[This is the tale of how everything changed, how hope was extinguished.]
—•••••••••••—
The scene was nothing short of catastrophic, unimaginable in its devastation. All eyes were fixed on the heavens, where a celestial being lay on its side, casting an eerie glow upon the sky.
But this was no ordinary angelic presence. No, what loomed before them was a creature of darkness, a harbinger of doom. The onlookers felt a chill run down their spines, for they knew deep down that this being had come to bring destruction upon them.
In the ancient texts of the Four Divine Gods, angels were said to bring joy and solace to those who beheld them. But this angel, or rather, this devil, brought only fear and despair.
Deep down, everyone knew that destruction and death would be brought upon them
—••••••••••—
As the night grew colder and darker, a group of riders emerged from the shadows. Clad in black cloaks that seemed to embody death itself, they rode towards the fading light of the setting sun. A frigid breeze, both real and ethereal, swirled around them, closing in with each passing moment. Their only hope lay in the rising sun, the promise of a new day.
The leader of the riders raised his hand, signaling his comrades to halt. One among them, a figure shrouded in mystery, stood tall and steady on his steed. Though his face remained hidden, his companions could sense the faintest hint of a smile. It was his nature, after all.
With a swift motion, he unveiled a long, translucent cloth adorned with the majestic figure of a Fire Phoenix. Flames danced around its wings and legs, a symbol of both power and destruction.
The frozen fog, seemingly conscious, witnessed this unexpected turn of events, causing its icy breeze to come to a sudden halt as if someone had slammed on the brakes.
Regrettably, for the frozen fog, the events that unfolded were unavoidable. With a simple flick of his wrist, the mysterious figure in the black cloak unleashed a raging inferno.
The other seven riders remained unaffected by the firestorm. To the untrained eye, it appeared as though they were consumed by the flames, but those with a keen eye could see the fire encasing them, forming a protective barrier. This phenomenon was a result of the rider at the rear crossing its fingers, triggering this unique defense mechanism.
As nature crumbled to ashes, the arsonist who had set the frozen fog ablaze gracefully lifted his finger. A wall of fire erupted, stretching as far as the walls of the majestic Ringed City of New Gold.
With a satisfied smile, the cloaked arsonist settled onto his steed, admiring his handiwork from a distance. Relief washed over the group, for the battle, if one could even call it that, was finally over. They had successfully rid themselves of the frozen fog that had plagued them since their escape from the Capital City of Lörehaven.
"I'm relieved that creature is no longer on our trail," a soft and elegant voice spoke from the arsonist's left side. He turned to look at her. "Indeed," he replied dryly. "I thought we had lost it when we crossed the Trident." The female rider's words were partly directed at herself and partly to her comrades.
"I had the same thought," another female voice chimed in, cutting through the now-warming air. She was the one who had crossed her fingers, protecting her fellow riders.
"Enough talking. We still have several days ahead of us," the leader of the group declared, his voice rough and commanding. The riders nodded in silence as they continued their journey through the night.
As the first rays of the beautiful sun began to peek over the horizon, none of them uttered a word. They had finally arrived home.
At long last, they had reached the majestic capital city of Eldritch Moor, their true home.
—••••••••••••—
Chapter One: The Great Shift Part
—•••••••••••••—
Perching on the cliff's edge, an immense Wisteria tree overlooked the sprawling metropolis of Eldritch Moor. Its vibrant purple leaves cascaded down, an enchanting sight against the backdrop of the small moat. Legend had it that this moat was the creation of the enigmatic Emperor Egon, the first Dark Emperor.
To cross the moat and reach solid ground, one had to traverse thirteen carefully placed steps. The Wisteria tree, known as The Royal Tree that Governs the Eldritchians, held a watchful presence at the base. Nestled beneath its thick foliage, a young lad sat with a brush in hand and a canvas on his lap. Beside him lay a leather bag, once filled with his artistic tools.
Silently, he'd hummed a melodious tune while mixing pigments and watercolors. There was a serene joy in his eyes as he created, capturing the landscape before him—the descending hill, the azure sky, and the lush greenery. But as the breeze grew stronger, he stopped humming, realizing the futility of his artistic pursuit in the face of the wind's might.
Standing up, the warmth of the sun bathed his face as it filtered through the Wisteria leaves. In that light, he appeared extraordinary, with a captivating aura and a personality that defied norms. The glare of sunlight momentarily blinded one eye, while the other reflected a gleam of determination. After allowing his vision to adjust, he gazed up at the sky and began to tread towards the thirteen steps.
Yves Cassian, a scientist of profound mystery and occasional artist, possessed an undeniable allure. His magnetic presence and unparalleled intellect commanded attention and respect from all who encountered him.
Yves stands tall, exuding an air of confidence that borders on arrogance. His striking figure is complemented by his disheveled snow-white hair, adding to his aura of nonchalance. However, it is his mesmerizing emerald eyes, usually concealed behind sunglasses, that truly set him apart. While his peers believe these eyes hold unimaginable scientific power, only he knows the truth—they are simply his secret weapon when it comes to charming the ladies.
In terms of fashion, Yves effortlessly blends traditional and modern styles. He wears a black, high-collared trench coat adorned with intricate patterns, giving him a stylish and authoritative presence. Underneath, he sports a crisp white shirt and dark pants. His gloved fingers hide the intricate tattoos he acquired in his younger years.
Within the realm of science, Yves Cassian is a figure who embodies knowledge, mystery, and a strong sense of duty. As he takes one last look, he turns back and begins his descent.
Eldritch Moor, a city he was not raised in but grew to love, holds a special place in Yves' heart. The people, the cuisine, and his semi-fame as a scientist have fostered a deep appreciation for Eldritch Moor, despite its name sounding like something out of his mother's tales of Crazed Gods.
As Yves makes his way down the cliff, he observes couples of all ages enjoying their time together. The Royal Cliff, once exclusive to the high Lords and Royalty, has now become accessible to commoners. Although it may be unsightly in the eyes of the Royals, love knows no boundaries.
Curiously, Yves notices a group of businessmen as he nears the end of the hill. He tries to ignore them, but their accessories catch his eye—a pair of golden sunglasses, a crystal monocle reflecting sunlight, and a beautifully inscribed golden layered item.
As Yves made his way towards the exit, the man sporting golden sunglasses engaged in a conversation with the gentleman wearing a crystal monocle. Their words were not in Lingorien, the language of the humans, or even Ancient Lingorien. Instead, they conversed in a different tongue, exchanging nods before all three businessmen stood up and went their separate ways, leaving the lover's attraction behind.
Leaving the bustling attraction behind, Yves ventured further into the city. A sense of unease washed over him as he walked, a slight tremor of fear coursing through his veins.
Oh, how he despised entering the city. To thrive in this urban jungle, like Yves had managed to do, one had to be tough, resilient, and constantly on guard against envious vagabonds and destitute souls.
Adjusting his posture and demeanor, he maneuvered past a diverse array of individuals. On his way to the cliffside, he must have left his cane at the Clinic. "I suppose I can rely on my fists if need be," Yves weakly mused to himself, catching sight of elegant women along the way.
Vagabonds scurried away into dimly lit alleyways, their eyes filled with longing as they cast envious glances at the well-accompanied ladies strolling by.
Of course, they were not the only ones. Countless others roamed the streets like the walking dead, endlessly searching for money that always seemed to elude them, constantly met with excuses of empty pockets.
The streets were teeming with all sorts of people. Maidens, chaperones, gentlemen, and ambitious young businessmen all traversed the bustling thoroughfares.
As Yves delved deeper into the heart of the city, the rumble of carriages and the distant sounds of trains grew louder. Before long, the magnificent sight of an imposing water fountain came into view.
The Great Fountain, a creation attributed to Avery Archimander, stood before him. Supposedly, it spanned an impressive 60 feet by 300 feet, the first of its kind—or so they claimed.
Yves found it hard to believe, considering the abundance of similar fountains scattered throughout the city. However, he reasoned that every creation must have its origins. It was a logical conclusion, after all.
As a fountain, it was fairly basic, consisting of a basic foundation, which consisted of; A flat bed of water that seemed infinite in scale, with intricate designs of Four Holy Divine figures and Four Devilish figures. There were eight in total, perfectly balanced. Quite rare to see nowadays, the world has been filled with asymmetrical designs since the Sixth Eon, also known as the Age of The Shadowed Silence.
At the very top of the foundation were eight hands that released water evenly to all sides. Yves walked around through the municipal water square as he pushed it deeper into the city. He nearly reached his destination as he pulled out a small gold pocket watch to check the time.
6:23:23 P.M
—••••••••••••—
At the end of the city block stood a small building, adorned with intricate stone carvings of ancient kings, queens, and warriors. It was a common sight among the surrounding buildings, all tightly packed together. Yves found himself outside the corner building, which happened to be the largest in the area. It had a second floor, a back entrance, and a fire exit.
A sign reading "Cecil's Miracle Clinic" hung in front of the building. Yves knew that Cecil, along with his assistant and friend Jean, lived on the second floor. They had all met at the University of Egon, where Yves was a young student who had just moved to the city for his first year of college. Cecil and Jean were a couple of years ahead, studying alongside Jean's twin sister, Audrey.
As Yves entered the clinic, he was greeted by a delightful and soothing aroma that filled his senses. He spotted one of his closest friends, a woman a few years older than him. Yves never dared to ask her age, as it would be impolite. He cleared his throat.
"Ms. Godiva, what a pleasant surprise to see you here at work." Ms. Godiva looked up, her intense gaze softening as she laid eyes on Yves. He observed her scanning him from head to toe before returning to her paperwork without a word. Yves coughed, preparing to speak again.
"Mr. Cecil, Ms. Audrey, and Ms. Jean are in the back, studying. If you don't have any business with them, I suggest you leave. You know how intense Cecil can get." The brunette spoke with a directness that Yves found both amusing and refreshing. He didn't respond to Godiva's words, but he took action.
Walking through the back, Yves found himself in a long hallway. As he approached, he could hear Cecil's maniacal laughter and muffled conversations. Yves couldn't help but feel sorry for Audrey, knowing how bored she must be.
Jean always paid close attention whenever Cecil launched into one of his lengthy rants about medical history or any other topic that occupied his vast mind. "It's like he never runs out of things to say," Yves mused to himself as he reached for the door handle.
As he opened the door, Yves caught sight of Cecil scribbling something on the board while continuing his ramblings. Jean and Audrey, who were twin sisters, seemed somewhat intrigued, although Jean was definitely the more captivated one. Audrey, on the other hand, gazed up at the ceiling, perhaps counting the atoms until Cecil's rant would finally come to an end. She probably had already counted half of them.
When Yves stepped into the room, Cecil's rant abruptly ceased, much to Jean's partial disappointment and Audrey's delight. Yves could tell from the look on Jean's face that she was genuinely fascinated by whatever Cecil had been going on about.
"Called it," Yves sarcastically chuckled to himself as Cecil, Jean, and Audrey turned their attention towards him. "Ah... my boy, Yves. How are you?" Cecil inquired with concern. "I've seen better days, but I suppose that goes for all of us," Yves replied, earning a nod of acknowledgment from Cecil.
"Well, lie down, my boy. Death waits for no one's morals," Cecil spoke softly as he cleared the cold metal table for Yves. Yves had already removed his trenchcoat, leaving it hanging on the coat rack.
Jean stood up, her tousled blonde hair obstructing Yves' view. Yves took off his white shirt and handed it to Jean. It was hard to believe that Jean, Audrey, and Cecil were all in their early thirties, while Yves himself was only twenty-seven. Their appearances didn't quite match their youthful and flawless faces, especially Audrey's.
With his shirt off, Yves' condition became the most prominent feature about him, overshadowing even his snow-white hair and emerald-green eyes. His entire left shoulder down to his waist was covered in a patchwork of light black, with hints of purple, red, and blue. Yves lay down on the table, the once cold surface now providing a comforting bed for him to rest upon.
Gradually, he drifted into slumber under the influence of the drugs Cecil had injected into his bloodstream. His last moments of consciousness were filled with the sight of Jean, Cecil, and Audrey preparing to carry out whatever task lay ahead.
A fruitless effort to beat his disease.
"The oldest and strongest serial killers in history are diseases, and scariest of those diseases are the unknown."
[Yves, a man cursed with the disease of the unknown. He's a struggler. A man against the curse given to him by Fate and the Divine Gods.]
—••••••••••••••—
Jean, Cecil, Audrey, and Godiva strolled through the partially deserted streets of Eldritch Moor, with Yves trailing slightly behind them. Yves remained silent, but his eyes spoke volumes. His body seemed to be under the influence of various substances, providing a numbing sensation without overdosing his system.
As Yves glanced downwards, a nagging thought that had been bothering him from the start began to surface. "I don't understand why I continue down this path. I know I will meet my end. It's an inevitable fact. But why... why do they persist in believing they can save me?"
The weight of his mortality started to consume him, especially when it came to those he cared for deeply but couldn't fully comprehend with his heart. He lifted his gaze and realized they were nearing the corner.
Just before they turned onto the Great Fountain, Yves looked up from the ground, taking a moment to observe them.
They were the people he admired the most, the friends he considered his chosen family. Cecil, Jean, Audrey, and finally, Godiva.
Yves studied them, taking in their attire, their unique personalities, and the shared memories they held. He let out a soft sigh, careful not to let them hear.
Cecil sported a light blue vest, black trousers, and a black long shirt layered over his vest. His shoes had a subtle blue tint. In terms of appearance, Cecil inherited his father's gray eyes and had slightly slicked-back hair with a receding hairline. His eyes held a sharpness reminiscent of war veterans, and he had faint bags under his eyes, along with a hint of stubble on his defined jawline.
Cecil possessed an introverted personality, and he held Jean and Audrey in high regard as they were his first true friends. When they initially met, Cecil had guided Yves around the campus at the request of Dean Morgan. It was later that day when he encountered Audrey and Jean.
Standing beside Cecil was his assistant, Jean. She and her sister were both blondes, but their styles and postures clearly distinguished them from one another.
Jean presented herself as a timid woman, always keeping to herself. Her long, messy blonde hair framed her soft, delicate facial features, accentuating her twin amber-hazel eyes and light red lips. Standing at a height of 157 cm, she and her sister were slightly shorter than average. Her attire consisted of a brown long-sleeve shirt paired with a brown leather vest, complemented by brown straight trousers and a belt. As for footwear, she opted for regular black shoes.
Unlike Cecil, who grew up as an only child, Jean always had her sister by her side. Initially, she was too shy to even shake hands with Yves when they first met. However, Audrey encouraged her to step out of her comfort zone and interact with him. Surprisingly, within a week, Jean had grown accustomed to Yves' presence and considered him a close friend.
While Jean and Cecil were practically inseparable, Audrey stood four feet away from them. Despite the physical distance, Audrey shared many similarities with her twin sisters, albeit with a few subtle yet distinctive features. Her freckles, inherited from their mother, adorned her face, starting from each end of her cheekbones and bridging across her nose. Unlike Jean's long, unkempt blonde locks, Audrey sported a shorter hairstyle.
Her hair cascaded down to the nape of her neck, but from there, it was cut shorter, reaching just above her sharp jawline. The hair near her eyes was trimmed even shorter, stopping at her eyebrows. This unique haircut, resembling a hush cut with a twist, caught Yves' attention and he found it incredibly beautiful. Additionally, Audrey possessed the same captivating eyes as her handsome father. While both eyes had an amber-hazel hue, her left eye was lighter, while her right eye was strikingly bright. At times, they shone so brilliantly that they could illuminate even the darkest room.
With her subtle red lips, Jean exuded a hint of allure, while Audrey, on the other hand, boasted a striking contrast with her fully glossy lips. These subtle differences alone make it clear why Audrey is the more sought-after twin.
Audrey's fashion sense leaned towards minimalism, favoring simple and understated attire. She opted for basic shoes paired with smooth brown trousers that, despite their affordable appearance, boasted a luxurious and soft fabric that Audrey adored. She completed her ensemble with an oversized white long-sleeve shirt, featuring a large V-shaped neckline that would have exposed her chest if not for the clever addition of stitched brown cloth strands.
In contrast to her sister Jean and their friend Cecil, Audrey possessed a vibrant and outgoing personality. She warmly engaged with people she met, openly sharing details about her life. When Yves first encountered Audrey, he found her to be the most captivating woman, as they both shared a love for socializing and connecting with others.
Walking alongside Audrey was Godiva, a sight that never failed to soften Yves' gaze. To him, she was a true vision of beauty, radiating a gentle, ethereal aura. Godiva, the second youngest in their group, exuded an air of maturity and grace that belied her age. With her statuesque posture and commanding presence, she carried herself with the poise befitting her privileged background. Standing at a modest height of 162 cm, her dark raven hair and crimson red eyes captivated the hearts of many admirers.
Her ensemble consisted of a black top that covered her neck, adorned with a golden amulet and five dangling golden rings. A light crimson corset dress encircled her waist, featuring an alluring cutout that exposed her stomach. To balance the ensemble, she wore a lightweight yet substantial metal waistband and a sweeping crimson red coat that cascaded down to her shoes.
Godiva possessed a unique blend of introversion and extroversion. While she often remained quiet and reserved, she would open up more freely about her life with close friends and trusted individuals, surpassing the level of openness exhibited by Cecil and Jean, though still falling short of Audrey's effervescent nature.
When they first crossed paths, Godiva was in her third year of school. It had been a few months since Yves had met Cecil, Audrey, and Jean, and they soon discovered that they shared every single class for the entire year. Initially, when they interacted, Godiva was reserved and only extended her hand to introduce herself, refusing to answer any questions about herself.
However, spending an entire year in the same classes with someone inevitably leads to a certain level of openness. It seemed that the school counselors had intentionally matched their classes based on last names, interests, and availability, a fact that both Godiva and Yves shared. As a result, they ended up having the same classes for six years straight. They knew each other inside out, through the good times and the bad, and even more.
As Yves snapped back to reality, he looked at his friends with a smile. "As long as I have them, there's nothing to worry about," he said, gazing up at the sky. The golden hue of the setting sun brought him a sense of relief and joy. Finally, as they turned the corner towards the Great Fountain, the bells began to ring.
This sudden sound caught Cecil, Yves, and Godiva off guard. "What's happening?" Audrey asked innocently. Cecil checked his pocket watch and realized that the moonlight bells didn't usually ring until 8 o'clock.
It was 7:46:59 PM.
A silhouette started to emerge from the houses and ascend into the sky, capturing the attention of Cecil, Jean, Audrey, and Godiva. Their pupils dilated as they fell into a trance-like state, their eyes fixated on the silhouette. Their bodies seemed to give way, unable to support themselves.
Meanwhile, Yves was too preoccupied with searching through his pocket to notice.
In just one second, everything changed.
Yves collapsed to the ground, his knees buckling under the weight of an invisible force. He fought to stay conscious, his eyes threatening to roll back into his head. Blood trickled from his ears, and veins bulged around his eyes. Another bell rang, intensifying the pain to a whole new level.
Yves' eyes rolled back in his head multiple times, the pain preventing him from closing them forever.
It felt like an eternity had passed, the pain suddenly subsided, but Yves' nerves were completely shot. Amidst the screams and cries, Yves strained to lift his head and look up. However, his eyes were still hindered by the lingering pain.
Yves lay face down on the pavement, struggling to raise his head with his chin to catch a glimpse of his friends.
The first thing he noticed were Cecil, Jean, Audrey, and Godiva, all still in a dazed state. As Yves focused on Cecil, something else caught his attention. In the distance, perched on Cecil's right shoulder, was a clock tower displaying the time:
07:47:22.
Only 23 seconds had passed since Yves fell and Cecil and the others fell into their comatose state. "What on earth could be happening?" Yves wondered, his mind racing.
He couldn't comprehend or make sense of the situation. Such an occurrence was impossible, according to his studies. Gravity was a universal force, so to manipulate it like this must be the work of a divine being or some hidden existence.
After a few moments, Yves managed to stand up, feeling nothing at all. His pain receptors were temporarily fried, a small respite from his ordeal.
Weakly, Yves reached for Cecil's legs, gripping his ankles tightly. He shook Cecil vigorously, pleading, "Come on, Cecil. Wake up." He repeated these words over and over again.
[BONG!]
A shiver ran down Yves' spine, expecting the worst. But instead of pain, the tolling bell brought a sense of harmony.
Instinctively, Yves looked up at the sky, where Cecil and the others were fixated.
What Yves witnessed was beyond imagination, venturing into the realm of impossible possibilities…
Etched across the sky and the heavens themselves were a breathtaking display of clouds, leading to a distant staircase. At the forefront of this grand staircase lay a captivating and enigmatic creature, resembling a human, resting on its side. With a single finger extended towards the masses below, anticipation filled the hearts of all who witnessed this spectacle, from the high lords in their manors to the slaves confined in their cages.
This was the moment they had yearned for, seeking confirmation that their chosen religion held. Yet, instead of being presented with gods or goddesses, humanity was bestowed with the presence of a solitary angel of unparalleled beauty. In the sacred texts of the four paramount religions, angels were often depicted as the judges, jurors, and executors of God's will. Thus, the onlookers held their breath as another finger was raised, with the holy thumb and middle finger extended.
As the world's light converged into a single point where the thumb and middle finger met, darkness seemed to envelop everyone. Even Audrey, with her radiant amber eye, vanished from sight. The already elusive angel transformed into a radiant beacon, shining as brightly as the sun. The celestial clouds behind it dissipated, yet it maintained its outstretched fingers.
With a graceful ascent, the angel soared higher and higher towards the now dim sun, traversing the exosphere and venturing into the depths of space. From its vantage point, the angel beheld not only the world but also the realms above and below it. Yves, however, could still perceive the angel's brilliance, even amidst the exosphere and the vastness of space. Its luminosity was so captivating that it mesmerized him, despite the potential harm to his vision.
It appeared as though the angel's radiance could engulf the entire world. And in an instant, a sound that had resonated throughout Yves' life reverberated through his ears.
[SNAP!]
The light expanded, stretching out into an endless expanse of vibrant colors and profound ideas about life. It was a spiritual journey that engulfed everyone, bringing a sense of tranquility and serenity. In that moment, their physical bodies seemed insignificant, as if they could be wiped away from existence and memory, yet still find peace in their ultimate end.
This was the natural effect an angel had on mortal bodies when they were witnessed by them.
But just as quickly as the spiritual adventure began, it came to an abrupt end. The people's vision started to return, and Yves was the first to awaken. All his nerves and pain vanished as if they had never existed. However, the bloodstains on the pavement served as a haunting reminder of the reality they had just experienced.
No one could believe what they had witnessed.
The existence of divinity was undeniable.
It didn't matter which sect the angel or devil belonged to. The concept of divinity had been debated for decades, but now it had been unequivocally confirmed. The devout believers began to pray, their hands clasped together in reverence.
A whole minute passed in complete silence. The horses pulling carriages made no sound, and the high lords observing from their windows remained silent. It was as if everyone and everything had ethereal threads extending from their heads as if they were being controlled like puppets in a grand play.
Yves rose from the stone pavement, catching the attention of Cecil, Jean, Audrey, and Godiva. Slowly, their pupils regained their composure, mirroring Yves' recovery. Cecil was the first to find his voice after the extraordinary event.
"What... What just happened? I can't believe it. Hee hee... I..." Cecil stammered, holding his temples as he spoke. Jean looked at him with concern, and Cecil took a seat on the stone pavement.
But before Yves could approach Cecil to offer comfort, he sensed that something was amiss. A feeling of impending danger washed over him. And just as those unsettling emotions settled in, a figure emerged into the sight of Jean, Audrey, and Godiva.
It was a tall man, emerging from the alleyway. His attire, if it could even be called that, was peculiar.
He donned the same type of armor worn by the ancient knights who served under the rule of the White Emperor, Griffith.
Yves and Cecil were completely engrossed in their thoughts, oblivious to each other's concerns. Jean and Audrey, however, wasted no time rushing to Cecil's aid, supporting him as his legs trembled from the shock he had experienced.
Meanwhile, Godiva approached Yves, gently tapping his shoulder and leaning in close to whisper in his ear. Her words snapped him out of his daze, and he looked at her with a mixture of surprise and seriousness etched on her face.
With Cecil and Yves now back on their feet, the group turned their attention to the approaching man. He stood tall at an impressive height of 194 cm (6'4), his broad frame accentuated by colossal shoulders and a slender waist.
But it wasn't just his physique that caught everyone's attention. His sharp jawline, icy blue eyes, and short brown curly hair that framed his forehead, combined with his intense gaze, made it impossible to look away. However, it was his attire that truly left a lasting impression.
Dressed like a warrior ready for battle, he wore a suit of armor that would make his ancestors proud. Each shoulder was adorned with layered black metal, while his arms were covered in a combination of thick black cloth and chain mail. His chest was protected by a four-inch deep black metal plate, with strategically placed gaps to enhance his flexibility.
As the group took in his formidable appearance, they couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation. It was clear that this man was not to be taken lightly, and they knew they would need his strength and expertise in the challenges that lay ahead.
The chest piece showcased a striking emblem of a blackened-leaf tree, positioned prominently at the center. Behind it, a backdrop of crimson night stars added a touch of mystique. The entire design was crafted from the same black metal that enveloped the knight's armor, creating a cohesive and formidable appearance.
Moving down, the knight donned the familiar under-protection cloth, ensuring an extra layer of defense. However, there was a new addition—a loose belt adorned with a long, flowing strip of crimson fabric that cascaded down to his feet. The cloth possessed a translucent quality, yet with a mere glance, it seemed to possess an elusive and slippery nature.
The metal used for the knight's leg armor matched the rest of his attire, providing ample protection while allowing for flexibility and agility in combat.
Aside from the masterful armor set, another element that caught the attention of Yves and the onlookers was the colossal broadsword. It was so substantial that it could almost be classified as a greatsword, if not for its thickness.
With a single glance, Yves estimated that the broadsword measured a staggering 175 cm in length while being only around ten inches wide. The blade was sheathed in a beautiful crimson hue, transitioning to black with intricate golden markings at the top 25 cm—the precise location of the sheath's locket. The remaining length, from 25 to 175 cm, boasted a thick crimson color reminiscent of dried blood. The pommel, on the other hand, was a dazzling golden gem, measuring approximately 2 cm in width and 4 cm in length.
The cross-guard and grip of the broadsword were equally impressive, featuring black ends and adorned with golden gems at the center of the cross-guard. The cross-guard itself was remarkably wide, spanning almost the entire breadth of the knight's broad chest.
In his right hand, the enigmatic knight firmly grasped the scabbard of his broadsword, reminiscent of intrepid explorers venturing across the world with a sturdy staff and essential gear. And in his left hand, he held his final piece of equipment—the helmet, completing his formidable ensemble.
helmet that the knight wore was a peculiar sight to behold. Its round shape with pointed ends resembled the graphics from old video games, giving it a jagged and menacing appearance.
There were no openings for the mouth or chin, but it was wide enough to withstand powerful blows while still allowing fresh air to circulate inside.
The only vulnerable spot seemed to be the thin opening that revealed the knight's icy blue eyes, which could be targeted by an enemy. It was as if those piercing eyes could see through the souls of his soon-to-be defeated foes, instilling fear in anyone who dared to face him.
Yves couldn't help but imagine the knight wearing the helmet, and the mere thought sent shivers down his spine. The knight would transform into a dark fury or a wraith, ready to claim the souls of those who crossed his path
As the knight approached Yves and the others, they noticed something peculiar about his speech. His mouth moved, but no words escaped, as if his voice had suddenly gone silent. It was only after a brief pause that they finally heard his words, but there was a noticeable delay between his tongue and the spoken words. Audrey, Jean, and Godiva exchanged puzzled glances, realizing that the knight's mouth and tongue were not in sync with his speech.
In a pompous and overzealous tone, "Excuse me. But where exactly are we? Madam…Sir." He even went as far as to bow gently, displaying an air of arrogance. Yves couldn't help but feel a sense of unease in the knight's presence.
However, amidst their confusion, Yves noticed something strange that no one else seemed to see. Around the knight's neck, a thick crimson cloth appeared, resembling a veil or a scarf. It was a sudden and unexpected addition to his attire. Yves observed as the knight's hand reached out to touch the mysterious scarf, unable to decipher his true emotions. But it was his eyes that captivated Yves the most, holding a secret that begged to be unraveled.
In a mesmerizing moment, the knight's grip tightened on the scarf, and before Cecil and Yves could fully comprehend what was happening, the once pure crimson color transformed into a vivid depiction. It portrayed a mighty knight, slaying another with a single swing of his broadsword. It was a representation of the very knight they were conversing with, the Slayer Knight.
This portrayal encompassed the entire scarlet shroud. He remained motionless, resembling a thorough corpse. "Are you okay?" Audrey inquired, genuinely concerned.
Suddenly, he began to move, but not in the manner they anticipated. He started to topple backward.
Just before he hit the pavement, Yves managed to catch him. Cecil and Audrey swiftly came to their aid.
They laid him down on the ground, the thud still echoing. As Yves and Cecil gently placed him down, Cecil glanced upwards. Towards the very spot where the angel descended from the heavens.
"For the first time in history, the realm of the living, the heavens, and the hells stood frozen in time for a single event," Cecil silently mocked.
[While we mortals remained oblivious to the reason behind this occurrence, behind the scenes of the immortal realm, they knew exactly why it happened. Specifically, the four true gods. It was their greatest champion yet. We were unaware of this at the time. It was only a matter of time before millions of lives were turned upside down. Soon, a new Age was about to be born.]
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Chapter One: End
To be continued…
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