Chapter Twenty-Two
"You're an idiot, aren't you?" Idris sneered, crossing his arms.
"What? Who are you calling an idiot, you little brat?" Miles snapped, his fists tightening at his sides.
Idris let out an exasperated sigh, rolling his eyes. "If I stay here any longer, those Xeno guys will show up any second." He turned, preparing to leave.
"Wait! Where do you think you're going?" Miles exclaimed, stepping forward.
"Anywhere but here. My original plan was for you to guide me to your cabin so that I can destroy it, but clearly, you're too incompetent to even navigate the forest," Idris retorted, his tone dripping with disdain." Anywhere but here. My original plan was for you to guide me to your cabin so that I can destroy it, but clearly, you're too incompetent to even navigate the forest," Idris retorted, his tone dripping with disdain.
Miles had had enough. With a growl of frustration, he unsheathed his sword in one fluid motion. "Okay, that's it!" he shouted, dashing toward Idris and executing a perfect swing.
But Idris was faster. In an instant, blood-red, sinewy tentacles erupted from his back, shooting toward a nearby tree. The appendages latched on, yanking him upward just as Miles' blade sliced through the air where he had been standing.
From his perch in the tree, Idris glared down. "I thought you were different," he spat, the tentacles writhing like living shadows.
Miles tightened his grip on his sword, glaring back. "Look, kid, I don't have time for this. My friend is missing, and I—" He stopped mid-sentence, narrowing his eyes. "What do you mean by 'you thought I was different'?"
Idris released his grip on the tree, dropping silently to the ground. His landing was deliberate, every motion filled with cold fury.
"The Xeno Corpse wiped out an entire race of Blood Screechers," Idris hissed, his tentacles unfurling again like a predator preparing to strike. "And now, you've come back to finish the job!"
Miles took a step back, stunned by the accusation. "What? I don't know what you're talking about!"
"Oh, don't play dumb with me!" Idris growled, his tentacles slamming into the ground as his voice rose. "I've seen what the Xeno Corpse is capable of!"
"Wait, I thought it was Rigour," exclaimed Miles.
"Giggles, that's what they told you?" Idris said, his voice heavy with a bitter edge.
Miles hesitated, the uncertainty creeping into his tone. "Yes... That's what I thought."
Idris shook his head slowly, his expression darkening. "Rigour might've wiped out some of my pieces when he got that vessel... but it was the Xeno Corpse that did most of the damage." His voice cracked, and tears began to stream down his face despite his efforts to remain composed.
"I... I didn't know," Miles stammered, guilt cutting through him. "I'm sorry. I didn't know about that."
"It doesn't matter," Idris muttered, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "But—"
Before he could finish, Miles suddenly shoved him aside, the motion so abrupt it left Idris falling to the ground.
"Hey! What the—" Idris started, but Miles wasn't listening. His eyes were fixed on the figure in the distance—a man suspended in midair.
It was Grey.
Grey floated effortlessly, his posture calm and calculating, one arm raised as if pulling an invisible bowstring. No weapon was visible, but the intent in his stance was unmistakable.
Miles' mind raced. Crimson mentioned something about Grey... Invisible Manipulation.
His body moved before he could think, instincts taking over. The sword was out of its sheath in an instant, and he swung it in a sharp arc in front of Idris' stunned eyes.
CLANG!
The metallic clash rang out, though nothing appeared to collide with the blade. Miles' grip tightened on his weapon as he stared at the space before him, heart pounding.
Invisible Manipulation... so it's real, he thought, his mind churning. And it's unlike any magic I've seen in my time here.
"That wasn't meant for you, but the next one will be if you don't get out of my way," Grey's voice echoed through the clearing, a calm yet chilling tone that carried an air of amusement.
Miles stepped forward, keeping his blade raised. "Grey, he is just a child. I'm not sure this boy is the monster we thought; we can go about this differently."
"Maybe but when he is dead," Grey replied, his lips curling into a smirk.
Miles' eyes darted around, waiting for what the Xeno Corpse had to throw at him next. Beside him, Idris sat frozen on the ground, his body quivering slightly. "Who the hell is that guy?" Idris whispered.
"A problem," Miles replied through gritted teeth.
A sudden blur shot out of the trees. Crimson skidded to a stop. "Miles! There you are!" he shouted, relief flooding his voice. "I thought the Blood Screecher had you!"
Before Miles could respond, the forest erupted with movement. One by one, soldiers clad in their black-and-silver insignia of the Xeno Corpse stepped out from the shadows. They moved with precision, forming a tight circle around the group, their weapons gleaming ominously under the moonlight.
Crimson's gaze darted around, his relief giving way to confusion. "Guys, what's going on? We are with you?" he demanded, his voice rising.
Miles didn't answer. Instead, he tapped Crimson's shoulder and pointed down at Idris. The boy lay sprawled on the ground, his body trembling and unmoving. His face was pale, his eyes wide with terror.
Crimson's eyes narrowed as the pieces clicked together. "Don't tell me that—" He stopped himself, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Oh, for the love of—"
"I can explain," Miles began, stepping forward, but Crimson cut him off with a raised finger. "Not now," Crimson hissed, his tone sharp. "We've got bigger problems."
A ripple in the air caught their attention. Grey descended gracefully, as though walking down invisible steps. Each motion was deliberate, his smirk never faltering.
"Well, well," Grey said, his voice dripping with mockery. "Looks like we've got traitors in our midst."
His words hung in the air, and the soldiers tightened their grip on their weapons drawing closer.