Asura and Wain traversed through the town, searching for the lingering traces left behind by quotidian mana. Its presence usually stained the air, thick and unmistakable, carrying the damp, earthy scent of petrichor. Yet, as Asura inhaled, he found nothing. The familiar fragrance that should have clung to the town like a ghost was absent. Instead, the air carried only the scent of aged wood, dry and worn by time.
Strange… Asura's eyes drifted across the town. I wonder if the shadows are behind this? Masking quotidian mana is difficult… Asura wondered as he walked alongside Wain. Then the orb before Wain's suddenly flared, its glow intensifying as it guided them. The light grew steadily brighter, pulsing with purpose until it stabilized. At last, the orb had found its mark. In the distance, nestled between the nearby houses, a crumbling church came into view. Its structure stood in silent decay, long abandoned and forgotten.
Wain stole a glance at his friend. Asura's eyes were sharp, focused with an intensity that felt almost unsettling against his normally carefree nature. I'll never get used to how bizarre this guy is… He scratched his neck. One minute, he's shoveling ice cream into his mouth like a kid, drool everywhere. The next, he's so focused he looks like a professional Paladin... His thoughts trailed off as Asura absentmindedly dug into his nose.
A sigh left Wain's lips. And there it is. Back to the child. The orb vibrated, emitting a subtle hum as it floated across the street. Asura opened his mouth to ask about the strange behavior but froze as Wain snapped his fingers. In the moment of a singular heartbeat, the orb dispersed before it could strike the church's side.
Wain's voice fell to a whisper. "This is it." Ahead, the church stood, its once-grand structure now teetering on the edge of ruin. Vines coiled around its walls, hiding what little remained of the entrance. Tall grass and untamed weeds had overtaken the ground, creating a thick, natural barrier that made drawing closer a difficult task.
"Whoever's supposed to cut the grass is scamming the owners…" Asura muttered, his eyes searching for the entrance. Then his expression twisted. "Oh, shit—that's us. We're getting scammed." Wain didn't acknowledge the remark, striding forward in silence. However, as Asura followed behind, a wave of petrichor flooded his nostrils. We are definitely in the right place…Asura thought as he studied the rough exterior. Now they just needed to get inside.
As they circled the building, Wain's gaze flicked back to the ogre. On the surface, Asura's movements appeared lax, yet Wain had come to recognize the subtle change. His eyes darted sharply like a dog listening to a whistle that issued its command. At times, the ogre displayed the unwavering focus of a knight bound by duty. Other times, he was like a defiant child.
They pushed through the overgrown foliage, only to find a massive tree rooted directly in front of the entrance. Its gnarled trunk stretched high, blocking any way inside.
"Oh yeah, totally normal," Asura whispered, his face deadpanned. Why wouldn't there be a perfectly giant tree in the direct path we need to go? Totally not suspicious at all and very normal. We should go somewhere else to look for cultists trying to hide out in an area and kidnap children for sacrifices, he seethed inwardly.
Maybe we should check a cathedral… His face pulled into a scowl. A place run by a nun, meant to protect the children. Keep them safe from the real 'demons' lurking behind masks of kindness and whispering, 'I did it for us. I did it for you. We deserve better.' As if that makes it right… His fists clenched, his blood boiling. But I'm the demon. I can't be trusted. I— His steps faltered as his wrist was suddenly snatched.
"Are you okay, dude?" Wain whispered, his eyes clouded with concern. The two paused, their gazes locking as they studied each other's expression. Silence stretched between them for a few breaths until Asura began to hear the erratic thrum of Wain's heartbeat. "I'm fine." He forced his features to relax, attempting to return them to their neutral state. But a deep, simmering rage stirred within him, one he couldn't quell. "You don't—"
"I'm fine. Let's get inside." Asura snapped at Wain, his dark eyes making it clear he didn't intend to discuss the matter any further. Wain hesitated, sensing the weight behind Asura's words. "O-okay." Wain knew that look all too well. He'd seen it many times in the Captain's eyes, eyes that carried the weight of memories they couldn't escape... Eyes that refuse to confront their trauma, Wain thought, watching Asura walk away.
He observed the ogre grip his head, his fist lightly tapping the side of his skull, as though trying to shake off the thoughts swirling inside. But the moment passed quickly, and soon enough, Asura slipped back into the playful demeanor Wain recognized. So, even you struggle with complex emotions, huh? Wain thought as he studied his friend. Guess we're not so different after all... To think we label every monster as 'evil,' yet an ogre can show more humanity than we do.
Wain's gaze drifted upward, drawn to the shattered stained glass above. Though barely intact, the fragments caught the light, shimmering with a cascade of vibrant colors. As he walked away, Asura gripped his waist with his lower arms, anger simmering beneath the surface. A fog of rage clouded his mind, but he fought to control it. I can't do anything rash here, he thought. Or these bastards won't be caught. His fists clenched tighter, his blood beginning to boil at the thought of Sarah and Malachi.
If I ever get my hands on that four-eyed, scar-faced coward… I'll rip his heart out. The thought nearly pushed him over the edge, but he slowed his breathing, forcing his pulse to steady. A sudden gust of wind carried the foul stench of dying humanity tainted by the familiar scent of mundane mana. Three men… Corpses... Lots of them. Hmm... No monsters, though. he thought, as his senses sifted through a flood of scents.
A slight smile tugged at Asura's lips, his anger momentarily giving way to something darker. "Guess I don't need to spare them. I can blow off some steam." He spoke softly, the words almost a way to anchor himself to reality. A breeze picked up, rustling the leaves of a massive oak tree behind him. Its towering trunk spread high above, its branches stretching over the decaying church like a protective shield.
Yet, the selfless tree wasn't left without its own blemishes, with large chunks of its once-beautiful form withered away. It was rotting... but not by nature's hand. Asura, having spent much of his life in the forest, recognized the signs. This wasn't caused by insects, disease, or age… "To think the humans discard a place like this just because it no longer serves them… A great way to show respect, huh?" The ogre sighed. "Now, it's nothing but a slaughterhouse for their own kind... I bet you're angry, too." He quietly asked the tree.
The wind picked up, howling as it intensified. A crack of breaking glass alerted Asura to a gaping hole in the church's roof, made by branches piercing through the shattered windows near the top. Looks me-sized, he thought as he eyed the opening. Now, there's one issue left to solve.
Then, Wain appeared, circling the building and coming into view. He locked eyes with Asura for a brief moment before Asura pointed at the opening above. "What about the hole?" Wain asked. "It's the way in." The ogre softly replied. "There's no way I'm getting up there, dude." Wain said with a frown. "Hmm, not my problem, is it?" Asura shrugged. "Guess you'll be waiting out here then." Asura gave him a playful smile, but Wain wasn't having it. Concern flashed across his face, and he quickly stepped in front of the ogre, blocking his path.
"We need information. You can't just kill everyone inside, got it?" Wain stated, his tone firm. Asura sighed deeply, a trace of reluctant acceptance in his voice. "OK, Dad. I won't kill them." Without another word, Asura jumped into the tree with effortless agility, climbing its branches as though he'd been born in a forest. When he reached the top, he grabbed hold of the window frame and peered inside.
The room below was cloaked in darkness, with faint light seeping through the cracks in the walls formed by vines and roots that had torn through the decaying structure. The air was thick with dampness, the stench of rot hanging heavy. Four wooden pillars, once sturdy, now stood in a sorry state—hollowed and decayed. It was a miracle they still supported the weight of the building.
In the center of the room, three men stood, exactly as Asura had predicted. Yet this certainty didn't bolster his pride, for scattered around them, the worship area was strewn with corpses. The men wore brown cloaks that concealed their identities, but Asura had no interest in learning more about them. His mind was already set, punishment was overdue.
Before Asura could drop from his perch, the furthest man spoke, kicking the head of a nearby corpse. "What are we waiting for?" he growled, his impatience clear. "We're waiting so we don't get caught," another replied, waving his hand toward the entrance. His voice dropped to a whisper, as if aware of an unseen listener. "Those priests have been prowling, searching for us."
But the first man's frustration only deepened. He jabbed a finger at the one who had stayed silent. "Malachi will have our heads if we show up empty-handed," he snarled. The silent one turned, clearly unamused by the other's outburst. "That nun is supposed to bring us more," he said flatly. "So shut up and wait for her to leave the cathedral." The man crouched down beside a woman's corpse, toying with her black curly hair. "We need—" His voice was cut off as something crashed through the stained glass.
The shards exploded, scattering in all directions like a storm of crystal, reflecting the light and casting colorful patterns across the room. Amidst the falling glass, a figure descended, its feet hitting the ground with a heavy thud. In the shadows, Asura's eyes blazed with fury, his mouth contorting into a beastly snarl, revealing his teeth. "Quit touching her," he growled, his words thick with anger. The sight of the black hair clutched in the man's hand, eerily similar to Lily's, sent a rush of heat through his veins.
The cloaked men froze as their blood turned ice cold. Not one dared to move. Asura's eyes swept the room, and what he saw made his stomach churn. More corpses than he had expected lay everywhere. Some were draped over pews, others piled in grotesque heaps, and a few hung lifeless from the rafters. Many were burned, their bodies dried and desiccated like failed sacrifices.
Each body was drained of every drop of blood, now useless to the cultists. They had become nothing more than discarded trash, left behind for later disposal. Once, they had been people. People with lives, families, and dreams. Now, they were just the victims of greed and malice, slaughtered by their own kind for vile purposes.
The three cultists stared in stunned silence, struggling to process the monstrous figure before them. Finally, the closer one spoke. "Are you the monster we summoned?" He took a step forward. "What is your name?" He asked."It must be! Why else would a monster be here?" The farthest cultist, his voice tinged with excitement, answered quickly.
The silent cultist slapped his palm to his forehead, frustration rising. "Shut up," he snapped, his voice tinged with panic. "Of course, he isn't one of you, you dimwits." He threw his hand forward, pointing at the figure's attire. "Look at his clothes—Judex Divinum's symbol is on them." Beneath the cloak, he furrowed his brow, his eyes darkened with disgust. "But why is a demon helping God?"
Asura glanced behind him, searching for any sign of Wain, but found none. He must be looking for another way in. He thought as a wicked grin spread across his face.
"Now, look here, guys," he began, his tone dripping with mockery. "We can be friends, right? It's not like you're horrible, terrible, appalling, disgusting individuals who would sacrifice children, right?" His face lapsed into a dead stare. "Not the kind of people to use lives as playthings for selfish desires. Certainly not the kind of people I should gut and feed to the wolves."
The farthest cultists blinked, confused. "What?" He asked, looking to his comrades. They refused to answer. "Where's Malachi?" Asura asked, his voice low, dangerous. The three cultists froze, their eyes wide with fear as they stared at the ogre before them. Asura's white eyes were cold as they stared from the shadows. He didn't blink, look away, or take a single step forward—he stood frozen, motionless, like a statue carved from darkness. Not even the rise of his chest could be perceived. The three cultists stood rooted to the spot, the realization clear in their minds. Any movement, and were dead.
"You seem wiser of the three." Asura's eyes shifted to the cultist on the right, but his body remained as still as stone. "Smart enough to recognize the symbol of Judex Divinum. Still stupid, but wiser." He let out a soft, disdainful chuckle. "I'll tell you why I'm with the priests." The ogre's voice carried a regal weight as if he were a king delivering his judgment.
"I despise those who harm the innocent, who can't defend themselves." Asura took a step. "I despise those who defile sacred spaces built to honor the creator." Then another. "I despise those who use cowardly tactics, willing to do anything to win." Asura's eyes glowed even brighter, the intensity of the light piercing through the gloom like twin stars burning in the dark.
"You and those like you would strangle a pup just brought into the world if it meant you could get your hands on the wolf." Asura stood at the edge of the shadow, yet his figure remained hidden. "I've lived in the world you dream of creating." He spoke, recalling the realms of monster. "It rots the mind and devours everyone. There are no winners. No purpose. Just destruction." He spat.
Asura paused, the weight of his words pressing down on the cultists like a physical force. The air around them felt thick, suffocating, as if the very atmosphere was drawing the life from their lungs. They could barely stand under the oppressive gaze of the ogre, whose silhouette loomed like a shadow against the light. His eyes, glowing with an almost unnatural intensity, locked onto theirs with unblinking focus.
"And another thing," Asura continued, his voice low and full of venom. "I don't know why humans keep callin' me a demon. That's a title not even Judex Divinum would give to us. It's a crown fit only for the vermin who plague the world with their existence." He looked down upon the three. "The tormentors. The ones who sow only thorns. You."
Before the cultists could respond, Asura moved with terrifying speed, launching himself at one of them. The man who toyed with the corpse's hair barely had time to react before he was hoisted into the air by the ankle and slammed to the ground. The sound of cracking bones echoed through the room as the cultist gasped for air, blood spilling from his mouth.
Then, the ogre released him, letting his twitching body fall to the floor with a sickening thud. The remaining two cultists trembled, staring in horror at their dead companion. Desperation overtook them as they fell to their knees, pleading for mercy. "I'm sorry-" They sobbed before their judge.
Asura sighed, shaking his head in disgust as he grabbed one of them by the neck, lifting him off the ground effortlessly. "What a boring fight." He sighed. "You slaughter. You murder your own kind, but you beg for mercy when it's your turn." His grip tightened, his voice growing colder. "I fuck around a lot, but I can't show mercy to people like you. Rats who need their necks broken."
The cultist's eyes filled with tears, his voice a broken whisper. "Spare… me… please." Asura's gaze hardened. "I bet all these people begged just like you." He gestured to the corpses. "To show mercy would be to spite the dead."
Just as Asura was about to close his hand, a loud crash interrupted. A large wolf burst through a back door, its smoky form unmistakable. Wain. Asura let out an exasperated sigh, knowing his fun had come to an end. The overwhelming stench of death hit Wain first, his face contorting in disgust as his nose crinkled in revulsion. He quickly spotted the familiar brown robe of a dead cultist lying near Asura's feet. "I thought you said no killing?" Wain asked, raising an eyebrow.
Asura shrugged, a wry grin on his face. "He was totally like that before I got here. I walked in, and boom, there he was!" The ogre shrugged. "Wild, right?" He asked humurously. However, Wain's narrowed eyes spoke volumes of his displeasure. "Ah, screw it," Asura muttered, gesturing around the church. "What else was I supposed to do? Look at this mess."
The cultist gasped as the ogre released his grasp, his body thumping against the floor. Before Wain could react, the man scrambled to his feet, bolting toward the church's rear, his accomplice stumbling after him, legs trembling. They burst through the back door, past a dumbfounded Wain. "Did you just let them go?" Wain demanded, incredulous. "Seriously?"
"Well, you seemed pretty angry when you came in," Asura said with a shrug. Wain scoffed, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "What is wrong with you?" He asked with a shake of his head. "A lot," Asura replied casually, shrugging once more. The careless gesture only served to irritate Wain further. "Too much, honestly," Asura added, his tone almost dismissive.
Tension thickened in the air, and Wain's lips twitched as he struggled to find his words. "Really, dude..." He managed, his tone filled with disbelief. "I'll go get them," Asura replied with a sly grin. "Don't worry, they can't get far with the piss running down their legs."
Despite Asura's assurance, Wain didn't hesitate. He quickly retrieved the already-lit herb of creation, its faint smoke curling in the air. Asura watched intently as Wain inhaled the remaining wisps, then exhaled a thick, swirling cloud. The fading wolf, its form barely hanging on, was reborn within the mist, its life extended. With no need for command, the creature shot forward, instantly following the cultists through the back door.
"That is rad!"Asura stated, his eyes filled with childish joy. "So, cool every time I see it!" Wain didn't answer, though he wanted to. Asura's words, tone, and nonverbal cues unsettled him as they chased after the wolf and the cultists. There was something off about Asura, he thought, having caught a fragment of his conversation with the cultists earlier. Was Asura faking it, or had he gone mad?
The chase led them through the back door, where Wain heard a man's cry followed by a wolf's vicious snarl. He turned quickly to his right, seeing the wolf latched onto the cultist's leg, thrashing as the man fought to break free. Thank God the wolf caught him... If they'd gotten away, I'd never hear the end of it. However, far in the distance, Wain spotted a flutter of brown cloth. One of the cultists was trying to climb over a fence, yards away.
"Damn it! He's getting away!" Wain cursed under his breath. "If he warns Malachi, this will all be pointless..." Suddenly, a small rock flew past Wain's head. "What the—?" Wain turned, watching as the rock sailed through the air like a baseball, striking the cultist in the back of the head. The man crumpled forward, tumbling over the fence and onto the grass. Wain waited as he approached, but the cultist didn't rise.
Asura laughed, a smug grin plastered on his face as he breezed past. Without a word, he walked towards the bodies, ready to collect his prize. A sight that made Wain sigh. "How come I'm stuck with you?" he grumbled. Asura didn't miss a beat. He paused just long enough to throw Wain a playful smile over his shoulder. "You know you love me. I make things interesting."
Wain let out a groan, rubbing his temples in frustration. "That's exactly why I hate you." As they approached, Asura bent down, grabbing the ankles of the cultists and dragging them toward their inevitable fate. The conscious one screamed in agony as the wolf continued to gnaw on his leg. He swiped desperately at the creature, trying to break free. "Stop it! Agh! Please, stop him!"
The wolf's master waved his hand dismissively, and the wolf's form dissipated, its essence swept away by the wind. The ogre leaned over the cultist with a joyful grin, watching the man's helpless writhing. "Keep making noise, and you'll end up just like your friend in the church." The cultist froze, his fear overwhelming his pain at the mention of his possible fate.
Asura nudged Wain, seeking a silent nod of approval. "We've got two left. If we need to, we can kill one if the other doesn't talk." Wain sighed in disgust, shaking his head at Asura's cold rationale. He wasn't sure which disgusted him more, the situation or the ogre beside him. Back at the church, Asura propped the two men against the corpses slumped on a nearby pew. The one clutching his leg glared at them, defiant despite his pain. "If you think I'll give you Malachi's location, bite me," he spat.
"What do you think?" Asura glanced at Wain, gesturing to the corpses. "He won't talk, and he killed these people." The ogre pressed. "We don't need him. The other one will talk, right?" Asura pointed at the cultist's comrade. "The other guy was crying earlier to be saved." Wain scanned the room, his eyes lingering on the bodies that had once been living, breathing people just like him. He couldn't fathom how the men before him could do this.
With a sharp motion, he waved his hand in approval as if ashamed to agree. Asura immediately responded, seizing the man's shoulder and arm in one swift move. Then, with his four arms, he dislocated it with a sickening pop. The cultist screamed, his cries cutting through the silence of the church. "Aghhh! I... I won't talk!" the cultist screamed, his voice raw with defiance.
Asura's eyes narrowed, a flash of irritation crossing his face as he took a step closer. "Don't you have that truth incantation or something?" he demanded, his voice laced with annoyance. "Can't you just use it on him?" He asked as the man gripped his arm, writhing in agony. "I can't use it," Wain answered, disgust twisting his face. "Just kill him like you said you would. Don't torture the man." He shivered as he turned away. Asura ignored Wain's disapproving gaze and snapped, "Why not? You've got those damn coins, right?" The cultist groaned, pain evident in his voice. "Fuck, it hurts! Aghhh!"
"The coins don't have enough mana to bind his soul," Wain replied, his voice steady yet firm. "It's not going to work." He sighed, glancing down at his phone for a moment. "I texted Mel earlier. She's on her way. We'll have her take care of it when she gets here." The cultist screamed again, unable to bear the pain.
Asura's patience was wearing thin. "Ugh, no time for this." The ogre struck the man with his foot to silence him. "I don't want to waste any more of it with these filthy rats." The unconscious cultist jolted awake at the sound of his companion's screams. He groggily gripped the pew, his eyes wide and panicked as he tried to make sense of his surroundings. "What's—" he mumbled, his voice shaky.
"Oh, good morning, Sleeping Beauty!" Asura said, his grin wide and unnervingly cheerful. The barely conscious cultist's eyes widened in terror as he watched Asura drive his fist into the chest of the wounded cultist, killing him instantly. His breath caught in his throat, and his heart pounded in his chest. He couldn't tear his gaze away as his comrade's body crumpled. "I'll talk! I swear, I'll talk!" he pleaded, his voice shaking with fear.
Asura stared at him for a moment, his expression unreadable. After a beat, he leaned in closer, his voice low and menacing. "Go on then." Wain crouched down in front of the terrified cultist, his gaze sharp and intense. "Where's Malachi going to try summoning Jörmungandr next?" His voice was calm.
"He plans on summoning it in Stoliagate City, where the Arc-Knight resides." He stammered, tripping over his own words. "He wants to destroy the main cathedral and kill the Arch-Knight." The cultist's eyes whipped between the two. "Why target the main cathedral?" Wain asked, frowning. "The Arch-Knight's there. She's the only one who could stand against the Apocalypse." Wain stated as he studied the man's face. "That seems… foolish."
The cultist let out a dry laugh, his voice laced with disdain. "It won't matter how strong the Arch-Knight is." He mocked. "Unless he is the Knight of God himself, it'll be too late." The cultist slumped against the corpses, his eyes flickering with a sudden, unnatural shift. His voice, now distant and chilling, cut through the air. "You hide behind your so-called righteous, Judex Divinum. What will you do now that he has abandoned you?" Wain's spine shivered at the cultist's change in tone.
"What do you mean too late?" He asked. The cultist's gaze darted to Asura, where he saw a terrifying eagerness reflected in the monster's eyes, his fists clenched and pounding in anticipation. However, his eyes held no panic, only amusement, as if he found the sight oddly entertaining. "Jormungandr wants to kill the Paladins, priests, and the citizens. By then, he will be strong enough to rival even the monster kings." The cultist chuckled. "Not even your God could help you then."
Wain's face twisted at the thought. "Where's Malachi?" He asked. Seeing the two lower their guard, the cultist seized the opportunity to flee. He sprang from the pew, darting around the ogre in a desperate attempt to escape. But Asura made no move to chase him. Instead, he grabbed the heavy pew, tossing the bodies aside as he hoisted it into the air. With a swift, powerful throw, the pew crashed into the cultist's back, pinning him beneath the weight of the massive wooden frame.
Wain watched as the man collapsed under the weight of the pew. "He dead," Asura shouted as he smiled proudly. "Was that necessary?" Wain asked, his head shaking in disapproval. "Were we even considering letting him live after all this?" Asura replied as he gestured toward the crowd of the dead. However, neither had debated the thought. "How do we know he didn't lie?" Wain asked, eyeing the cultist's lifeless body.
"I can tell he was truthful," Asura replied with certainty, which prompted Wain to raise his brow. "What do you mean?" He asked, his voice laced with confusion. Asura's eyes lingered on the cultist's body as he answered. "His heartbeat didn't change significantly. When humans lie under pressure, it spikes." Wain blinked, surprised. "You can hear our heartbeat?" Can he hear mine now? he thought, conscious of the beat of his heart. "Every beat," Asura confirmed without a hint of hesitation.
That's creepy and concerning… Wain muttered, trying to shake the thought from his mind as he pulled out his phone. With a quick dial, he called Mel and turned his back to Asura, relaying a brief recap of the conversation with the cultists. Meanwhile, Asura amused himself by poking at the corpses, clearly uninterested in the adults' conversation. Frustrated, Asura muttered under his breath, "Why can't you be stronger? I want a good fight, damn it."
Behind Asura, Wain sighed as he finished his call. "Mel wants us to regroup at the Cathedral. We need to report everything to the captain." He groaned, knowing that another report would be due. However, Asura's eyes immediately lit up, his energy shifting from restless to excited. "Can we fight there? You've gotten good with your smoky crap." His grin widened. "Let's fight."
He pumped his fists, eager for the action, his anticipation practically crackling in the air. But Wain only shook his head, dismissing the idea with a tired sigh. "We have other things to focus on. We need to report first, then head straight to the main cathedral."
Asura deflated, his excitement dashed once again. He grumbled in frustration, confirming the deaths of the cultists as they left the church behind. As the church faded in the distance, Wain found it a shame to leave such a sacred place in disarray, but the urgency of the situation outweighed his qualms. If the cultists' information was accurate, the main cathedral and countless lives were in imminent danger. Time was of the essence.
The two arrived at the Cathedral and rushed inside, heading straight for the old man's office. To Asura's surprise, Mel and Ash were there, deep in discussion about the situation. Wain, slightly winded, came to a halt in front of the door. "Hold on... hold on... Give me a second." He gasped, trying to catch his breath. Asura looked at him, then turned to the old man, ready to speak. But before he could, the old man didn't even glance his way. "Hey! I was there too, you know. I can tell you what happened." The old man raised an eyebrow at the eager ogre. "Since you're so eager, go ahead. Educate us on what happened." The old man leaned back in his chair, settling in for whatever Asura had to say. "So this big snake dude-"
Before Asura could continue, Wain, now catching his breath, stepped forward to report. "Jormungandr is going to be summoned in Stoligate City. He wants to kill as many as he can and cripple the cathedral's paladins." Wain gasped, collecting another breath of air. "If he kills enough, it'll be too late for the Arch-Knight to stop him before she arrives." Asura sat back as everyone's face registered the news. Wain stole my thunder… he thought in disbelief.
The old man nodded slowly, his eyes flickering as if calculating a complex equation. "Your next assignment is to proceed to the cathedral and prevent the ritual's completion." He paused, the weight of his words settling in the silence. "Traveling by foot or vehicle would take too long. You'll need Wain to transport you." His gaze shifted to Wain, a silent command in his eyes.
"Once you arrive, report directly to the paladins stationed there." He commanded, his brow furrowing, a flicker of frustration crossing his features. "It appears Malachi is aware of the Arch-Knight's absence. We may have traitors within our ranks." The weight of the accusation lingered in the air, casting a tense silence over the humans present. "Be careful who you tell." His eyes drifted from Mel to Wain and then Ash.
Asura stood there, eyes narrowing in confusion as the old man began to dismiss them. "If it's so urgent, why aren't you coming with us?" he asked, his tone laced with curiosity. He paused for a moment, then smirked. "That punch you hit me with would make Jormungandr cry." The old man glanced at him, his gaze unreadable. He rose from his seat slowly, the creak of the chair echoing in the quiet room. "I need to stay here to ensure Malachi isn't planning anything else." His voice was firm, but there was a hint of weariness in his eyes.
"It's strange that he would be so active in a small town for so long, then change locations. If the cultist lied, then maybe Jormungandr is being summoned here, and someone needs to be prepared." He stepped forward slightly, the weight of his words sinking in. The old man nodded slowly, his eyes flickering to the window as if contemplating the distance. "I can handle the situation alone if it arises. With the paladins and you all there, I'm confident it'll be manageable." His voice softened, but there was an underlying authority in it. "Lydia will take charge while Mary is away."
"Obviously, obviously…" Asura nodded slowly, not quite convinced but understanding the logic. "Just wanted to make sure you knew why you were staying behind. Though... you're pretty confident about taking on an Apocalypse-level threat by yourself." The ogre's eyes flashed with a moment of concern. "That's risky, you know."
The old man glared at him, choosing to ignore Asura's comment. "Grab whatever you need and go before it's too late." Mel, Ash, and Wain dashed out of the room, rushing to gather their gear for the upcoming fight. In mere seconds, they were gone, leaving Asura standing alone with the old man. The awkward silence settled in, making Asura shift uncomfortably. He had no belongings to collect, no reason to leave, so he just stood there, unsure of what to do. "I should totally grab... something I own. That I have somewhere. On my bed," he muttered, half to himself.
The old man's voice broke the silence, sharp and commanding. "Now is the time you prove your worth, Asura." His eyes locked with Asura's. The look in the old man's eyes was intense, almost pleading, silently urging Asura to take this seriously for once. The weight of the moment pressed on him, and Asura understood. This is no longer a game. Lives were at stake, and failure meant death for everyone.
He nodded, his expression tightening with resolve. After offering a final salute to the old man, Asura shut the door with purpose and called out, his voice filled with determination, "I won't let you down, old man." A playful smile tugged at the corners of his lips, one that, for reasons unknown, seemed to reassure the old man.