Noticing this, Baron bellowed.
"What are you doing fool, hurry up and-"
However, his words were cut by Zyro's respectful yet domineering request.
"The torch, can you please hand it over."
In the face of the chilling gaze of the young man's pure black eyes, Baron softly throws the torch to him. While saying.
"Kid, whatever you are thinking, it's impossible. We might make it through this whatever the hell I'm currently in... Somehow."
Even Scarlet tried to discourage him.
"There's over a hundred of them, Zyro. Snap out of it and come with us. We have a better chance of survival together."
"I'm sorry to disappoint you, princess. But we already got to the deepest part of this cave. So I assure you, there's nothing that could save us there. Baron can confirm this, too."
She looked at the elderly slave, who somberly nodded in response.
Zyro continues calmly.
"Princess, there's nothing but death ahead. So I chose the path back."
Scarlet had a dark expression, she remained quiet for a while. Then, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath and showed a fake smile, it looked so real, it's evident she did this many times in the past. However, her subtle trembling caused a crack in her deceitful act.
Her lips shuddered in fear, but forced the words out with a strange mix of courageous determination and desire to cry in sadness. It's visible she's holding the tears from falling.
"I-l see... Then I should be the one to walk back. After all, this entire thing is my fault. My life is the only thing they want, so-"
Just like a righteous leader, she decided to not drag her companions anymore and walk alone... Towards death.
The weight of walking to the end of life are unbearable. Exceptionally so, if you're wise enough to predict what horrible death assassins would give to a gorgeous royal in this dark caverns. Scarlet doubt she'll receive a proper burial. It hurts, as if she's in the most terrifying nightmare.
Scarlet had just begun walking weakly to that nightmare.
However, her steps were stopped by Zyro, pointing the burning torch to her like a flaming sword. Staring at her nonchalantly, he said.
"It's better if I go alone though."
Scarlet blinked a couple of times, speechless. When she found her words, Zyro was already holding her shoulders, pushing her back.
"Go now, I can handle them alone, don't worry."
Only then did she recover from the brief shock.
"Zyro, this is not a joking matter! I'm doing this for your sake as well."
But her heartfelt words are disregarded. Zyro look at her straight in the eye.
"Listen here, Scarlet. Honestly, you owe me a favor already. And even more after this matter is over. How are you supposed to pay that if you died? You can't. That's why you have no right to die under my watch. So can you please just go ahead."
She had a complicated expression, unable to understand his logic. Scarlet didn't want him to die in vain, but his stubborness was not something she can bend. In the end, the princess reluctantly turns away. He didn't even show signs of wavering in the entire argument.
"Fine, if this is what you decide. Then be it, your life is yours so you decide whatever you do with it."
If he wants to remain here to die so much, no one can do anything to persuade him.
Baron, Scarlet and Pert turn to leave. Everyone was visibly against his decision, thinking it's a futile endeavor. Only Pert didn't try stopping him, and even gave him an encouraging smile. Because he knows that the Fallen Knight isn't someone who'll easily fall.
The foreboding echoes of the enemy's march was now dreadfully loud. Like the sound of a surging tide, ready to drown those who block their way.
Yet, the young man simply awaits them with indifferent confidence, his gaze cold and cruel. Not even moving an inch as they approach.
Zyro had grown tired running away, to flee desperately to save his pitiful life. Since arriving in this world, that's all he has been doing. He ran from the Gricks, and kept running more. Why? Because his weak.
But that all changed now, for he had built his own foundation by his very hands. Transforming himself from the mortal human who can't even fare well against a mere Alpha. To the being he is now. Someone who's confident in killing a hundred men.
As the volume of the enemy steps rises, Zyro pulls the half-mask hidden in his ragged scarf. It covered his nose with its cybernetic steel design, running up to his ear, which ended on a circular ear-pad. While leaving the rest exposed.
Under the mask, Zyro's lips curved into a grin.
'To think I'll get to use it this soon.'
He then checked his gears.
[Partial Mask activated... The speaker and noise block are fully functional.]
At that time, the assassins had caught sight of him - A young man in ragged garments, holding a flaming torch. He looks like a normal slave, except that he possess an pure black hair, and two eyes akin to pools of darkness. With half his face covered in dark steel.
That young man gave off a dreadful vibes, his standing alone in a cave this deep. As the light he held illuminated his stony surroundings. Oddly motionless.
"Man, that slave is creepy."
An assassin muttered.
"Should we slow down? That thing might be a monster!"
"Quiet, you cowards! That's just one person, while there's over a hundred of us. What's there to be afraid of?"
All of a sudden, the lone figure ahead moved towards them.
The squadron leader who's holding a mystical compass decisively ordered.
"Those with long spears, shift to the front and meet him dead!"
The group was battle sufficient, they quickly adjusted according to their superior command.
However, the next moment. A monotone voice that no living creatures could produce resounded, in a tone devoid of emotions as it told a tale.
"???????????????????????????!"
Everyone ears perked up, subconsciously trying to understand the meaning behind the sound. It only took them a second to comprehend what the ominous speaker was saying. Which left them no time to regret the price of such knowledge.
Whatever it is they got to know, wrecked havoc in their minds as soon as it's entered.
In the next second, their steady march falls into disarray. Some tripped, causing nearby allies to lose their balance. Some simply stop advancing, blocking those behind. While the majority of them scream frantically, pulling their hairs with frenzid eyes, opened wide in horror. A few seemed to have lost their soul, their faces expressionless, their body limp and motionless. As if their consciousness was destroyed, leaving an empty shell behind.
If there's anything they share in common, is that of them had lost clarity they have a moment ago.
As the sinister slave close in, the curse he utter wash over the assassins. Escaping sound was impossible, for it's speed are far greater than they could run or realize what's happening. Soon, all of them received forbidden knowledge, so did madness.
The once tranquil caverns were suddenly filled by cries, laughter and roars. Everyone had their sanity broken in mere seconds.
Only Zyro remained unchanged, his black pupils glistened with cold intent to kill his foes. If anything, his a bit surprised by the power of [Utter Vile]
The Vile knowledge is only played for a few seconds, yet that's enough to corrupt every listeners mind. [Utter Vile] isn't activated for long, because the surroundings are already drowned in shrill cries of madman's by the time Zyro reaches the assassins.
It's loud, in a gruesome way. But the noise didn't affect him, in fact, his unable of hearing anything at all. The half-mask are multi-purpose, beside having a speaker and headset for communication and air filter feature. The ear pad covering his ear can also block any external sound from entering his hearing.
The vampiric assassins are reached by the light he brings. Allowing him to see his foes visage's. All of them wore the same cloaks, their face hidden under the hoods deep shadow.
Their ones organized formation was gone, replaced by messy arrangements of restless assassins. They look miserable as they cry in pain without reason behind their movements. The scene can only be described as chaotic...
And full of openings.
As soon as he approached, one of them fell victim to his blade. Zyro held the torch on one hand, while silver blade sprouted from his other forearm. The retractable blade of the Shroud of Night slashed again, reaping another life. Each swing and thrust of his blade take a life, reducing the enemy bit by bit.
Zyro had a cold expression behind the mask, devoid of any joy. Killing vampires isn't fun at all, he wanted to get done with it as soon as possible.
His already standing on a pile of corpses, like a death bringer in the depths of hell in ragged garments. Blood drips down from the silver blade, which luster the warm lights produced by the burning torch he held to illuminate his enemies. He gaze down with cold indifference, thought for a moment, before moving again.
This time, ashen mist flowed out of his hand, spreading on the ground he paved with blood.