Chapter 163: After the battle!
Bandel Blue turned toward the trembling Level 3 agent, his gaze as unrelenting as the noonday sun baking the desert sands. Each step he took seemed to ripple through the ground like the echoes of a distant earthquake, drawing the air from the entirety of the camp. The walls seemed to close in on Nitche, the agent's breath shallow as his knees buckled under an invisible weight.
Bandel halted a mere breath away from the man, his towering frame casting a shadow that seemed to swallow the light. His eyes, sharp and glowing with an unearthly intensity, dropped to the insignia pinned to Nitche's chest, marking his rank.
"What is your name?" Bandel's voice was low, yet it carried a weight that demanded obedience.
"Nit… Nitche," the man stammered, his complexion turning ashen, sweat trailing down his temples.
Bandel's lips curled into a smirk that lacked any warmth. "Nitche," he repeated, the name rolling off his tongue like a judge pronouncing a sentence. "Do you know why I've allowed you to live?"
Nitche shook his head, his fear palpable.
"You're a messenger," Bandel continued, his voice colder than the void between stars. "You will tell Rhemon that my patience has its limits. You alone will carry this warning because, unlike the vermin swarming below your rank, your death might sting his pride, so as a measure of benevolence, I am letting you live."
Bandel leaned in, his voice dropping further, the room seeming to constrict around them. "What is Rhemon's endgame? Why send you here?" His eyes bore into Nitche, their intensity a drill aimed at the man's very soul.
Nitche's heart thundered against his ribcage. The entire camp seemed to spin around him as he weighed his options, each one grimmer than the last. Betray Rhemon, and he might be signing his death warrant. Yet, facing Bandel's wrath offered no promise of survival either. The choice was stark and immediate.
"H-he wants more subjects for the synchronization program," Nitche admitted, his words barely above a whisper, his lips quivering.
Bandel's expression didn't change, as if he had anticipated the answer. "And why not use the fodder from your lower ranks?" His tone was laced with disdain.
Nitche swallowed hard. "The synchronization program... it has a high fatality rate. So because of...of this, the medical team developed a screening test to reduce the casualties. Only those who pass the test are eligible. The rest—those who fail—are assigned to Levels 4, 5, or 6 based on their combat ability and leadership skills."
Bandel nodded, a calculated understanding in his eyes. His voice was now almost a whisper, but it carried the force of a thunderclap. "So, if Rhemon gets his hands on the green Rhemonics, he'll bypass the test entirely, won't he? Forcing them into synchronization without a second thought?"
Nitche hesitated for a fraction of a second, then nodded, his voice cracking. "Yes."
Bandel straightened, his presence as overwhelming as ever. "Then it seems Rhemon's ambitions blind him to the cost," he murmured, his gaze shifting momentarily as though contemplating the far-reaching consequences. His focus returned to Nitche. "Deliver my message, and make no mistake—if Rhemon crosses me again, I will not be so lenient."
Nitche felt the strain at his temples intensify, a telltale sign of panic creeping in. ~Why would I want to go back to Rhemon? That's a death sentence. Once I leave this place, I'm off the radar. This stupid agent business—it's over. I'm getting tired of it anyway~, he thought, his mind racing even as he tried to focus on Bandel Blue's presence.
"Get out," Bandel Blue ordered coldly.
The Level 3 agent didn't even have time to react before an invisible force slammed him against the east gate of the camp. He crumpled to the ground, groaning in pain, before wobbling to his feet and staggering away as soon as he regained his balance.
Bandel Blue turned his attention to the remaining 699 agents, his voice sharp and commanding, cutting through the tense air like a blade. "Release the green Rhemonics. Tidy up the entire camp. I want everything repaired. Treat every injured person thoroughly. And two of you—carry Tessa's mother's body here."
The camp erupted into action, a surge of controlled chaos as agents moved with precision, their discipline evident. They worked like a well-oiled machine, swiftly releasing the green Rhemonics from their bindings and tending to the wounded. Advanced medical kits were distributed, their cutting-edge technology ensuring rapid healing and recovery. The dull hum of machinery mixed with the murmurs of orders being issued and followed.
Bandel Blue strode towards his sleek, modernized truck—a vehicle that stood out amidst the ruggedness of the camp. The truck's matte finish gleamed faintly under the camp's artificial lighting, a symbol of his authority and readiness.
He climbed in with a practiced ease, his presence alone commanding respect. Moments later, two agents approached, carefully carrying Ms. Caldwell's lifeless body, their faces taut with a mix of reverence and fear.
They placed her gently in the truck, then hastily retreated, their anxious glances betraying their desire to avoid any misstep under Bandel Blue's watchful eye.
Ecdy and Nymff emerged from the fray, their warrior garb torn and stained with dirt and blood. Their bodies bore the marks of battle—cuts and bruises crisscrossing their skin. Ecdy, still dazed from the intensity of the fight, had barely noticed the tide of the battle shifting until the green Rhemon agents began collapsing around him, their strength seemingly sapped in an instant.
In his mind, there was only one explanation: Tessa. She had always been the cornerstone of their strength. But as he turned and caught sight of the newcomer—Bandel Blue—standing amid the chaos, his confusion deepened. Was this Tessa's doing, or had she found a new, formidable ally?
The two warriors approached the truck. Bandel Blue sat with an air of quiet dominance, his eyes fixed ahead as if contemplating the next move in a larger game. Nyala cradled Tessa, who appeared barely conscious, her once vibrant aura now dim.
Ecdy stepped forward, his concern etched on his face. "What happened to her?" he demanded, his voice heavy with worry.
Nyala's gaze flickered briefly to him before returning to Tessa. "When this is over, I'll explain everything. For now, patience." Her tone was clipped, brooking no argument.
Ecdy frowned but reluctantly stepped back, his mind weaving its own narrative. Tessa must have expended all her energy saving the camp, he reasoned. That would explain her weakened state. Satisfied with his conclusion, he gave a small nod, his faith in Tessa unshaken.
Nymff, however, was more analytical. Her sharp eyes darted between Bandel Blue and Tessa, noting the subtleties others might miss. She knew better than to jump to conclusions. Bandel Blue had saved them, of that she was certain. But the strange energy surrounding Tessa hinted at something deeper, something beyond their understanding.