BLOOD COUNT

The news had swept through the entirety of Alloy like a storm, causing hearts and minds of people to stir. Two sides focused on two parts; common people of Kingdoms wept and agonized over the deaths of countless youths, while the Leaders of Lords of Zen gathered up in great numbers to discuss the disastrous outcome. Their plan was to massacre everyone, as to not allow the news to leak, but all their plans fell apart. Not only did nearly every single soul on Alloy know what happened, they had lost nearly ten thousand people during the inferno.

Lady Fen’er and Master Jin were sitting atop a stone chair, isolated from the world. Ten or so meters in front of them were thirteen chairs, seated by Thirteen Lords of Zen. The room was roofless, but no sound from the outside came in; it was protected by a magic array while also allowing one to witness the starlit, dark sky. Both Lady Fen’er and Master Jin had complex expressions; this mission was executed by them, so it was only natural for them to bear the brunt of scolding, as they would have also bore the brunt of rewards if it was successful.

“No one saw who it was?” all thirteen seats were cloaked in shadows, and it was impossible to detect where the voice came from – or rather, even voices were all the same, which ensured that no one of the younger generation would ever learn the true identities of the thirteen leaders.

“No.” Lady Fen’er bit her lower lip as she spoke, lowering her head slightly. “By the time I looked, whoever it was was already enveloped in Phoenix flames.”

“Impossible!!” the shout caused the room to shake lightly. “From your description, you are asking us to believe a single person – of younger generation at that – cast two Divine Arts, one after another?! Do you take us for fools?!”

“It’s the truth, Lords,” Master Jin interjected. “I can attest to it as well.”

“You can shut your trap!” the voice replied. “We have planned this for centuries, yet you dare speak up after this failure? Do you know that you delayed our Young Lord’s awakening by a full year’s time?! It’s a year we cannot afford!”

“I…” truly, there was nothing either of the two could say. How could they have possibly predicted that outcome? They came there fully believing in success, only to be slapped backwards like flies.

“You two can leave.” a voice added after a short silence.

Lady Fen’er and Master Jin reluctantly got up, leaving the roofless room, their expressions extremely pained. In the end, they still felt wronged; they had the entire thing under the control, but it all fell apart. They knew the consequences this will cause. If for no other death, but for Lady Anna’s death. Lady Fen’er especially knew the temperament of her parents, and her entire family at that; the only reason they joined their cause was because they were left alone. Now that one of their own had died, who knows what sort of trouble will they cause?

The plan was for the news to never leak, and for everyone believe there was something wrong with the Ancient City, causing everyone’s deaths. Yet, the matter had spiraled vastly out of their control, beyond the point of salvation.

Thirteen Lords still remained shrouded as they pondered briefly in silence. While Lady Fen’er had surface understanding of the ongoing troubles, they were, after all, at the heart of everything, so their understanding was much, much deeper.

“This will not end well.” someone spoke.

“Can’t we silence them?”

“Not anymore,” someone said. “If it was reported earlier, we may have stood a chance, but not anymore. Now, that lass Yunchi has all she needs to cause us endless headaches.”

“Will we really be forced into releasing that bastard?”

“No need, at least for now,” someone added. “Those above still have relative control of the situation. Yunchi and her brass can’t put too much pressure on us yet. Right, are we certain that no Hyordians outside of that bastard survived?”

“There weren’t many to begin with,” someone replied. “We have confirmation for everyone save for the bastard’s son.”

“He most likely died during the Fall,” someone added with a sigh. “Ai, ai… why did the hatred from above enter our own circles? We only wanted to live in peace…”

“Should we alert Lord Uttor and others about the Divine Arts?”

“Not yet,” someone said. “They are currently dealing with the situation in the North. It’s best if we let them do their job. I’ll go and visit Slythar and make new arrangements. The bastard really moved his entire city across the continent. His paranoia is unmatched…”

“Ah…”

“Indeed…”

**

While the world was drowned in the sea of agony, Lynne was battling a high fever. He was lying down in fetal position, his hands strapped across his chest as his entire body was shaking. Although Elynal tried a few times to come over and help, the bird shooed him away each time, as it kept pouring its Mana into Lynne’s body. Elynal figured there was a reason for it and he didn’t probe any further than that.

Lynne was drawn back to the scene of inferno, repeating it relentlessly in his mind. Every scream echoed deeply against his soul, and every cry was etched deep into his bones. More than half the reason for such a massive backlash was definitely over-exertion, but a good brunt of it was also because of what Lynne did.

With his tongue, he could excuse many things, and he could cause many downfalls. However, in the end, those were all minor issues. However sharp his tongue was or quick his wit is, his very being couldn’t move past what he had done. No matter how many times he repeated seemingly proper excuses – such as saving his own life – it was pointless in the end. He faced the front of the dying crowd, and he watched as eternal flames burned their bodies to ashes. Lynne knew there were neither sinners nor saints in the world, neither good nor evil; it was a mantle one took upon themselves, but Lynne always felt he could never withstand the weight of the mantle. And, in the end, he was right.

His actions were neither good nor evil, neither proper nor false, yet, they sparked lake of guilt to drown him from within. And, within that guilt, spawned another layer of guilt; guilt that he murdered thousands… guilt that he felt guilt for murdering thousands to avenge and rescue tens of thousands… it was a vicious loop. Even if he was someone who bathed in guilt since childhood, this time it was different. All those he killed were strangers; he didn’t know their names, their voices, or even their faces. All he knew was that they wore black and were there to kill him. Yet, even with that knowledge, he couldn’t move past it.

His mind was warring; neither side could let go, leaving guilt to be anchored. In the end, with the passage of time he could not measure, his eyes slowly opened. At first, it was all a blur; he felt his throat was as dry as desert, and he felt weakness throughout his entire body. He could barely move a finger, and could at most produce a strange sound.

Things finally got into focus after a few more moments; he spotted Elynal across from him, leaning against the wall of the cave in a half-seated position, asleep. He suddenly felt a current of comfortable chill invade his body. Wherever it passed, the weakness would subside, and pain would go away for some time.

“W-w-wat-er…” he managed to mutter out, coughing up; liquid hued in deep black flew out as he coughed. To call it liquid, though, would be a stretch, as it was more akin to jelly.

“Open up.” he heard a voice in his mind. He parted his lips slightly after which a cold burst of water sank through his dry throat, revitalizing it anew. After he drank a few mouthfuls, he was forced to cough up again; this time it was ordinary, liquid blood, dyed deep crimson, making his breathing more comfortable. “Rotten brat, you really are magnificently stupid,” he recognized the bird’s voice immediately; good… you’re alive… you’re alive…

“Did you really need to play the role of a hero?” the bird scolded on. “So many brave youths, and a bitchy coward like you wants to take the frontal stage? Hah! You’re fifty years too early brat! If I had a mirror for you to look at, I wonder if you’d ask to see your grandchildren before you die! Hah!”

“W-what?” Lynne’s mind was still not fully functional, and he could barely process a few words at most.

“Ai, ai… what has become of my Master? I’m ashamed! So ashamed! The monkey should be back in a day or two, so just rest until then,” the bird’s voice then grew rather serious. “Your entire body is a complete mess. Your veins are enraptured, more than half your bones are broken, you basically don’t have muscle mass, and even your Soul Force is wounded. You only have a few ‘drops’ of Mana supporting your from your soul, and it is impossible for it to circulate throughout your body. I’m forcing my Mana to travel within a layer just beneath your skin, but I don’t dare force it directly into your body.”

“T-that bad?” Lynne mumbled, sighing inwardly; he expected he’d be in quite a state, but from the sound of it, it was far worse than what he anticipated.

“Bad? You call this bad? Rotten brat, this is a disaster! What the hell were you doing? If you choose to use Infinity, run!! Don’t start wantonly casting freaking Divine Arts! Ai, ai… a fool’s breath is a fool’s death indeed.”

“An-na?” the bird shook for a moment as it cast a saddened gaze at Lynne.

“… sigh, Elynal managed to take her away.”

“G-good. He?”

“He’s fine,” the bird explained. “Just exhausted.

“Ho-w m-many?” Lynne suddenly asked.

“Hm?” the bird looked at him, confused.

“Kil-lled?”

“Go to sleep,” the bird said instead; naturally, it had quite a good grasp on its Master’s personality and character. Hei, you’re already dying like a dead dog, what the hell are you asking for more daggers in your lungs? “I’ll wake you up when the monkey returns.”

“N-no!! K-ki--”

“Why do you want to know?” the bird asked, sighing. “What would it change? Whether you killed one or ten thousand, it’s all the same. If you’re going to blame yourself anyway, why ask? You decided to uptake the Origin Laws and study towards the truth of Magic, yet you’re afraid of dead and dying? However much you dread the dagger in your hands, you still need to stab it forward. Thanks to you, however terrible it sounds, the deaths of all those people had saved nearly equivalent number. Was it a proper method? No… but, alas, it is not a proper world.”

“Do you know why I choose not to kill?” Lynne’s mind was finally clear enough for him to speak through it with the bird.

“Hm?”

“When I was six, my dad told me a secret,” Lynne suddenly sighed as he spoke. “Ah, rather than secret, it’s mainly related to my origins. According to him, my mom… was Blood Countess.”

“What?!!” the bird exclaimed in shock, as it even shirked outwardly, causing Elynal to wake up.

“I inherited her bloodline,” Lynne continued. “And have sworn a vow to never kill. That’s one of the reasons I refused to practice Magic until a year ago. I also grew up alongside the ‘common’ people. I’ve seen what living and dying means to them. Every breath is important… every word has a meaning. I can’t look at people and see stepping stones… and I don’t even dare. If my bloodline awakes…”

“F*ck!!” the bird exclaimed.

Although Elynal noticed bird’s strange behavior, he didn’t say anything as he never imagine Lynne would wake up, so he quickly went back to sleep.

On the other side, the bird was still shaking from the shock, staring at Lynne in disbelief. S-surely Blood Count doesn’t have the same meaning here as it does on Divine Continent, r-right? If so… this is much, much bigger than I imagined…