Chapter 123: Chinelle-The Guardian Owl!
While the drama unfolded at the SSG base, elsewhere in the city, a young man stood cornered in an alley by five low-level Rhemon agents. His offense? Boldly claiming that Tessa was the true Moon Goddess and vowing that the moon goddess would put to an end, Rhemon's "pitiful gang of bandits." His exact words.
This young man was Oxlade, a former student of Riverdale Academy who had once walked the same halls as Tessa. He had witnessed her race like the wind, setting records that echoed throughout the school, eventually hailing her as the fastest student in all of Grinwall. She was an icon, her name chanted by students and spectators alike—a beacon of hope in a darkening world.
But dreams of his own had been stifled by Rhemon's iron grip. University, once within reach, was now a closed door unless he swore fealty to Rhemon and his minions. The new education system demanded loyalty and obedience. The thought of becoming a lackey made Oxlade's blood boil.
"What do you want?" he barked, glaring defiantly at the five agents closing in on him, fists clenched and ready for a fight. He knew he was outnumbered, but he wasn't about to let fear silence him.
Rhemon's agents gripped their axes tightly, surrounding Oxlade with a menacing gleam in their eyes. These men were mere foot soldiers in Rhemon's hierarchy—low-level, without any special abilities, for true power didn't emerge until reaching level 3 and above.
In Rhemon's twisted system, the rank hierarchy was brutally clear: the lower the number, the more powerful the agent. A level 2 held command over a level 3, who in turn held authority over a level 4. These thugs in front of him, all level 5, were among the lowest ranks, serving as pawns in Rhemon's ever-tightening grasp on Grinwall.
"You keep spouting trash about Lord Rhemon," one of the men snarled, stepping closer. "We thought we'd teach you some respect."
Oxlade's heart hammered, but a fire burned within him. He knew fear wouldn't serve him here; only courage would. He straightened, his voice rising defiantly. "Tessa will come for you," he spat, eyes blazing with conviction. "Have you not heard? There's a new hope spreading through the city…"
The men shifted uncomfortably as Oxlade continued, his confidence growing. "There's a hand that appears in the darkest hour, wiping out Rhemon's agents—thugs like you. Ever hear about Yuri, that level 4 operative? Word is he's died a tragic death, and he was a little... incomplete with his genitalia mutilated beyond any form of further transplantation or repair" he said, grinning as the men's faces paled. "Didn't even see his attacker, yet he lost everything. And guess what? There'll be more like him."
The agents hesitated, glancing nervously at one another. For the first time, Oxlade saw a flicker of doubt in their eyes, and he knew he'd hit a nerve.
One of the men sneered, trying to rally his companions with venomous confidence. "Maybe this Tessa is the true Moon Goddess, or maybe she's just a figurehead, a puppet," he spat. "Either way, you're done for. Nobody—and I mean nobody—is coming to save you. You'll die afraid and alone, with no one to hear you scream."
He turned to his companions, barking orders. "Boys, finish off this clown…"
The other thugs twisted their axes in anticipation, their twisted grins widening as they closed in. Dark mutterings filled the air as they prepared to hack Oxlade down, relishing his impending end.
But just as they lunged forward, a piercing screech split the air, so loud and sharp it sent them stumbling back in shock, clutching their ears. The sound was disorienting, aimed with deadly precision. Above them, perched like a vigilant guardian, was a massive owl with eyes blazing—a creature with a fierce presence, ancient and formidable.
The owl was Chinelle, Tessa's long-time companion, the faithful guardian she had left behind at Riverdale Academy years ago to protect those she held dear. In all this time, Chinelle had watched over the school and its people, and now, sensing Oxlade's plight, it had arrived, ready to defend him.
Oxlade's attackers staggered, some trembling under the owl's gaze as they looked at each other, confusion and fear flickering across their faces.
Back at the temple, miles away, Tessa was deep in meditation when the call reached her. The powerful link between her and Chinelle flared to life, filling her with an urgent vision of Oxlade surrounded and in peril. She didn't hesitate, her eyes snapping open as she rose with an aura of determination.
Turning to Adrian and Nyala, who had been nearby, she beckoned them to follow. "It's Oxlade. He needs us."
Without another word, Tessa launched into the air, moving with a swiftness that cut through the daylight. Adrian and Nyala followed, disappearing in a blur of speed, as if the wind itself carried them toward the fight. The sky seemed to bend in their wake, and within moments, they were gone, leaving only a whisper of their presence behind.
–Back at the scene, the thug leader sneered, glaring at Oxlade with pure contempt. "You really think that overgrown chicken will save you? You're more pathetic than I thought," he jeered, sparking a round of laughter among his men. The mocking chorus echoed through the alley, amplifying their confidence.
But Oxlade's reaction was far from what they expected. He looked up at Chinelle with a calm, almost relieved smile, as if he already knew the outcome. To him, Chinelle's arrival was a promise of safety, a fierce symbol of the unbreakable protection Tessa had always offered. Riverdale Academy had produced countless graduates, each shielded by this watchful owl and the swift, silent power of Tessa herself. Chinelle's arrival had always signaled that help was on its way—and this time was no different.
"Chinelle…" Oxlade breathed, his voice swelling with newfound confidence. With a daring grin, he continued, stepping forward toward the thugs, as though he held the upper hand. "Shall we show them why people like them don't last when you arrive? Shall we remind them why no one dares mess with a Riverdale graduate?"
The thugs' laughter died down, replaced by uneasy glances between them. Their bravado started to slip, and an instinctual fear crept into their movements. Chinelle's glare bore down on them with a quiet menace, the owl's sharp talons flexing as if ready to strike.
Oxlade's boldness only grew. His steps gained momentum, and the more confidently he strode forward, the more the thugs found themselves stepping back. For a brief, electrifying moment, it was as if Oxlade himself had become the predator, and they were his prey, trapped beneath Chinelle's piercing gaze.
The leader hesitated, glancing nervously at his men, but before any of them could regroup, the unmistakable sound of something approaching at impossible speed filled the air. It was the rush of wind—sharp, direct, powerful.