Athelei could feel his spiritual hunger growing as he dined with Aria.
The young lady's parents had yet to return, and when the kids consulted the butler of this, they were told that Lady Karire and Sir Xiu were risking their lives to protect the city. The butler did not elaborate further, but he passed a message along to Athelei in secret.
=o=o=o=o=
Danger looms upon us. If the mansion is attacked, run to my study. Prick a drop of your blood and my daughter's blood onto the open grimoire and you will be safe. Don't worry about anything, just keep Aria safe.
As for the Mystic Pattern...
...
...
- Karire
=o=o=o=o=
'A Blessed human truly feels like a prophet just as all those stories have told,' Athelei chuckled wryly when he felt his hunger grow despite his active consumption of food.
'The Nightwalkers are coming," Athelei licked his lips before abruptly standing up.
"I sense danger," Athelei announced seriously, causing the nearby servants to freeze. "Prepare yourselves for an attack,"
Athelei then looked to Aria, "Young Lady Aria, let's go. Your mother wanted me to bring you somewhere."
The younger boy offered the six-year-old girl a hand and pulled her through the hallways. The servants who had been left behind instead pulled themselves out of their stupor. They all glanced at each other before abandoning the area. They cared little for the unfinished jobs as they scrambled to areas where the mansion had in-built defences.
Most of the servants were well-informed of the second resident Blessed in the Arthime mansion. They had all seen Lady Karire in action and admired her, so when they learned of Athelei and saw the way he behaved, they were both surprised and not really surprised. Their surprise mostly came from the fact that it was rare for two Blesseds to come together, and from the stories they knew, it had only happened enough times to be counted on one hand.
'Mmmm,' Athelei narrowed his eyes when a fierce pang of hunger assaulted him.
A line of ethereal white smoke connected him with the Nightwalkers surrounding the mansion. There were twelve different scents.
Twelve lines of white scattered all around him, but there was one that ended behind the next corner he and Aria were going to turn.
"Young Lady Aria," Athelei whispered to the girl he was pulling along, "Please cover your ears and follow me."
"O...okay, Orien," Aria replied with a nod as she let go of Athelei's hand and did as she was asked to.
Athelei smiled as a pair of grey tails grew out of his back. They stretched out two and a half metres from his body and could get even longer if he thinned them.
Aria's eyes widened when she saw Athelei's tails. The latter put his finger on his lips in a manner she recognised.
Aria briskly nodded as her widened eyes glistened in curiosity.
"Our secret?" She whispered, eliciting a playful laugh from Athelei.
"Yes, Young Lady Aria, it's our secret."
As the kids ran forward and neared a corner, a shadow emerged. It was a faceless, humanoid figure of grey fog. It wielded a green dagger that brought about a zone of silence.
The Nightwalker saw the weird tails extending from one of the children and frowned with their nonexistent brows.
'Does the Arthime family have a son?' The Nightwalker saw the grey tails heading straight for their body, but thought nothing of it, 'I just need the daughter, so unfortunately, I have no use for your life.'
The Nightwalker lunged forward, letting the green knife in their hand fly.
'I'm sorry, but this is something I must do.' The Nightwalker saw the child unable to dodge the dagger and inwardly apologised.
A mission had to be completed, no matter what. It was the only way for them to achieve their goals. It was the only way to keep hope aflame.
But then the child painted a sweet smile on his face. The Nightwalker felt a sense of foreboding just as they noticed the tails touch their body. Something felt so incredibly wrong as all their senses screamed aloud.
It felt like a predator was baring its fangs at them at that very moment.
'What are you—' The Nightwalker was questioning the child's actions when an unimaginable pain assaulted their entire body.
AAAAAAAH
Athelei watched as the Nightwalker lost their momentum, releasing the dagger in their hand. The dagger ended up in Athelei's hands as the Nightwalker screamed.
But no one could actually hear the supposed blood-curdling screams.
'Lucky,' Athelei cackled in his mind, 'Confronting a silencing Nightwalker is way better than a shadow manipulator or flame wielder while I'm in my physical body.'
When the Nightwalker was fully devoured, their green silencing knife disappeared with them. It allowed sound to return to Athelei and Aria's surroundings. Their footsteps became audible to them once more.
"It's okay now," Athelei tugged at Aria and they continued forward, "Let's keep going."
.
.
.
'Targets identified,' Gusche was drifting about the wide waters, looking like a half-dead body on a piece of driftwood.
He had been lost at sea after he joined the battle at the God's Altar. His food and drink had come from but one Skill. His meals were composed of a single cookie, but it wasn't just any cookie.
He dined on Mystic Cookies as he awaited the prophesized moment.
[]-[]-[]-[]-[]-[]
Tier I Skill: Snack
- [Active Effect] Snack allows the User to grab a Mystic Cookie from out of nowhere. Cookie quality and taste increase per level. Cooldown per summoning decreases per level.
- [Passive Effect] Snack allows the User to survive through the regular consumption of Mystic Cookies regardless of water or food intake. Minimum requirement to survive decreases per level.
[]-[]-[]-[]-[]-[]
Just those Mystic Cookies had allowed him to survive the harsh sun and the cold nights, and now a lonely ship had fallen into his gaze. His plans were coming to fruition.
All those sleepless nights studying maps and currents, all those hours of eavesdropping on fishermen at bars and pubs, led him here.
Here before a jet-black ship built from night oak. It was near-invisible in the night as it silently sailed through the haar that crept across the colder seas. That same cold fog that cloaked the night oak ship brought Gushce shivers he felt in his bones.
He could only execute Bide whenever it went off-cooldown to stave off the looming hypothermia.
[]-[]-[]-[]-[]-[]
Tier I Skill: Bide
- [Active Effect] Bide heightens User's resistances sharply for a few seconds. Duration and potency increase per level. Cooldown decreases per level.
- [Passive Effect] Bide enhances User's physique with regards to all-around resistance. Enhancement increases per level.
- [Bonus Effect: Opportunity] After every successful execution of Bide, User's luck becomes [Favored] for three seconds. Luck quality changes per level.
[]-[]-[]-[]-[]-[]
With Bide's continuous enhancement of luck, Gusche allowed coincidence to aid his plans. He continued to lie motionless on his piece of driftwood. He was like a dead man that no one would really take notice of. The fog and darkness was his veil as the sea delivered him to his targets.
Thud.
Gusche found himself pushed onto the ship's hull after another hour of being carried by the waves.
Crack, crack, crack!
The soft sound of joints being popped continuously sounded out. Gusche first moved his head, then he rolled his shoulders, bent his elbows, stretched his spine, cracked his hip sockets, and bent his knees.
His dead-looking body slowly came to life. It was as if fresh blood began flowing through his limbs once. Muscles were revived and Gusche could feel his heart suddenly becoming lively.
A burst of adrenaline supplied him with strength.
'I have made contact with the targets... My body is at acceptable conditions... Preparing for infiltration...'
A ghost-like man now climbed the ship built of night oak. He was crawling up the black hull with bandaged fingers while dripping with seawater.
The One-eyed Harbinger is among you now, walkers of the night.
.
.
.
Apple was holding a serrated dagger crafted out of bones. Spikes and spines polluted the blade that could surely tear flesh apart. It exuded an evil aura, while it smelled of decomposing corpses and sulfur.
The blade kept these scents despite the blood that was pooling around him. It wasn't stained by blood despite the bodies it had recently torn apart.
"Damn blasphemers," Apple muttered as he felt the holes in his abdomen, "I am nothing like you bastards, why won't you understand?"
A laugh echoed out from the shadows around Apple.
"We can't teach an old dog new tricks, brother." A voice said, "Just like how you can't be taught how to protect."
"Seal your lips, traitor. I've had enough of your theories and proverbs." Apple growled, his eyes shining like spotlights as it stared into the darkness.
"Ah, have you grown tired of my words of wisdom? Really brother? Despite the fact that my words have saved your life and limbs many times in the past?"
The voice laughed,
"And you repay your saviour with hatred and a cold shoulder?" The voice then sighed, the emotions in its tone being flipped on its head, "You're more of a monster than I am, brother... Living this long with luck as bad as yours? It's simply monstrous, but at the same time I cannot help but empathise,"
Apple then heard softening footsteps. The voice's owner seemed to be walking away, straight through walls of solid stone.
"For as they say, there is no greater misfortune than dying alone."
And just when Apple thought the voice would no longer bother him, he heard another laugh echo out in the distance. The caring tone went back to sarcastic and sadistic delight.
"Look out for yourself, alright brother? Take a break and set your damn head straight. Do not place your faith on those disgusting gods."