by Michael Sisa
His eyes reeking of curiosity, Jiablu began planting seeds to the ground one after another. Kirsten instructed him to place it a bit apart from each other, and he gladly complied.
“We’re probably the only one who planted them this way,” she giggled. “I’m so excited!”
After Jiablu had finished planting all the seeds they had, Kirsten proudly said, “Now, all’s left is to wait and see.”
Standing in total silence, the two of them waited. Seconds passed and turned into minutes, and the fruit of their labor immediately showed its results. After all, Acalpia and Cottonfeet were famous for their quick growth.
“Ooh!” exclaimed Jiablu. He gawked as small plants began sprouting from the ground.
Kirsten chuckled after seeing this. Somehow, she felt great pride within herself.
But, if the other person was not Jiablu, would she still feel the same? Probably not, she realized. She felt this sense of pride only because the other person was genuinely interested with her lectures. Her boring lectures. With that thought, she silently thanked this newcomer.
“Kukuku! So, this is what farming is like,” said Jiablu. “I feel that I am closer to my goal. Excellent. Indeed. Indeed.”
Goal? Kirsten somehow wanted to ask, but she realized that they hardly knew each other. She had decided to shut her lips instead. It would not be a wise decision to lose this bond they have right now.
“Two days from now, they’ll be good to harvest,” said Kirsten. “Isn’t it great? We’ll get to eat vegetables we’ve planted ourselves!”
Jiablu stared at her in shock. His eyes looked through her, as though what she had just said was preposterous. “What do you mean by harvest? We are going to kill these… these things we’ve painstakingly planted? Answer me, human!”
The reverberating voice in her head made Kirsten jump in fright. There was anger within that voice. There was no doubt about it.
“You know about it, right?” said Kirsten, her body trembling in panic. “We plant the seeds… and we reap the harvest. It’s a cycle.”
Jiablu furrowed his brows, as though he could not accept that logic.
What is going through his mind right now? Kirsten wondered. Does he hate me now? Maybe I should have told him about it beforehand? But… I thought he already knew. It’s common knowledge, after all.
Silence befell the two of them. Eventually, Kirsten decided to brave the worst. “You know… the purpose of those plants is for them to be eaten by us. Just like how each person has their own purpose in life. Those plants, too… they exist for that reason.”
Jiablu stared at her in total surprise. His eyes were wide, almost bulging out. She had never seen such a stupefied expression before. She would have called it a moment of enlightenment, if not for the repeatedly opening and closing of his mouth.
“R-Repeat that again, human?” said Jiablu.
There was an unexplainable eagerness within his voice.
Kirsten nodded in understanding. “Those plants are meant to be eaten. That’s their purpose. The reason they exist.”
Kirsten somehow knew that her words were stakes that pierced through Jiablu’s heart. The young man stood there in total silence as he stared at the plants that continued to grow even now.
Was this alright? She was young, Kirsten knew. And she held no absolute confidence in the words she had just said. But she did believe that her reasoning was correct. She panicked once again.
“Coming to this place is a wise decision,” said Jiablu. “Indeed. Indeed.”
He looked straight into Kirsten’s eyes. The hint of hatred in his eyes vanished, and what remained was a calm, soft gaze.
“This has been a good experience. An interesting one, Kirsten.”
She realized that it was the first time he called her by name.
Chapter 26: Blood Rain Graven
“W-Wait! Please! Ahhh!”
The sound of anguish reverberated as Graven decapitated his last prey. The stench of blood strongly filled the air as dozens of corpses littered the ground. He was getting bored of all these opponents lately. Weak, helpless creatures.
“As I thought, I need a bigger prey,” mumbled Graven.
He grabbed the large, lit lamp nearby and tossed it towards the wooden boxes that filled the warehouse. Glass shattered, oil splattered, and flames immediately licked and consumed everything. In just a few minutes, the entire area was filled with blazing flames.
Graven felt presences near the entrance. He bit his lips in anticipation of another prey.
The wooden door opened with a loud thud, revealing numerous men outside. They paused and stared at the blazing inferno, at the littered corpses, and at the masked figure standing at the center of it all.
With the bright flames illuminating everything, Graven clearly saw the face at their Head. A man, probably in his late twenties. Slim build. Tall height. If not for his fancy dress, something that greatly disgusted Graven, and his well-kept mustache, he would have resembled a walking twig.
“Oh, it’s just you,” said Graven, his disappointed face concealed by his mask. “Prince Ibrahim.”
Prince Ibrahim furrowed his brows. The soldiers behind him all held onto their unsheathed weapons, ready to attack at a moment’s notice. They all knew that the masked figure was part of the Prince’s men, but the amount of bloodlust emitted by that single individual made them choke in fear.
“Blood Rain, I clearly told you to be discreet—”
“—In what? Killing these insects?” said Graven. “Prince Ibrahim, make no mistake. I am working under you, but it does not mean I am beneath you. Know your place, sheltered royal.”
“You dare speak to the Prince like that?!” snarled the soldiers. They sheathed their swords, probably from the mockery, maybe from the unsuppressed bloodlust, or maybe both.
Prince Ibrahim gestured for his soldiers to stop. He heaved a sigh. “Blood Rain, I have received summons from the King. He wants to see the man that single-handedly destroyed the Red Stone Syndicate a week ago.”
Graven took off his mask, revealing a surprisingly youthful face. Those that saw it were stunned of how young he was. Judging by his appearance, they were sure that he had yet to reach the adult age. But what surprised them the most were the mismatched colors of his eyes. Green and Silver.
“Finally,” he said in a pleased tone. “It’s been so long already. That damn king surely took his time before summoning me, huh?”
Most of the soldiers were displeased by what they heard. Still, they kept their mouths shut.
The blazing flames in the warehouse intensified, and they erratically flickered back and forth, licking everything they touched.
“Soldier, go to the Magician’s Association and ask them to put out the fire,” said Prince Ibrahim to the man beside him.
“Yes, Prince Ibrahim!” said the soldier. And he immediately went away and disappeared from sight.
“These guys are Slave Traders, right?” said Prince Ibrahim. “I can’t always cover up for you, Blood Rain. Why did you have to kill them?”
Graven spat on the ground. “Kekeke! These guys are trash, anyway! What’s wrong with that?! I’ve been so bored lately… You need to find me a worthy opponent soon, Ibrahim!”
Prince Ibrahim’s head throbbed. “Blood Rain… Slavery is legal in our Kingdom. They are no criminals.”
“Eh?!” said Graven, his voice filled with disbelief. “B-But! They called me a monster, no? To think that they’ll judge me just because of my eyes. What’s wrong with my eyes, eh? Is there something wrong with them? Is there? Is there?”
Graven lifted his blade up to his face and licked the blood that clung to it. He made a satisfied smirk. “Prince, I am strong. The strongest in this world. And with that, I am entitled to everything. Laws are nothing but suggestions I can alter at my whim.”
The soldiers thought that he was a madman. They took a peek at the Prince who brought that monster to this city. According to what they heard, this mo
nster was once a slave bought from the far North. After seeing his potential, Prince Ibrahim bought him his freedom and had him trained in all fields imaginable. But who would have thought that that kid would grow to become this monster?
Prince Ibrahim sighed. He mumbled to himself, “I am somewhat responsible for all of these. I can’t just leave him alone… there’s no telling what he’ll do.”
Graven flicked his blade, and the blood that clung to it flew down the ground. After sheathing it to his scabbard, he cast one last glance at the blazing inferno.
“I am somewhat excited. What will your father give me as reward?” said Graven. “Maybe the finest woman in the Kingdom? A pile of gold? A priceless treasure? Kekeke! I can’t wait! I can’t wait!”
***
After leaving the burning warehouse, Graven, along with Prince Ibrahim and a handful of his soldiers, went towards the Royal Palace. They immediately headed towards the Throne Room.
“Ooh! This is my first time seeing such a large door!” said Graven, his eyes fixated on the metallic door in front of them. It was engraved with silver and gold, forming an insignia of a Rose and Shield. “As expected of the Royal Family! Just this slab of metal alone must be more than a year’s worth of my salary!”
Prince Ibrahim inwardly smiled at this. Sometimes, this kid was a bloodthirsty murderer, and sometimes, he was nothing but a curious teenager.
He’s unruly, there’s no doubt. But there’s still enough time to make a person out of him. After all, he’s still very young, the Prince thought.
He said to the soldiers guarding the entrance to the Throne Room, “Open the door. I shall speak with Father.”
The guards nodded, and they pushed the door open, creating a smooth flowing sound.
Graven’s eyes licked everything it could see: gigantic chandelier, portraits of previous kings, and a large statue of the God of Fire.
Sitting on the throne was a man, probably in his late fifties, his red hair with tinges of white. The King of Tesma — Marcus Auerus Tesma.
“Ibrahim,” said the King. “You’re just in time. I’ve just finished speaking with the Cardinal.”
In front of the throne was a translucent figure. It slowly turned around, revealing a familiar face.
“Cardinal Roschal!” breathed Ibrahim.
What is the Cardinal doing here? Judging by the ethereal figure, it’s without a doubt a high-ranked communication magic, thought the Prince.
“Oh, you’ve grown taller than the last time I’ve seen you,” said the Cardinal. For some reason, Ibrahim knew that the old man’s smile was forced. “If possible, I would like to speak with you more, but the time limit for my magic has come.”
“Don’t worry, Roschal. I’ll relay the news to my son,” said the King.
“Of course,” the Cardinal softly replied, his translucent figure starting to fade away. “King Marcus... think about what I’ve told you. You are a kind king. I know you’ll eventually arrive to the best conclusion. For this country. For the people of the kingdom.”
With those parting words, the Cardinal’s translucent figure completely dissipated.
“Hey, Prince... who’s that old man?” whispered Graven.
“The Cardinal of the Order,” Ibrahim simply replied. He was still flustered by the fact that a dying magician like the Cardinal would use such a complex spell. It would do nothing but adversely affect his health, the prince knew.
He said to the king, “Father, as you’ve ordered, I have brought Blood Rain with me.”
The tired eyes of the king glimmered for an instance. He leaned forward from his throne. “That young man beside you is the famous Blood Rain? He’s far younger than what I’ve expected!”
Hearing the pleased voice of his father, the Prince enthusiastically nodded. “That’s right, Father. He’s the same person that single-handedly annihilated the Red Stone Syndicate.”
“Ooh! Splendid! Good job bringing him here, Ibrahim!” said the King.
“Thank you for your kind words, Father,” said Ibrahim. “I would have brought Commander Ourogas here, but he’s currently on an expedition to a city nearby.”
“Yes. I was the one that ordered the Third Division’s Commander to go there,” the King nodded in understanding. He gestured for a guard on his left to bring out a certain item. “Blood Rain, sorry for calling you out here on such a short notice.” He cleared his throat. “For your valor, the Kingdom shall reward you. Accept this humble reward.”
The guard approached the young man and handed him a small silver box.
Blood Rain wiped the drool on his lips, and immediately opened the item. For a moment, he paused and frowned.
“What’s this... thing?” said Graven.
Inside the box was a bracelet, probably made from wood, judging by its appearance. If Blood Rain had not known that it was a reward from the King, he would have immediately judged it as a trash item.
King Marcus combed his short beard. “Hmmm... you’re not capable of seeing the magical potential of that bracelet, huh?”
Graven’s smile completely slid down his face. This king dared mock him? If he willed it, he could easily annihilate everyone here. He doubted that there was anyone stronger than him in the kingdom.
“What is it, old man?” Graven said in irritation. “Just tell me.”
“Blood Rain! You don’t speak to the King like th—” said Ibrahim.
“—It’s fine, my son,” said the king. He said to Graven, “That is an ancient artifact created by the Dark Elves. Created using a branch from the Tree of Life.”
Blood Rain’s eyes resumed its vigor. A small drool dripped down his mouth. If this bracelet was indeed made from a branch of the Tree of Life, then it would surely be an extraordinary item.
“The effect of that item is equivalent to the Highest Grade healing concoction. An artifact capable of healing fatal injuries. If the owner wills it, it could even go as far as regenerate a lost limb or two, by consuming the Life Force of the bracelet itself,” said King Marcus. “It’s one of the treasured items of the kingdom. Use it well.”
Graven grinned smugly after hearing the king’s explanation. He immediately put the bracelet on, and indeed, a surprising power enveloped him. He could feel the Life Force of the Holy Tree.
“Kekeke! You have good taste, King,” said Graven. “This is a nice bracelet you’ve given me.”
“I’m glad you liked it, Blood Rain,” said King Marcus. “The Red Stone Syndicate has been at our throats for many decades. As the person responsible for that group’s destruction, I cannot bring myself to give you anything lesser than that.”
“Of course,” grinned Graven. He raised the hand that wore the bracelet, bringing it closer to his face. “Kekeke! Good! Good!”
Prince Ibrahim was somewhat surprised that his father gave away such priceless artifact, but he did not voice his thoughts out loud. This was probably for the better.
“Ah, Father?” said Ibrahim. “About the Cardinal... What did he tell you? Going as far as using a complex magic at his current state...”
There was a long silence. Only the sound of Graven admiring his newly acquired bracelet was heard.
King Marcus closed his eyes. He sighed and said, “Ibrahim... Commander Lancelot is dead.”
Prince Ibrahim’s mouth opened then closed on its own. He shouted, “W-What?! Are you sure about this, Father?! H-How could Lancelot die?! There must have been something wrong wi—”
“The Cardinal has no reason to lie. Moreover, it seems that he was killed by Alecto,” said King Marcus, his voice choking the last name out.
Prince’s Ibrahim fell down the ground. Graven saw this and raised his brows. “Prince, why are you sitting on the floor? That’s dirty, you know?”
“Commander Lancelot is dead... it can’t be,” mumbled Ibrahim. He still could not believe the revelation. He tried to process the news with all his might. “Maybe... it’s my fault. After all, I was the one who recommended the First Divi
sion...”
Self-blame was clear on the Prince’s face as he contemplated on the things that transpired.
“Kekeke! That Commander is dead, eh? As I thought, he’s not worth much,” said Graven. “Don’t dwell too much on a dead man, Prince. Weak people amount to only that. Don’t waste your time.”
Prince Ibrahim glared at Graven, but the young man merely grinned back. The Prince slowly stood back up.
“That’s enough,” said King Marcus in resignation. “My Son, have you heard of the Goblin King?”
“The Goblin King!” the one who replied was Graven. “Of course, we’ve heard of it! Right, Prince?”
Ibrahim furrowed his brows at Graven’s remark. “Yes, Father. That is a creature written in history books. Of course, I know. Why did you ask?”
Once again, King Marcus’ head throbbed. “Listen. It seems that the Goblin King appeared near Gralvan Plains and attacked the Rube Fortress… Along with a hundred thousand strong army of Goblins.”
Graven squeaked in delight upon hearing this. He repeatedly mumbled, “The Goblin King! The Goblin King! I want to see! I want to kill it! An excellent prey! A delicious prey!”
“Is... Is that true, Father?” said Ibrahim. The King understandingly nodded. “T-Then... the Rube Fortress?”
“Is fine, thankfully,” said King Marcus. “It seems that a soldier from the fort went out and single-handedly killed the invading horde numbering a hundred thousand, eventually killing the Goblin King in the process.”
“What?!” said the Prince and Graven in unison. It was a preposterous statement, but coming from the king himself, there was no reason to doubt it.
“Then the Goblin King is dead? Who is that soldier?! I want to see him! I want to fight him!” said Graven. If not for the prince stopping him, he would have approached the king and shook his body.
“Calm down, Blood Rain. You’re too excited,” said the Prince.
“But, Ibrahim! How could I not get excited after finding out about such a delicious prey?!” said Graven. He licked his lips in quick successions. “Hey, who do you think is stronger? That soldier or me? Eh? Tell me?”
