the castle’s exit.

Agnes glanced at Derrek and Valen and smiled faintly before jogging over and catching up to Sylas, matching his pace afterward. She'd occasionally glance at him, though her gaze was glued to the numerous corpses lying about, most mangled beyond recognition.

“Makes you wonder, huh?” Sylas said.

“Huh?”

“If they wanted us dead, why not just come? How much of a coward you gotta be to send the dead after us?”

“... yeah,” she mumbled. “If I’m being honest... sometimes I wish I never dreamed of you.”

“...”

“Call it my childish innocence and naivety,” she continued. “But I liked the world a whole lot better before I met you.”

“There’s nothing wrong with liking the world,” Sylas said.

“Huh? But you said--”

“I like the world as well,” he grinned. “What I say is within the context of who we are, Agnes. But, by and large, your average folk are malice-free. They merely wish to live their ordinary lives in ordinary ways, blissfully separate from whatever horseshit we’re involved with.”

“Do you really think there’s anything west of us?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I’m as blind as you are. But there is something somewhere, that much is certain. What worries me is that they knew when I departed north and, more importantly, seem aware that I’m strong enough to easily cull an army of Ghouls by myself.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” she asked. “You being a deterrent.”

"Honestly? I'd much rather they all come to our doorstep so I can at least fucking know who they are. This way, they're just hiding and I need to shoot blind time and again. There are so, so, so many bits and chunks and pieces of knowledge that are floating around that it's almost impossible to keep a track of everything. One of the things I hate the most is that I don't have a superpower to write down something in a book and take it through the loops, just so I can actually be sure of things."

“... like what?” she asked as they exited the castle’s grounds, making a turn left.

“When I first met that chick’s Emperor or whatever he was,” Sylas said. “I am almost absolutely certain he threatened that the dead will have their vengeance or something. It wasn’t dead, but he used some other name. Fuck me if I know which one, though, but that's beside the point. I'd actually completely forgotten about him, to be honest. It was one of the events that nearly made me shit my pants... and it's been so long that I'd forgotten."

“...”

“What’s more, it wasn’t some inconsequential thing, like what I ate for breakfast eighteen loops ago,” he continued. “It was the opening of the Well. The return of the dead or what have you. And... I’d forgotten. More and more, I feel myself slipping. Shit, can’t even trust my memories any longer. How many of them are just my brain’s desperate attempt to keep me sane?”

“I can’t imagine what it’s like,” she said. “But that’s really a big thing to forget.”

“It really is, right?” the two cracked a smile. “Man. I’m goin’ senile.”

“You were never much for the brain,” she said. “Your forte is brawn.”

“Holler,” he said. “You shoulda told that to whoever gave me this power.”

“... they gave it to you for a reason, Sylas,” she said sternly. “Of that, I am absolutely certain. No. Even if did happen to be you just by chance,” she added. “That chance was still fateful. It couldn’t have been anyone other than you.”

“Pretty sure it could have.”

“No,” she shook her head. “If it had been anyone else, I would have never come to them. And, as you know, I’m the key to figuring this whole thing out!”

“Oh, yeah, you’re the big key,” Sylas rolled his eyes. “God, I wish I had your confidence. Nothing brings you down. Right, I kind of rushed us out of there since I couldn’t stand Valen’s look, but do you need to rest?”

“So you did run away!” she exclaimed. “I held back because I didn’t want to hurt you... but you really ran away!”

“Of course I did,” Sylas scoffed. “I don’t need to stand there and take that self-fueled mental and emotional abuse when it’s gonna get reset anyway. I’ve figured out how to deal with my demons.”

“Sit down and process them in a healthy and meaningful way?”

“Ignore the living shit out of them.”

“Gah,” she gagged. “Sylas! Seriously! Do you even want to become better? And here I thought you were making progress!”

“... I am,” he glanced at her. “But demons are scary, man.”

“... haah,” she sighed, shaking her head. “Whatever. This is just who you are. There’s no need to change, I don’t think. I just wish... you were easier on yourself.”

"You're easy enough one me for the both of us," he laughed. By now, the two had already made some way from the castle, entering a brief segment of woods before it spilled into the frigid, frozen, sky-piercing ring of mountains. "And I thank you for that. Honestly, sometimes I don't think you're even real, just something I made up to make myself feel better."

“Nah, no way,” she shook her head. “There’s no way you had ever seen anyone as beautiful as me before, ergo, you would have never been able to conjure up someone as beautiful as me to follow you around.”

“...”

“...”

“Flawless logic.”

“I know.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“I refuse to recognize sarcasm.”

“Never knew that was an option.”

“Well, now you do.”

“Haah,” Sylas chuckled bitterly. “Never a boring day with you, huh? Oh well, so be it. O’ ye’ the most beautiful, can you make us some wine? I’m out.”

“Already?” she looked at him. “You have a problem.”

“Wrong. Problems.”

“Huh?”

“Not a problem,” he explained. “Many, many, many, many problems.”

“...”

“... wine?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No,” she refused. “Nothing until tomorrow.”

“I will die.”

“No you won’t, you big baby,” she criticized. “You might die if you keep chugging it down. Just leave everything to me. I’ll make a proper man out of you yet!”

“... haah. Whatever. This is what I get for stoking your ego.”