Reader discretion: This chapter contains descriptive images of gore.
Believer; a person who believes that a specified thing is effective, proper, or desirable.
A strange sensation rippled through his spine. The moment he took a step out on the creaky wooden boards of the floor, he felt a curious feeling arise within him. The sound of the familiar creak echoed in his mind. It brought sentiments he had buried so far in the back of his mind back to life. He fixated on the dessert in his hands the Old Hag had given him before he had left. A pink Daifuku lay on the palm of his hands. The smell returned memories he had not relieved in a long time.
He recalled her words earlier.
"I have nothing else to give to you." She said solemnly while handing him the daifuku. His eyes gleamed at the sight of the daifuku. He had not eaten this dessert in a while, such delicacies were not found in Konet.
He took the daifuku in his hands, "ーIt's…" He stopped the words from spilling out of his mouth. "I'll have this thrown out later." He nonchalantly said, and turned on his heel to leave, but before he could take a step out of the door the sound of the old hags voice interrupted him.
"It's fine. I'll eat anything you make Grandma.ー" She paused. "ーThat is what the little boy always said to me." The gentleness of her voice shows that she truly held onto the meaning of boys' words.
"That boy is foolish. He knows no bounds of the horrors this world holds…" He paused, and in a scornful tone said. "He will die quickly."
She stared at him in remorse. Her eyes crinkled in a sort of soft manner. "You are right… He had died during the winter in another country. He was so sheltered he had not known the dangers he was up against. Surely that is what led to his demise." She added.
He stayed silent. The apathetic look in his eyes was indiscernible. "Anybody who has lived a life like that is truly pathetic. It was only his debt being delivered unto him." He sneered, and slammed the door behind him.
Now he stood in front of the door, and silently thought to himself.
People who think as such will not survive in this world. In the end, everyone's ashes will be poured back unto the world. Returning to where it once came, from ash until they could once soar through the sky.
He walked away. Only the vibrating sound of rocks pushing against one another as each step was taken permeated the silence left with him. He hated having to fulfill missions such as these. Only problematic obstacles came his way.
He sighed, only hoping that this mission could end much quicker, because this was what exactly he had feared the most to happen.
Sychar arrived back at the hotel. He made his way to his room, completely ignoring the petrified stares of the hotel staff when he passed. Once he approached the door, he slammed it open with full force. Causing an echo throughout the hallway. He slowly walked to his bed, not minding of the fact there was still dried out blood on the hem of his shirt. He delicately placed the Daifuku onto his bedside, handling it with so much care, one would think it had been made out of glass. He sighed, the day had been more hectic than he had anticipated. He drowned himself in the comfort of his soft mattress. Perhaps, he should request a week's notice from the empress…
.
.
July 23, Shidekobushi Hotel
He woke up slightly disoriented. It was morning by then, the sun was shining directly in his face. He didn't realize he had fallen asleep so quickly. He was much more tired than he anticipated. He sat up, momentarily wondering if he should even leave his bed. Finding the thought of staying in bed all day, and not moving is a much more relaxing idea. Then the sound of knocking resonated through his room.
"General." A familiar voice quietly said. Sychar stared mindlessly at the door, still disoriented from what had happened last night. He stood up, making his way to the mirror nearby.
"I have a meeting to attend later today." He combed through his hair, taking a good look at any misplaced strand in his locks. Then comb them out thoroughly.
"Now? Then, that means you are attending a meeting with one of the four clansー" They paused. "ーWe just declared wa-!"
"Yeah. So?" Sychar quickly cut him off. He took the letter left on the table, and stuffed it into his pocket.
"Sir! Both of us will be in a bind if any problem arises."
"I'll take care of it." He calmly said, as he opened the door. Taking note of the disheveled maroon hair of the attendant.
He stared down the attendant with disdain. "You should comb your hair. I do not want to be remotely near a bird's nest. It is more humiliating to me, than it is to you."
The attendant only sighed, as they made their way back to their room. Sychar only rolled his eyes, and left for the dining hall. Everyone burned their deathly glares towards him. Eyes on him, everywhere, and everything. His maneuvers were discreetly watched. Even the smallest flick of his wrist, and the slow steps of his feet dragging along the maroon carpet. Now, his current dilemma was how to step out of the vigilant eyes of the people around him.
He walked along the walls of the marbled dining hall. He noticed that it was time for drinks to be served, sparkling champagne served on wine glasses, and the maids were handing them out to the guests on a golden tray. He skillfully took a glass from one of the maids trays, and walked away.
His steps caused the carpet beneath him to form wrinkles, and slight hills had been formed, if somebody was too careless, they could easily slip and fall. But he gave it no mind. His hands touch the wall's smooth texture as he moves along the room. Taking note of a rough surface he felt. Then, he made his seat diligently at the far most corner of the room.
Being served a plate of delicacies, then he took the fork in his hands, and started eating. He enjoyed the meal in silence, and then halfway through his meal, his eyes made their way to a maid carrying a tray of drinks to be served to guests, her steps were wobbly as she approached the entrance of the door.
Shatter!
He grinned as the sound permeated through the silent dining hall, causing everyone's attention to be directed to the fallen maid, and the thousands of shattered glasses surrounding her.
The butler had his attention taken off what he was doing, and maids started ushering the tripped maid outside, as the other staff cleaned up the clutter on the floor, he noticed something was amiss. He realized earlier, everyone's attention was solely on the maid. Which left a window of opportunity. An opportunity that would be used wisely if one had thought so far ahead.
The more he surveyed his surroundings, the more he sawー he noticed the small wrinkles in the carpet where the maid had fallen, and the peculiar place Sychar had chosen to sit. Because the table was right in front of the hidden emergency exit, one that wasn't known to the guests. Only somebody as insane as him would be able to pull off a plot comparable to this.
.
.
.
Shit. His eyes quickly returned to Sychar, and he was gone. It was as if he had never been there. He then realized the hidden emergency exit door was slightly swaying in its place. The food was left untouched, as the cutlery was placed beside the plate.
Fuck. He was deceived. Suddenly the doors burst open, revealing the attendant in disarray. The attendant looked around, and saw that the general was nowhere to be seen. Unknowingly he asked,
"Where is the General?"
…
Sychar stood outside of the hotel, taking a sip of the sparkling champagne he took. He let go of it as he finished the drink. Leaving it shattered. He took out the crumpled letter left in his pocket, and looked for the address etched on its paper. Yet only seeing a cryptic code left on the bottom right of the page.
'Meet to where many seek shelter from the sun, high up to the heavens they sought. There lies beneath a man named Ira. Tell the lords that 'I wish to have an audience with Ira.' Then, will your fate be sealed.'
What a stupid fucking message. This cryptic message could easily be decoded by a child. Ira was a famous mountain in Jiyuu. He was also sure that numerous guards had patrolled the area for safekeeping. Now, all he had to do was go to the mountain, say the stupid message and go to the meeting. Gosh, this was one of the most humiliating tasks he had ever done. Did they really have to be so dramatic? In Konet it was looked down upon doing these 'secretive' tasks as people value efficiency. There was no need to be lucrative.
He'd rather them be upfront with him. It was as if they were testing him. Playing a gameー Just to get a reaction out of him. It irked him that they knew no bounds of their place. He didn't like animals who choose to taunt their prey. They believe, and underestimate others, but overestimate their own worth.
Well, if that is what they believe is his capabilities, then let them believe. Only fools blindly become believers. They forget where they placed themselves. They leave themselves entrapped in the cage they had placed so much faith in, but non-believers soar to the skies as they know no bounds. They don't believe something finite, they know this world is limitless, with possibilities. He was once a believer, believing if he stayed in his place. He would be freedー perhaps even chosen, yet he had never received what he had wished for. Now, he was free without the constraints of faith or belief.
The only thing to leave him be with the silence, was the unending noise of his trailing footsteps. He sighed,
'Would there even be dust or bones left of him once his debt was to be delivered?'
Though, he would not want to know the answer. He felt as if, what would be the deliverance of his doing would mutilate his heartー Once, that he had.
He hadn't realized it but from his incessant thinking he had finally made it to the mountain. There it stood in all of its beauty was the mountain Ira. Many tourists flocked to here so he deliberately took a route where many would not be there. He approached a guard with the Seiji badge on his uniform.
"I wish to have an audience with Ira." He bluntly said. The guard wordlessly moved, and gestured for him to come along. He silently followed, making his way through the plains of trees, and from a distance he could see a hut in the distance.
Wow, how smart. He must applaud them for their discreteness. He mused to himself sarcastically. As he entered the hut, the once shabby looking exterior turned into a grandeur interior once he entered. A maid stood there at the front door, and guided him to the meeting room. The hut was much larger than it let on, and the interior design was decked out in riches. His footsteps echoed through the hall as he stepped inside. He took note of the number of guards patrolling the area.
The door opened, revealing himself amongst a mass of men circling a table. The silence was unbearable as he stood beneath the doorframe, his silhouette hauntingly stood before themー None had tried to greet him, nor welcome him… The clock eerily ticked, as the sound permeated through the room. Noone dared to move, nor speak. That was, until a man hurriedly stood from where he sat, and greeted him formally.
"It is an honor to be in the presence of a General!" He gulped, as he saw the bored look on Sychar's face. "I-I believe the journey here was quite taxing, If there is anything we need to do to attend to your needs we are hereー" His words were momentarily paused as he felt a metal object graze his cheek. He brought his hand up to his cheek, and noticed the blood on his fingertips. Then, before he could respond, Sychar was quick to beat him.
"I do not need your bullshitー Flowery chatter. Your words should be chosen carefully. Lest you want to be at the opposing end of my blade."
"I understand…" He muttered quietly.
"Good, at least you made use of that senseless chatterbox of that mouth of yours." He took a seat on the opposing end of the table, his eyes glaring at the man acrossing him. "I truly despise those who make idle talk over pointless means."
The silence overtook the meeting room, which made Sychar groan out of complete irritation. "Then I believe this meeting will be just as meaningless…" His fingers tapped impatiently on the table. "Do not believe that a few words will ameliorate our coalition. Exhibiting yourself in the candescence veiled of deceit will not bring substance, and I'm not one to be inveigled by a rhetoric speech contrived from half-witted vermins."
"The Seiji clan are nothing but stupid dogs who die to work themselves for a future that will be ruined by imbeciles who have no truth of what the world speaks of."
The meeting fell into a deep silence. Noone dared to speak up.
"If I may speak up, General Sychar!" Sychar's gaze followed to where the voice led. It was a man in his early 20's, he wore a half-priced Hamaka, his Haori seemed to have been worn out from the times he had worn it.
"It is completely unacceptable for you to speak that way to usー" One man pulled on the other's sleeve to stop him from speaking any further, but the other ignored the warnings and kept speaking. "ーAs the operatives for the Seiji clan, all of us had worked hard for the position we hold now!" He then pointed his finger at Sychar. "You do not know the toils we had to overcome…"
His babbling soon turned muffled in Sychar's hearing, some other low ranking officials had the gall to join in the man's babbling. Turning it into a loud crowd protesting against him.
Shut up.
Their words huddled together like a small group of raging insects.
What good is there for people like you?
Monster, they called you!
You have killed the innocent.
'Watch your tone, young man!'
'WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME &¥VJ1?!'
Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill.
Sychar's fingers thrummed on the wooden top of the table. The noise soon became louder, and louder. The patterned sounds slowly lost its rhythm as the thrumming slowly turned erratic as his patience was thinning.
KILL. KILL. KILL. KILL. KILL. KILL. KILL. KILL. KILL. KILL. KILL.
"You do not deserve the title you hold!" He then felt his patience snap like a brittle string. He stood up from where he sat, and saw the terrified look in the man's eyes.
DEATH ONLY EXISTS TO INCITE THE END OF ALL.
HUMAN LIFE IS BUT ONLY A CUSP IN THE PALMS OF DEATH.
DO NOT RUN.
DO NOT.
DO NOT RUN.
RUN.
DO NOT RUN.
DO
ACCEPT!
Though he only looked back impassively. Gods. Don't animals truly enjoy spewing nonsense. He? He didn't deserve the title he held? What a joke. Nobody else, aside from him, was deserving of this position. All of those useless vermin didn't have the power, nor strength to stand where he is now.
He raised his hand. The dagger concealed in the palm of his hands as he drove the dagger into the skull of the man. The faint sound of the dagger's metal colliding into the bones of the man sounded through the room. He screeched out in agony before ultimately collapsing into the sweet embrace of death.
Sychar sighed as his composure returned to him. Only then did he realize that numerous guards surrounded him from where he stood. He mentally berated himself that he had not noticed sooner the attack they had planned on him. The members in the meeting stood shocked in horror from what they had witnessed, and they knew just one wrong step in the man's gaze, and they too could become a mere bug squashed beneath the soles of his shoes.
"Hm, Are you provoking me?" Though his tone was laced with sarcasm, his serious expression indicated he won't hesitate to take drastic measures. Though, they didn't pay any attention to it.
The guards instead raised their weapons against him. "I take that as a yes then." He mumbled something incoherent to himself before he pummeled his fist right into the skull of the man in front of him. The crimson red blood sullied the dark leather gloves he wore.
A massacre is often mistaken as a masquerade.
He brought his hand into the compartment of his leather jacket, revealing a set of daggers he had kept well-hidden in its confines. He stabbed the eyes of the guard behind him. Screwing it so far into the eye socket he had hit the muscle behind the eyeball.
Sychar quickly retracted his blade, and as he was pulling the blade out. The guard screamed in agonizing pain as his optic nerves were slowly being pulled away from his eye socket, little by little, until it had completely snapped. Sychar had fully removed the eyeball from the man's eye socket. The guard screeched in discomfort. It was like a never ending headache of searing pain. There was also the uncomfortable feeling of a missing organ in his body. Just as the guard had thought the worse had been done, he was met face to face with the round organ staring right back at him. As he looked on in horror as his own eyeball was screwn onto the tip of a blade.
It's glossy albeit slimy finish, with the lost spark of life in his pupils. With the pinkish veins creeping in its irises. The gruesome crimson blood coming from the optic nerve spilling all over the floor. In his disorientation he hadn't noticed that he had been speared right into his chest. He black out, and collapsed right into the floor.
Sychar threw the dirty eyeball onto the corpse of the man, and as he turned there was a guard about to pierce right through his heart. But he quickly averted the attack by stepping to the side, causing the man to stumble onto the floor. He heard the unsettling sound of bones crushing as the guard landed on the floor. Before the guard could hoist himself up, Sychar stepped on the man's head. Slightly placing pressure onto his head. The guard could barely breathe, as he felt as if the ground was eating him whole. The excruciating pain of the metal soles of Sychar's boot slowly cracking into his skull.
The pain was slow, and torturous. His teeth were crushing into his own mouth as he was being pushed further into the ground, and he felt his eyeballs rupture, and he wanted to scream, and cry but his teeth were all pushed out of his own gums, leaving him to taste the iron, and rust stemming from the blood pooling in his own mouth. All he felt was the agonizing pain of his body before he heard the unsettling crack of his own skull being crushed.
As soon as he crushed the man's skull Sychar took the dagger in his hands, and sliced through the chest of the man in front of him. The depth of his cut almost had severed into the ribcage. He proceeded to stab another right into the heart of the man, the stab hitting right into a vein which caused the blood to be erratically sprayed everywhere…
Deception is a necessary means to triumph against an inequitable battle.
Soon everything had become a blurry haze in Sychar's mind. He killed anyone who was unfortunate enough to be in his line of sight. This was a regular occurrence in his line of work. He had to get rid of insects that stood in his way. Nothing had phased him at that point. In contrastー He found it thrilling. There was nothing more enjoyable than observing one's face contort into one of agony.
He watched as the low-ranking officials' faces twisted in agony as they screamed in terror as they watched their own body be sullied into crimson red. It intrigued him to see such expressions on faces. He never understood what it meant to die- Only the spiritual aspect of it at least, because he very well knew what death looks like.
It was their gnarled expressions accompanied with their blood curdling screams. While their lifeless eyes darted away as if to escape the bare hands of death. The smell of its rotting body, and the unmoving limbs hanging uselessly on the corpse. That was death.
But then why do others still ponder on the meaning of death? Was it the thoughts, feelings, and emotions in death? These are the integral of all living things, so, what could its use be in death? Death is the end of all living things. To return to where it had once come. Forcing ideals of life into death would be futile. Then, why do humans still choose to wonder about what could be the final thoughts, feelings, and emotions of a person before death?
Would their final thoughts be their family? Whether it'd be the family they had created, or the family they had. Perhaps, it was the unfulfilled ambitions they had never accomplished. Regrets, mayhaps. Their happiest moments? or was it when they were at their lowest?
He couldn't imagine what his final thoughts would beー Maybe it would be about the Daifuku left laying on the top of his bedside table. Yes, those would be suitable thoughts for his final moments. After all, he wouldn't indulge himself in such human rumination. It wouldn't suit his character at all…
He only sighed as the last of the remaining were killed under his hand.
'To submit themselves to destinyー To death be delivered.'
He panted, his breathing was slightly erratic. His violet locks stuck to his forehead due to his sweat. He felt his hands numbing from his tight hold on the dagger. His eyes darted across the room as he felt a wave of lightheadedness wash over him. It had been quite long since he had such a careless outburst. He could almost feel his knees buckling down on him from the strain, but as he looked down beneath his feet, only then did he realize the mountains of corpses that had accumulated in the room.
This all had occurred in mere minutes.
He was undeniably, and absolutely insane. Nobody in their right mind would commit such egregious, and atrocious acts against humanity. It was hard that he was still consideredー By the laws of nature, human. Though, it could be said the only thing remotely human about him was his physique.
Perhaps, he did go slightly overboard today.
The very few people who were spared from Sychar's bloodbath stood shaken in horror. The piles of corpses lay on the floor, the terrible stench of rust filled the room. All of their eyes were bloodshot open, leaving an unsettling feeling once you had gazed up on them. Their open wounds spilled out onto the floor. Even some with injuries so deep that you could see the muscles beneath the skin. It sporadically twitched at times. Though, the muscle's were elegantly draped over a lining of blood pooling from their wounds. One even had a decapitated head, and the official swore he could see the bones connecting the head to his neck.
The survivor's started vomiting on the floor from the gruesome scene. While others had already passed out. The once pure white elegantly decorated, and wellkept room was stained with the crimson.
It was eerily quiet. Noone dared to make an effort to make a soundー Fearing that they will be next to be a part of the many.
That was until the door of the room creaked open as manー Not seemed to be older than 25 stepped into the room. He smiled charmingly, his golden eyes shone under the light. His ashy light green hair cascaded far down his back which was neatly tied into a ponytail. With his white garments contrasting to the crimson red room he was standing in. His expression nearly faltered seeing the state of the room. The man could smell the stench of corpses, akin to rotting fish. His smile barely reached his eyes. A sort of smile that was void from emotions graced his features.
The man carefully made his way to Sychar standing at the end of the table, trying not to step on the corpses of his fellow men. Sychar's chilling smile caused his steps to falter, and turn rigid with each step he took further.
He took his hand out to shake hands with him, but Sychar averted his handshake, and instead crossed his arms. Signaling he didn't want to. Causing the man to stare at him with slight disdain in his eyes. His facade faltered, as his smile lost the charm he had acquitted. Only a selfishly false smile danced around his face.
The two stared down at each other for a few seconds before the man spoke up. "Greeting, General Sychar. I am glad to have made your acquaintance."
"Acquaintance?" Sychar asked with a hint of ire laced in the tone of his voice.
"Well, I was under the impression I was an acquaintance now that we have met."
"I don't even know your name. What a bold assumption you made."
"Then… I apologize General. I should have started with that then?ー"
He cut the man off quickly. "No. It is too late for first impressions." Sychar stared straight in the man's eyes. The other man's golden eyes gazed with lingering caution. "Instead, I have a question for you."
Before the man could respond, Sychar interrupted him, again. "Are you a child of the Seiji clan?"
The question had quickly caught him off guard, but he replied quickly. "Yes, I am The youngest of the 7 Seiji blooms."
Sychar started maniacally laughing, and its sound reverberated through the eerily silent room. "Ah. Yes. The illustrious Seiji bloom! A dazzling bud waiting to bloom, as well as the pride, and heart of the Seiji clan... Shirame Seiji, was it?"
"... You are correct." Shirame replied with uncertainty laced in his voice. The once charming, and dazzling man that approached him had shifted in his demeanor. And, now Shirame stared at him with daggers. Though his lips were formed into a forced smile. His golden eyes glistened with a lurking bitterness.
"Well, the eyes do not lie do they?" Sychar smiled at him. Though his smile was bleak, and apathetic. His eyes showed a hint of genuinity. "A colleague of mine says that a charming smile is just decoration for a person's appearanceー While the eyes tell the tale to be told."
"How… Insightful your colleague must be."
"Oh, she is. Perhaps, even a bit too inquisitive in certain aspects." Sychar stepped closer towards him, and held his chin. Causing Shirame to jump back in surprise.
"Hm… I'm sure she would love to make you one of her dolls." Shirame quickly stepped back, and awkwardly chuckled while he dusted himself off. "I sadly would have to decline the offer."
"What a pity." He feigned disappointment. "I'm sure you would've been a great addition to her collection." Sychar added, and Shirame realized that the conversation was going nowhere. If he was to keep this up, Sychar could easily escape right under his nose. And it was irritating him how Sychar kept talking incessantly about the most useless of things.
He looked at him with a serious expression. "Let us cut the small talk, shall we? I believe we have a few issues needing to be addressed. Hm?" Shirame said with a serious, and cold tone, his once charming smile no longer danced across the features of his face. The remaining people left in the room were startled to see the, usually, gleaming Shirame in such an Austere mien.
Sychar stayed silent, pondering carefully his next chosen words. "I was giving your servants a… Let's sayー Punishment for their doings. Haha!" He chuckled, his gaze following Shirame's to see how he would react. His emerald eyes glowed in an uncharacteristic gleam, its candescence revealing the vile, malicious string of thoughts, and lies that lay dormant in Sychar's mind. It disgusted Shirame, he had never met a man so inhumane.
"And what pray tell had they done to you, for you to castigate my own servants." His voice had slightly raised, which satisfied Sychar enough as he had gotten the reaction he wanted from him. Sychar now took a step back, being far more formal, and polite than he was earlier.
"Let's talk about it in private. Shall we?" He gestured to the pillar behind him. It may seem strange, but Shirame knew that there was a hidden room just behind that pillar. Shirame wasn't even sure how Sychar had so quickly ascertained that a hidden room was inside here. Nobodyー Not even the officials knew of the room. It was created when there came a time for an emergency. That is why it was so well hidden. Just… How frightening was this man?
The two stepped into the room. The room was relatively plain, only two white couches facing each other with a coffee table in the middle. Sychar casually sat on the opposite end of the couch, as Shirame took a seat on the other.
"I guess you want answers then, huh…" Sychar said with a bored look on his face, his arm layed on the top of the couch as he made no effort to fix his posture. "We both know why this meeting was set up in the first place."
Shirame lowered his gaze. "Are you not going to question what I did to the officials, and the guards?"
He shook his head. "No. I want to speak to you about matters concerning the relationship between Konet, and the Seiji clan. The other topic at hand has no relevance at the moment. There will be no use in dwelling on commoners."
"Oh?" He said with a hint of genuine surprise. "Well finally somebody has decided to put their foot down." He turned to finally face Shirame.
Then, Shirame noticed the absent light in his eyes. His green eyes were strangely familiar to him, though he couldn't place where he had seen those eyes before. It reminded him of someone he knew long ago, perhaps somebody he had only met once? Shirame found his thoughts wandering off, but quickly willed himself to return to the conversation.
"The Seiji clan wants to form friendly relations with Konet for safety, and security. With the pactー" Sychar quickly interrupted him with a serious tone of voice.
"Let us disregard the pact for now. If Seiji wants to form friendly relations, without the pact, Then what? What will the Seiji clan be willing to offer for our hand?"
Shirame took a deep breath, he had prepared answers. He couldn't mess this up. "The Seiji clan has influence across Jiyuu, with this it can be useful to your reputation here."
"You do realize the Seiji clan has not much to offer to us, yes?"
Oh. Fuck. Sychar read right through him. It was true, the Seiji clan was significantly weaker, and less powerful than Konet. It was hard to admit, but perhaps even Sychar had a larger influence than the Seiji clan. What could their clan even offer that will be substantial in their eyes? It was a fucking sick joke.
"Wellー" Again, he was cut off before he could speak.
"Konet's reputation far exceeds the seas and lands, farther than what the Seiji clan can offer. Even I, myself, is well known across foreign nations just for being Konet's official envoy." Right, that proves his point. Compared to Sychar, not even the Seiji clan amounted to anything. Shirame kept his composure, trying not to cause an outburst.
Sychar spoke up again. "So tell me, do you think this will truly go farther than what is far exceeding your capabilities? Let me be truthful to you, Konet does not see the significance in the Seiji clan. My envoys have met a few of you, and their reports do not yield great results. In Konet's eyes, all are mere vermin."
Shirame parted his mouth, trying to say something. Anything. To try and uphold his family's dignity. That was until his brother's name was mentioned
"And, I know of your older brother. Shuji, his name. Was it? What a foolish little fella isn't he? Taking every word that my useless envoys say as if it's the word of the Lord, Haha!" Seeing Sychar laugh so casually in front made him livid. He wanted to plummet his fist into Sychar's face, and see the satisfying blood run down his face. But, as long as he was tied down to the Seiji clan as their golden child, what he wished for was just a dream.
"Brother isー" He gritted his teeth in annoyance, but still kept up the smiling facade. "ーHe is a person that believes the words spilt out of the mouths of fools who speak of fabricated lies, and tales."
"So, do you think believers are fools in their ways?"
"Only those who blindly believe are." He stared at Sychar, his once charming veil had fallen. Now revealing the monster that revels in it. His eyes shone under the light, yet lingered with animosity. "They know nothing of the expanse of the great sky. They'd rather be perched up a branch, whilst whistling tunes once sung by the sun. Albeit they could be soaring to the skies, finding their purpose, but they choose to mindlessly obey. Uselessly wasting away their potential, and capabilities."
The two sat in silence as Shirame awaited for Sychar's response. This was his last chance to not fuck everything up. "Hm. You're not as incompetent as others say you are."
"You know how to take a hold of a situation, and use it to your advantage, but dejectedly, I'm not one person to be swayed so easily through conversation. Being the envoy of Konet means considering the nation as a whole in the decisions I choose, and sadly that little speech you made does not change my opinion of the Seiji clan. We are not willing to give protection outside the terms of our pact."
He stood up from the couch, the place where he had sat was stained with crimson blood from his men. "Though, make yourself a little valuable, will you?"
Sychar smiled at him, though disingenuously, and left the room. Leaving Shirame stuck in the hollow, empty room. With his men's corpses rotting just outside. The stain that Sychar left on the couch was a reminder to himself what had happened. Many were dead because of him. Usually, it wouldn't matter to him as they were worthless commoners who he had no regard for. But now, they served as another reminder of his incompetence to complete this singular task.
Although the ending wasn't as bad as he expected it would be. He still felt a bit of disappointment, mostly in himself. He absolutely despised that feeling. It was not the feeling of sadness, no. It was the feeling of rage. After all, it was the only thing that brought him much happiness in life. He was irritated at the fact he just couldn't get what he wanted. He was always given what he wanted in life, and he was not willing to compromise anything until he got what he wanted.
He stood from his seat, Leaving the room empty aside from the pure untouched couch, and the bloodied stained couch. The whistling sounds of the breeze passing by the room hallowed through the room.
As he left the room, he saw the extent of the damage Sychar caused. Mutilated bodies laid on the floor, the smell had worsened over time as the bodies had started rotting. Even some of the blood died, which sullied the once pristine hardwood floors. He noticed that the other officials he had seen alive were gone, he assumes they left the moment him, and Sychar had their private discussion. The room was eerily silent, and with every little sound bouncing off the walls. He also swore he could hear the muscle spasms of the corpses lying on the floor.
God, he should take a thorough bath after this. He was surrounded by the corpses of filthy lowlifes. Disgusting.
He slowly walked to the door, not caring if he had stepped on any of the corpses in his wake. It was not as if he had to uphold his character now. The door creaked wide open as he stepped out of the room.
His bloodied soles left a trail of blood with each step he took, staining the hardwood floors of the hallway.
He was no better than the man he feared after all.
…
Shirame approached the lavishly decorated mansion atop the mountain. Its grandeur could attract hundreds of people's attention just by its exterior. As soon as he stepped in many servants came to his aide. Taking his haori, and offering him tea. Which he all gratuities accepted.
He walked down the aimless hallway, walking along the floors he was well accustomed with. He turned, and was faced with a seamless door. He knew he had to be ready for what it may hold. Or, whatever his fate may be.
"Shirame." His older brother's voice permeated through the room. Shirame silently bowed in front of him, and kneeled on the tatami beneath him. All the while his smile never left his face.
"Hello brother, I have some news to report to you." Shirame said with a lack of confidence in his voice. He took a deep breath before continuing. "There were some issues… Regarding the meeting. The General we met had quite the temperment, andー" He was quickly cut off by his older brother's screaming.
"Are you telling me that you have angered one of the Generals?! The envoy of the Grekhi too! All of this information goes straight to their queen. Do you know this would affect our reputation with Konet?! This was such a simple task too! Are you telling me you are so incompetent? Do you even have a purpose, or are you just a porcelain doll idling by doing nothing?!" He screamed at him angrily. Shirame had tried to keep silent, but he couldn't.
"I understand brother. It's just that the General heー!" Again, he was disrupted by his brother's anger.
"Don't give me excuses! I don't care if he held you at knife point. You have to establish camaraderie with him. You should know very well how important our relations with Konet are!" He then went on a tangent about the importance of this, and how could Shirame have been so half-witted to not be able to complete such a simple task as this.
How would you know? He thought to himself, as he held back his urge to scream at the man in front of him.
As his older brother scolded him, Shirame looked at him with contempt in his eyes. His fingernails dug into the skin of his palms, bleeding out crimson red from the pressure.
"And, he also said that the Seiji clan is not a part of Konet's concerns. Unless we make ourselves competent in his eyes, he will not be pursuing any further plans with us."
"What?! Did you not even try to persuade him?!"
"I tried! That man was unmovable in the decisions he made!" Shirame quickly refuted, even slightly raising his voice against his brother.
"Had you tried to commend himー Even flatter him to get him on our good side! You know how important it is to be in Konet's sights. Just because we have made a pact with them does not mean we are on good terms."
"He murdered our men because they had tried to shadow him of our true intentions, all I could do was to speak the truth to him." He tried to shed light into the true situation, he didn't want to bring up the fact of the many dead, but in this situation he really had to string along all of the information he knew.
"Agh! You dumb bastard! How will we ever reconcile with him now?!"
As if you know how to be competent. If that man ever came face to face with you. Surely, he would have killed you on the spot.
He lowered his head, not accepting his defeat, nor his win. His body shaked in anger, it was so unfair. Why was all of this occurring now?!
"I knew it was a terrible idea for mother, and father to coddle you! Just because of your golden eyes, and a stupid family myth! Don't believe that you can easily evade the consequences now, Shirame." He then went on to scold Shirame, but Shirame tuned him out of his mind.
In the end, all of his worth lay in the hands of his eyes. His golden eyes. As it was said, he was an extremely lucky boy. They all said he was made for greatness. So why, why had they lied to him?! Why were they all turning their back on him? He has shown far more competence than his foolish older brother, and his other hotheaded brother. He was perfect.
Everyone adored him! Wherever he walked, others would be kissing the ground beneath it! How dare his older stupid, incompetent, average older brother say that he, of all people, was dumb?! Has he not seen the stupidity of his own men? Those filthy commoners walking all over their safe haven called a home? He has been so benevolent all this time. Taking gratuity in all of their service. Shirame could easily make them a rock in his shoe, but, no! He gives them a time of his mind, because he was perfect, kind, and saintly.
His older brother noticed he had been staring at the floor. "Shirame! Look at me!" He angrily said as Shirame tilted his head up. "No Seiji lowers their heads. We always keep our heads high, remember, we are the mighty Seiji clan. No one would dare to oppose us. Understood?"
Shirame's mind wandered back to what occurred earlier. The haunting feeling of blood on his shoes, and the corpses rotting on the floors. There stood the man who delivered it all… A famed name known across seas, Sychar. That was a man who could easily oppose the might of the Seiji clan.
Shirame was naive then, before he had met Sychar. Sharing the same thoughts as his brother. He thought they were the most feared, and powerful clan. But, when he was standing in front of Sychar, it was as if all of the power he had once before slipped away. He had never been more petrified in his life than he had ever been standing in front of that man. Sychar was the true meaning of fear.
Now, he feared for what might become of his clan.
"I understand, older brother." Shirame stood from the tatami mat beneath him. Aimlessly staring at the floor before bowing, and left the room.
He slowly walked back to his room, his footsteps turning louder, and louder until the noise resounded through the hallway. He had tried to contain his anger, but some had split from the cracks. He hadn't realized he had picked up the pace until he passed by someone. He didn't notice them at first, that was until they had called out to them.
"Shirame." The woman's cold voice permeated the room. Coating it in a chilling cold. Her emerald eyes gaze stopping him in his tracks. Her rouge lips parted as if waiting to say something. Yet waits for Shirame to acknowledge her presence.
He hurriedly turned to face her, taxing a smile on his face. "S-Sister Yuiー '' He quickly stumbled on his words due to her sudden appearance. He mentally berated himself. How could he have made such an amateur mistake in front of his sister? He exhaled, desperately composing himself. He didn't want to be made out as inadequate.
"My apologies for the slip of the tongue, older sister. I was in a bit of a rush from earlier discrepancies. There were just some flaws made in my stead. Haha… Lest not worry, I'm working heartily to diffuse the situation at hand." Sychar kept his famed smile as he stared at his older sister. She stared back, though with a graceful smile it didn't amount to much.
She was one of the very few people he couldn't understand. Her dark black hair was well kept tied up for this day. She also wore much more southern styled clothing. She doesn't stay with one particular choice of clothing. She always made it a show to always change between articles of clothing, and be adorned with new stylesー These usually become a trend with the common folk. But, behind the plentiful jewelry, and gold she adorned throughout her body there was always an unexplainable look dancing in her eyes.
Her rouge lips parted. "In the end, fate is where your luck lies, Shirame."
Right. He also had one minor issue with her.
She spoke only in indecipherable sentences.
That was a part of the reason he had never been able to bond with her. It was like she lived in her own world. Others were an outsider in her own view, she never accepted others. Atleast, introspectively. But it didn't matter to him. It was never the goal to be personally connected with one another. All that it was was that he needed to uphold his reputation. His righteous, perfect, and exemplary image.
"Surely, fate has their eyes on meー Ah." He chuckled to himself. "Of course, they do adore me do they not?"
…
A man with dark red hair paced back and forth inside of Sychar's room. On his left eye were dark blue iris's while on the right were dark green. Quite a unique feature that Mideo, himself, was fond of. His years of working alongside General Sychar… It was a very humbling experience to say the least. But now, from what he had learned from Sychar. He has finally gained a lot of confidence for himself, now happily being able to stand besideー More like behind, as Sychar hated it when others stood beside him, as Sychar's personal attendant! He was proudly known as Sychar's attendant! Even though he was a bit skeptical that Sychar didn't even remember his name.
Now, his current dilemma was finding where had the General run off to?! Just last night, Mideo could not find him anywhere, and was extremely anxious the whole day. Only to be relieved to find Sychar was fine in the morning. Seriously, he should be considered given a pay raise from the amount of stress he reserves. He swore when he stared into the mirror that gray hairs were starting to form even though he was barely in his late 20's.
He started mumbling incoherent words to himself as he was pacing back and forth around the room. He had already sent out multiple guards to find him because if he returned to Konet without the General he might find himself hung at the front gates of the palace.
"Has the General truly left us? It can't be! He has a squadron to lead! I can't handle a bunch of incompetent dumbasses?! Then who's going to pay for my salary now?! I haven't received my paycheck for this month! I don't have enough money to pay for this hotel room! I'M TOO YOUNG TO DIE!!!"
Mideo heard the door creak, and stopped his pacing. "I'm back." Sychar announced calmly as if he wasn't almost drenched in blood.
Mideo stood there shocked as if he had seen a ghost. His pacing had stopped as his eyes stared wide eyed in shock as if Sychar wasn't standing there in the flesh and bones. Sychar glared at him. "I heard everything you said."
"General…" He awkwardly said, and tried to hide his embarrassment. Sychar ignored him, and went on to grab some tissue to try and wipe off all of the blood on him. Evidently staining most of the carpet on the floor. Mideo will definitely have to explain to the staff why there was blood on the floor…
"Hm?" Sychar hummed nonchalantly.
Mideo then threw himself in front of Sychar, flailing around wildly like some type of bird. "Where have you been?! Soldiers have been looking all over for you! We almost turned Jiyuu upside down!!" He then dramatically started babbling about irrelevant things about work. Giving Sychar an opportunity to start fixing himself up. Trying to wipe off all of the leftover blood on his clothes, but at this rate he might need to buy a new uniform.
Mideo suddenly stopped on his tangent, and dove into another topic. "Oh! And the assassin from yesterday? The ugly brunette? We did some digging around her history, and as it turns outー" He pulled out a ridiculously large file from who knows where, and shoved it into Sychar's face.
"Her brother was sent off to Konet, and died in a squadron during the dead of winter. I guess she had some pent up resentment with the Grekhi for years because of this, and finding out that she was going to be serving a General made her bonkers! Some of her coworkers said that they could hear her mumbling to herself at night. With all of this added stress, and anxiety it caused her to impulsively poison your soup." Mideo trailed off his words as he skimmed the file in his hands.
"Huh. This is interesting. It says that the squadron that her brother was a part ofー All of them had died!" He dramatically showed Sychar the file of the dead brother. Did he really need to go digging around the life of a dead man too?
"The Former crown Prince of Jiyuu was a part of that squadron too!" He enthusiastically said. Though, considering the context, it was quite weird how excited he seemed. Seeing Sychar's soured expression, he started quickly backtracking his words.
"Ohー But of course! It is very unfortunate for all those who died in the squadron! Haha!" He tried his best to appear genuine, but from his body language and obvious sarcasm placed in his voice, it didn't seem to persuade Sychar at all.
Sychar only sighed, and slumped into the safe haven of his bed. "So the girl didn't have any connections regarding the Seiji clan? Damn it. I thought we finally had a lead on them." He grumbled, and slumped further into his bed.
"I'm sure if I do a thorough investigation on the Seiji clan I can find some dirt on them. I mean, they're quite bad at hiding their tracks."
Sychar groaned in annoyance. "No need. I don't need to do added work, our mission isn't even fully completed yet. God, fucking, damn it. This day was so fucking tiring… Having to deal with some Seiji shitheads." He recalled all of the errands he had to run, including the random encounters he made. He had such a busy day, he couldn't wait to wash himself off.
"I could run you a hot bath, sir."
"No? Who the fuck do you think you are, my maid?" Sychar furrowed his brows in anger, and looked at him in disdain. Though, Sychar's expression should have told Mideo to back off.
Mideo actually pondered on that question, and he had only one answer in mind. "At this point, sir, I feel I could be identified as one."
The two stared at each other in prickling silence.
"Fine run my fucking bath, but once I leave that bathroom I don't want to see your fucking ass in here!" He scolded the man in front of him, but Mideo didn't seem to mind, and only smiled back.
"Aye Aye General!" He happily obliged and went to the bathroom to run him a warm bath.
Sychar stared up at the ceiling. He had realized something as the attendant left for the room. What was that buzzing bee's name again?
"Huh." He murmured to himself, as he didn't dwell on it any longer.
Humanity; the quality of being humane; kindness; benevolence
(Author notes: What Shirame did during the meeting was the only correct choice! Sychar was extremely angry that the Seiji clan had no intentions of telling him their true motives. If Shirame hadn't chosen to tell Sychar the truth, it would only incite Sychar's anger further. :D)