“Go to bed,” Serra hissed, and the previously confident young lady disappeared in an instant.
While his sweetheart wasn’t looking at him, Nero looked at the departing stranger with sadness in his eyes. He might’ve chosen this exact moment to regret his monogamy.
“A lot of people have already seen us,” Hadjar said, his true meaning remaining unspoken for now.
The others nodded, and so they turned off the main street into a narrow alley. Leaving the people who were walking around, drinking and singing, behind, they glided through the darkness like the assassins they had all too recently dealt with. However, their destination wasn’t the military camp. It was the castle.
Therefore, after being seen by many people at the festival, they slipped through the dark archway. Pulling out the items they’d need from a small crevice in the stonework, the three friends rapidly changed their clothes. They didn’t have time to observe the rules of decency, so Hadjar was able to see all the treasures that Nero got to enjoy at night. Serra’s beauty certainly drew his attention.
“Hey!” his friend protested, noticing that Hadjar was running his eyes over the caster’s figure.
“Sorry.” Hadjar smiled as he tried his hardest not to chuckle.
“Men.” Serra snorted.
The three friends wrapped themselves in black robes, leaving only narrow slits for their eyes, climbed onto the roof, leaving behind the lights of the fireworks and paper lanterns, and silently left the city. There were no guards on the walls—the residents felt safe under the jurisdiction of the Moon General; the city was in safe hands.
Climbing the wall, they swung over it and dropped down on the other side. Almost fifty feet of space had separated them from the ground. A common person would’ve shattered their bones while attempting such a landing, but since they were practitioners at the Formation Stage, they didn’t even leave a trace, moving with incredible ease and fluidity as they continued on their way.
Soon, they were running as if they were racing the shadows. The stars and moon provided a bit of light, which was enough for them to see in the dark. After running across a few streams and through a couple of ravines, they approached the foot of a hill. The castle, built of yellow stone, and looking like a bloodthirsty monster, was baring its teeth at the night. The building reflected Larvie’s nature well. The trio couldn’t imagine a more suitable home for the General.
“Do you remember the plan?” Serra whispered.
Nero and Hadjar both nodded. They had experience with similar forays and had gotten used to not talking during their missions. This habit had always made Serra a bit nervous, but this time, she was silent.
Hunting, the girl signaled.
The men smiled, and the trio split up. Serra went to the bridge, which was the most convenient point from which to ‘break’ the protective enchantments of Larvie’s castle, in her opinion. Hadjar and Nero, meanwhile, were ready to climb the wall.
They paused at the foot of the hill, raised their heads, and gazed intently at the ghostly hieroglyphs that fluttered about in the gloom of the evening. They would only have fifteen minutes to get into the castle and kill the General. That, or they could turn around and flee if he’d really reached the level of a true cultivator and become a Heaven Soldier.
In any case, they couldn’t hope for a stroke of good fortune. Who knows what the General could send after Hadjar next time or what other cruelties his dark soul would come up with. Hadjar planned to take the reins of fate into his own hands and end the conflict before he was killed.
They stood at the foot of the hill, looking up into the sky and waiting for the hieroglyphs of the protective enchantment to blink. This would be their signal to start counting down their 15 minutes. Finally, the ghostly symbols faded, and a second later, as if nothing had happened, they once more enveloped the castle.
Two silhouettes could now be seen, swiftly climbing the steep castle wall.
The slope, though seemingly impregnable, didn’t pose much of a challenge to the two strong practitioners. Without spending even a tenth of their allotted time, Hadjar and Nero clambered up the fortress wall. While clinging to the smallest gaps and stopping at the slightest noises, each of them recalled that ill-fated night on the Blue Wind ridge.
Hadjar often saw the giant, fiery sword of the Spirit Knight in his dreams. The moment when the Knight had almost ended their lives by simply touching the handle of his blade. Hadjar had been powerless in front of such might.
What would’ve happened if the Spirit Knight had actually drawn his sword? Would there have been anything left of them and that mountain peak?
Don’t break the skin, Nero ordered, snapping Hadjar out of his recollection. Hunt carefully. Don’t take live prey.
They had gotten accustomed to expressing their not always humane thoughts with the help of hunter sign language long ago. What Nero was actually suggesting was that they should kill the guards without making any noise.
After getting past the stone ledge that enclosed the top of the wall, they reached the parapet, and Hadjar involuntarily remembered the battle at the Fort. Trying to get rid of these unnecessary thoughts, he slipped across the stone and slowly moved behind one of the watchmen who currently had his back to them.
Gently drawing his blade, Hadjar thrust the sword between the watchman’s cervical vertebrae in one precise, fluid movement. The soldier didn’t even manage to flinch or let out so much as a squeak. He remained standing on the wall, his nerves severed, drowning in the blood that quickly filled his armor.
Nero did the same. They’d been practicing that attack for the last few days. It hadn’t even been hard for the Scholar and Serra to build a believable wooden dummy for them to practice on.
Go to the den. Look around, Hadjar showed with his fingers, and Nero nodded to signal he understood.
They went through the passage to the armory tower and headed toward the central building of the huge castle that was seemingly trying to surpass the Royal Palace through sheer size alone. Apparently, the General’s ambitions had no limits.
Nero, who was in front, killed two guards with two quick strikes. He had silently wrapped the hinges in wet rags just in case, and now he was opening the small door in the castle gate. After going inside and looking around, he quickly waved for Hadjar to follow him through.
There are no predators here, Nero signed.
Hadjar followed after him, looking at the dead soldiers as he passed by them. They’d chosen the wrong ‘boss’, and gotten unlucky with their guard shift. It was common for this cruel world to end someone’s life. Neither Nero nor Hadjar were feeling any remorse. This could happen to anyone—even them.
Hadjar sheathed his dagger, drew his sword, and entered the castle. They still had work to do.
Chapter 80
The interior of the castle was no less opulent than its outward appearance suggested. Fleece carpets covered the floors, imported from the farthest corners of the Sea of Sand, where they had been sewn by the best weavers that money could buy. The feet of the would-be assassins, wrapped in black rags, were drowning in the plush carpeting as they walked the castle’s hallways.
Tapestries hung on the walls. They’d been manufactured with such great attention to detail that it was even possible to distinguish every single helmet the thousands of warriors attacking the ancient city wore among the threads.
Bronze statues adorned most of the niches. Sometimes, Hadjar and Nero would freeze momentarily and grip their weapons because these statues often looked far too realistic for their liking.
Sometimes, they saw real paintings, but they were very few and far between because paintings cost a small fortune in this world. There were only a few master painters, so even the rich nobles could seldom afford such a luxury on their walls.
The pair moved silently toward the General’s bedroom. Fortunately, they had managed to get hold of a plan of the castle in advance, reducing the time they would’ve spent aimlessly wandering the hallways. They’d got
ten one of the servants drunk, and he had explained everything to them in great detail. Hadjar’s neuronet had then created a detailed map based on the data they’d received from the unfortunate soul.
Nero suddenly raised his fist.
Hadjar froze and pressed himself against the wall, preparing to fight. However, instead of fighting, Nero caught a young servant girl and grabbed her in a single, swift movement. She didn’t even have time to scream as Nero clamped down on her mouth with his right hand and squeezed her lower ribs with his left.
The girl quickly realized that if she didn’t move, the pain wouldn’t be so bad, and so she froze in place, trembling in fear at the fate she assumed would soon befall her.
Nero and Hadjar looked at each other.
They had to kill the soldiers, regardless of whether they were men or women. But they had never before killed servants who weren’t even able to wield weapons. Taking pity on the girl, Hadjar gently struck her in the temple, and the maid fell into Nero’s arms.
Acting quickly, the conspirators tied up the unfortunate witness and, by pressing on a few points, they blocked the nerve endings of the maid’s body for the rest of the day. Having finished with their preparations after gagging her just in case, they placed her in a suit of armor standing nearby and continued on their way.
“Time,” Nero said, keenly aware of their need to be in and out before the fifteen minutes expired.
Hadjar swore mentally. They had lost three precious minutes because of this damn girl. Now they only had nine minutes at their disposal. Nine minutes to both kill the General and get out of the castle before it was too late.
The rest of their journey to Larvie’s chambers went by without a single incident. However, doubt filled their souls with every step that brought them closer to the massive, ironclad doors. They could feel unusual vibrations in the energy of the world around them. It was as if someone was absorbing the energy by concentrating it into one specific location.
When they got close to the bedroom’s entrance, Nero and Hadjar froze. Four soldiers clad in heavy armor were on duty. Their footsteps echoed in the corridor, and their armor glittered in the moonlight that entered the castle through the stained glass of the windows and the multitude of arrow slits.
Can you feel it? Hadjar asked with the help of his fingers.
Alpha, Nero answered.
Their worst fears had turned out to be reality. As the popular saying went, the worst outcome was always the most probable. On the other side of that door, General Larvie had made a substantial breakthrough on the path of becoming a true cultivator. Because of this, his obvious excitement was rippling through the surrounding energy, further complicating Hadjar and Nero’s mission.
The former practitioner and newly made cultivator absorbed an inconceivable amount of energy as he ascended to a new level. It was believed that the more energy one could absorb and recycle, the stronger the foundation of their further cultivation would be.
It didn’t matter whether the General had made a breakthrough thanks to the imperial scroll meant to enslave him or something else. If he succeeded, even the Moon General wouldn’t be able to beat him anymore.
They only had one chance. Just a single shot at stopping this.
Ready, Nero signaled.
Both of them, hidden in the darkness, were concealing their aura. But it couldn’t be suppressed forever, especially when they were going to be utilizing their best Techniques in the upcoming fights.
The guards were too slow to react. They’d felt the presence of the two practitioners lurking in the darkness somewhere, but the very next thing they felt was death.
The first deadly strike came in the form of a giant’s palm crowned with heavy blades instead of fingers.
The second fatal attack was a whirlwind of cutting wind, with ghostly swords hidden inside of it.
The guards were sliced up and torn apart. Blood spatter ruined the pictures hanging nearby and painted a new, crimson tapestry on the stone walls. Sections of armor fell with a loud clang, and the echoes from the fall were heard all throughout the hallways. The cries of the soldiers garrisoned there, weapons being prepared, and stamping feet immediately came from somewhere downstairs.
“We don’t have much time, buddy!” Nero shouted.
There was no point in hiding anymore.
Covering his friend’s back once again, Nero took up a fighting stance and stood opposite the only set of stairs that led upward and to the General’s chambers.
“Hurry!” Nero shouted as he sent another ‘Giant’s Hand’ into the darkness.
The screams of the wounded could be heard, accompanied by large splashes of blood.
Hadjar turned to the door and kicked the hinges. His strike was comparable in power to that of an angry buffalo, and so it was no surprise when the iron sections of the door crumpled and the old oak shattered into splinters.
While Nero held back the advance of the garrison, Hadjar went inside the lamplit chambers. Filled with silk, brocade, and fringe, it was as huge as Hadjar’s room in the Palace of his father had been.
The ferocious man that he was here to kill sat in the center of the room in a lotus position, leaning against the giant bed. The scars that covered his face glistened in the moonlight, and the war hammer he’d used in many wars lay at his feet, the swirls of energy around him visible even to the naked eye.
Hadjar’s attention, however, was drawn by more than just the hammer.
A scarlet stone was lying in front of Larvie. It was like a glittering heart made of stone, and it evoked vague memories in Hadjar’s subconscious. Finally, Hadjar remembered.
Colin had eaten a similar stone during their duel, and then turned into an unknown creature. A creature that had been capable of many things that Colin wouldn’t have been able to do even after another fifty years of training.
“Damn it!” Hadjar swore, wiping his brow.
He didn’t want to know what Larvie would turn into when he made a breakthrough with this stone. Because, in addition to the strands of world energy, thick, scarlet ropes of raw power, emanating from the center of the stone heart, were currently being drawn into his chest.
I should say something…
Instead, he just raised his blade. The Moon Beam was enveloped in ghostly sword energy, and a mighty wind swept through the chamber. It tore down the canopy and the heavy curtains, and the light of the evening outside flooded the room with silver as the sword turned into a dragon’s fang.
Larvie opened his eyes. They were completely inhuman—as red as the stone that lay in front of him.
A powerful gust of energy struck Hadjar’s chest like a battering ram and he nearly dropped his sword in shock as he was thrown across the room, flung about thirty feet away, and hit the wall near Nero—who had already closed the door leading to the stairs that were now covered with the corpses of the garrison that he had fended off.
“What the…”
Nero turned and saw the General calmly approaching them. He shook the giant hammer in his hand as he walked toward them, a shimmering red haze swirling around his body.
Hadjar had slid down the wall and was now rising gingerly to his feet. He gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, unable to decide whether he was getting up through determination or fear. He could feel a certain wrongness to this red energy. It wasn’t the same as the energy of this world; it was almost alien and incredibly strong and fierce.
“We’re too late,” Nero croaked, standing shoulder to shoulder with Hadjar.
“I was afraid that I’d have to follow you to the Balium border.” General Larvie laughed. “But I see you came to me on your own, Senior Officer Hadjar.”
Nero and Hadjar stood together in silence as they kept their eyes on their enemy. He exuded confidence and there was more than a hint of immense power coming to the fore.
“Power! What power!” He kept repeating, clenching and unclenching his fists. “This is how a true cultivator feels! This is what a real w
arrior is!”
The General swung his hammer, and the red shockwave caused by this simple action swept away part of the stone wall of the castle. Now Hadjar and Nero weren’t standing near the wall, but at the edge of a cliff instead, one that led to a dark abyss just waiting to devour them.
Message to host:
An impact of the ‘Greatest Danger’ classification has been observed in the area of interest.
The impact energy level:
>6 Energy Points.
Approximate analysis:
The foe is a Heaven Soldier
“Have you ever fought a Heaven Soldier before?” Hadjar asked Nero.
“No,” his friend answered.
“Then it’ll be the first time for both of us.”
“You know what they say: The first time is always a pain-”
Nero didn’t get to finish his sentence, interrupted by an incoming strike. This time, the red wave that Larvie sent forth wasn’t aimed at the wall. It was directed at them.
Chapter 81
Nero and Hadjar used their Techniques at the same time. While the invisible dome of the ‘Calm Wind’ covered them both, the giant’s palm topped with five swords rushed to meet the oncoming scarlet wave. The attack stance of the ‘Light Breeze’ had less force than the ‘Giant’s Hand’. So, without saying a word, they’d made a plan and distributed their Techniques accordingly.
The scarlet wave rushing forward looked like a red river and was so powerful that it simply swept away the ‘Giant’s Hand’. It vaporized it, only slowing its inexorable progress toward them slightly.
A moment later, a wave hit Hadjar’s defenses. Blood flowed from Hadjar’s nose, but he still resisted. Nero shouted something indistinguishable, but Hadjar continued to defend against the attack.
The blood was now flowing not only from Hadjar’s nose but also from his eyes and ears. It felt to him, at that moment, like he was trying to carry the whole damn castle on his shoulders. That one, simple swing of the Heaven Soldier’s hammer had been so incredibly strong and heavy.
Dragon Heart: Iron Will. LitRPG Wuxia Series: Book 2 Page 4
