Chapter 74

The Life to Take (III)

“What is there to the methodology of corruption besides greed? I cannot fathom more.”

Mind of the Heretic, Vol. III

The atmosphere had clearly tensed up, so much so that even those least aware were able to notice it. Every mild sound would have people drawing their swords out, ready for a fight. Even the veterans found themselves jittery, their hawk-like eyes repeatedly looking left and right, waiting for any potential assailants.

Meanwhile, Noah was having a quiet moment inside the new carriage, a different one from Olivia’s this time around. Only Lo’kret and Ludwig accompanied him, the former too engrossed in writing the song, while the latter hardly seemed the type to invite a conversation with someone he deemed unworthy. Sash and Myrell were walking on the carriage's side, having chosen that the awkwardness was too much for them.

Noah didn’t mind, all things considered. He quietly sipped soft wine, would occasionally pick up a book to read and learn, and even take frequent naps. All the while, however, he trained his Dark, namely in the art of discovery. He’d learned that it is possible to manipulate it into his eyes, ears, and even nose, amplifying everything he saw, heard, and smelled. As far as this test went, he could see in detail for nearly six hundred feet of flat ground, and his other senses also danced around that distance, which was eerily remarkable.

He kept a permanent watch on Olivia’s carriage as well as the surrounding area, ready to flip out at a moment’s notice. Though he trusted Asandra well-enough to simply stay back and enjoy the show, it was also a part of his own training, needing to get accustomed to the Dark better and faster. He knew that, at some point, against someone or something, his schemes and plotting would become obsolete, inadequate. At some point, he’d have to bare his own fangs, which would be quite sad if he had no fangs to bare.

“… hm?” he mumbled to himself as he heard something off, around four hundred feet to his right, deep into the wounding canyon of sorts. Pillars of earth rose erect, intertwining as they formed a mid-air labyrinth that acted as a sort of a wall, standing opposite of Sumnner river. It wasn’t a canyon precisely, at least nothing like the one waiting a bit further down the road, but it did provide perhaps a few points of advantage. Glancing at Lo’kret and Ludwig, both of which appeared to pay zero attention to him, he decided to check it out.

He cloaked himself in the Dark as tightly as he could before heaving out through a large, framed window, landing squarely on his feet on the outside. Without wasting any time, and using the ruckus of the kicked-up dust and the late evening's dying light, he bolted around the carriage and headed toward the brown-shelled wall that was almost sixty feet tall by his estimates. His eyes quickly found several points from which he could begin his climb, and he didn't hesitate, grabbing onto one of them and heaving himself up.

He saw an opening that led into the ‘wall’, barely man-sized, and skittled over, scurrying himself through and into it. It was quite dark, but his eyes easily adapted and he was able to see as though it was as clear as the day itself. The tunnels appeared bored out artificially, most-likely by some or another animal at some point, and he followed them, tracing toward the source of the sound. It was faint and brief, but he had no problem pinpointing exactly where it came from.

As for the spot, it was a slightly elongated part of the tunnel that branched off into four further sections. He still had to crawl, but now there was enough room to lift his head up slightly and look around. There were certainly traces of someone having been here, namely the kicked-up dust and dirt, scattered about. Judging by the splatter, he easily identified which of the paths the person took and followed right after, reaching into his robes and taking out the knife from his breast pocket, gripping it tightly in his hand and coating it in the Dark, hiding it.

The further along the tunnel he moved, the weirder of a sensation grew inside his chest; Light, he realized. The person on the other end of this tunnel had the Light. He tightened on his usage of the Dark, wrapping himself further and slowing down, ensuring he made as little sound as possible.

After about eighty feet, the tunnel sprung into a high-ceiled cave of sorts, lit up by the spectacular gems protruding from the dry walls. It appeared to be around two hundred feet across, drawing a confused gaze from him as he was entirely unaware of its existence. He slowly got up to his feet and looked around, immediately spotting a figure that was crouching on the other side of the ‘cave’, looking through what appeared to be a hole. They were decked in black, from top to bottom, all of their features hidden behind the mask.

Snickering inwardly, Noah did the same, pulling a dark hood over his face and flipping his robe inside out and tying it with ropes around his waist, making it look more like a cloak rather than a robe. He walked up until he was around twenty feet and momentarily uncloaked himself, removing the Dark’s hold.

That moment was more than enough for the figure to notice him as they jumped to their feet, in alarm, and faced him with an incredulous look in their twilight-colored eyes. A woman? Noah mused further, continuing to stare at her without making a move. She withdrew a sword, a remarkably strange sword, from seemingly nowhere, as though she traced it into the existence itself by her fingers. Though the handle and the guard appeared normal, the blade looked to be entirely made out of Light, glowing like a lightbulb, shining.

They continued staring at one another, in deep silence, with completely different looks in their eyes; the woman maintained her wary, shocked, and alarmed look, while Noah sported a calm, bemused one, using the Dark to cloak the knife in his hand and make it appear as though he was merely keeping his hands crossed over his chest.

“… if not for you,” in the end, almost a whole minute later, he decided to break the silence as he found it quite boring. “I would have never learned this place existed. Interesting, I say. Really interesting.”

“… who are you?” the woman asked in a melodic, yet wary tone.

“I ought to be asking you that,” Noah said with a snicker. “I am not the one secretly following the Princess of the Kingdom, hiding in the shadows and spying.”

“… are you her Guardian?” the woman asked, seeming to relax slightly.

“No.” Noah’s reply caused her to stiffen up once again. However, Noah noticed something strange – her movements… seemed… too perfect. He found them to be off, unnatural, in conflict with how people usually behaved with the mindset that she was supposedly sporting. “I’d really appreciate it if you could come with me. I’m sure you have a perfect explanation for this.”

“…” Again? Noah frowned. She’s dangerous, he concluded as he also put his guard up further, investigating every single one of her moments and preparing. “I’ll leave. I’ve seen what I wanted to see.”

“And I haven’t learned what I wanted to learn.” Noah replied with a cold voice.

“Some other day, perhaps?”

“…” Noah remained silent, his eyes like hawk’s, watching, inspecting, waiting. There! He saw the calves of her legs temporarily tense as he suddenly shifted to the side and spiked his dagger-free arm up into a curled position.

Right then, the sword of light bored through the opening in-between his forearm and his shoulder, alongside the woman’s arm. So fast! He barely managed to trace her movements through the use of the Dark, though had no time to think any further on it as he clasped his arm, trapping hers by the wrist and kicking out with his right leg.

The woman met his kick with her right leg, lifting it up and blocking it as she pulled her hand out, dropping the sword that dissipated into ash… right before it appeared back in her now-freed hand again. Tsk… clicking his tongue inwardly, Noah heaved up slightly and spun around, lifting his left leg into a roundhouse kick, feeling it whiff as the woman ducked and sprung forward, aiming the blade at his crotch. This bitch…

He shuffled to the side slightly and bent forward as the tip of the blade's Light scorched the back of his robe. Without stopping, while she was still in the thrusting motion, he snapped right into her holding arm and grabbed her by the shoulder, pulling forward and causing her to lose her footing as he vaulted her over his own back and threw her against the floor, face-down, quickly pinning her with a knee to the back of her spine. Just as he thought he'd had her beat, a burst of energy propelled her up and forced him off of her, forcing him to do a backward roll as to not fall onto his back, quickly jumping onto his feet and ducking sideways, evading another thrust of the blade.

Realizing that just utilizing the normal skills wouldn’t do it, he shuffled to her side once again, looking to repeat his previous move and, as he expected, she almost looked to be begging him to do it. However, instead of grabbing her shoulder, he finally thrust the dagger coated in the Dark, aiming at her armpit as it masked the motion since he looked like he was about to grab her.

The pain seemed to have registered immediately as she cried out, jumping back in a swift motion, her body turning into an actual blur. She opened up roughly twenty feet of distance as she lifted her wounded arm and looked at the trickling blood and a rather big hole both in her clothes and in her flesh, before looking back at him, looking for the weapon yet finding none.

"You move well," Noah said, cracking his bones. It has been a long time since he could work his muscles and bones like this, instead of the rigid training sessions. Against the real opponent, one aiming for your life, a body finds ways in which to move that seem almost inhumane. "Springy, precise, but impatient. Judging by the lack of experience, I'd guess you are quite young and most-certainly not a random assassin or a guard. If I were to venture a guess, and, remember, this is just a guess – you’re likely one of the high-born Ladies of the Kingdom. Whichever house you may belong to… is truly blessed, with its future secured.”

“… I don’t suppose you will afford me the same courtesy.” She said, taking quick breaths in succession as to alleviate some of the pain.

“You might have heard the name,” Noah decided he may as well add more notoriety to his alter-ego. “Skyler.”

“… you… are Skyler?” she looked at him, uncertain.

"Why?" he grinned. "Would a dagger into your eye instead of your armpit convince you more? Forgive me, but I really do not take pleasure in taking lives, especially the ones so young."

“… how are you connected to Princess Olivia’s new Dacent, Noah?” Hm? It was Noah’s time to be confused, as it appeared she wasn’t spying on the Princess… but on him. Godwind’s daughter? Wasn't she described as meek, withdrawn, and weak-willed kid? Fuck, I really, really, really need to stop trusting those records…

“Ah, Fyrost child,” he chuckled, deciding it was better to throw a bone and make his life as Noah a bit easier. “He did inform me he’d made some sort of a deal with you. However, I don’t believe that deal included you following him around.”

“… you are connected, then?” she asked again, not appearing disturbed in the slightest that he’d figured out her identity. To be fair, he mused, she most-likely purposefully let him know it… that was as long as he did have some connections with ‘Noah’.

“I’d thought that letter was sufficient, for now.”

“You wrote it?”

“No,” Noah shook his head, shrugging. “You are peaking too deep, young one. Go back home, and tell your father that the mission will be completed. And that the next time I find someone following us, his house might be the next. Leave, now,” he added. “And have someone look at that armpit. You don’t want it infected, do you?”

Lymena, warily, took out a Weaver, a talisman-like artefact, and injected it with Light. A moment later, her figure flashed in the brilliant haze before vanishing; she tumbled and tasseled temporarily through the membrane of space, ejected a short while later onto a grassy patch, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. She immediately heaved onto her knees and let go of her innards, alleviating the pressure on her stomach and lungs, breathing deeply. I almost died, she thought, cold sweat sweeping over her. Though their exchange was brief, she found herself completely outmatched. Even with a surprise attack, and using every ounce of strength on her speed, the man easily matched and even surpassed her.

Was it not for Nymor, the House’s Sacred Blade and its main Artefact lent to her by her Father, she would have died before even getting the chance to talk with the man. Skyler, she thought, etching the name deep into her frame of mind. She had also realized that her Father had made the correct choice to silently accept the proposal, instead of striking back. Arrogance, especially of figures operating in the dark, is often founded on power and strength – just like the Bloodsworn, whose members had egos unmatched. If a single man can threaten to bring down the entire House down, one just like him, she was inclined to believe. And to warn her family that the Dacent… was off-limits. Permanently.