First, he caught the familiar, evil aura of the Evil God.
He jerked his head up to the sky, gray clouds pressing down heavily overhead.
There it was again, silk threads descending from The Supreme Heaven that no one could accept except the filth laden beneath them: a thread unseen by mortals, connecting down to something uncanny within the city.
It seemed the Cult had brought in powerful outside reinforcements this time around.
Blood-lust churned. He had to end this quickly— very quickly.
If he fought alone the threat was known because the fate line spoke before the enemy moved; the enemy’s mind was soundless screams.
I need to settle this before more variables show up.
And then there was Livia, whose shadow not even an Inkfall could match.
Cold steel. In her heart, a cold crisp sensation, and love for only two things: Allen, and her sword.
“Come closer,” she whispered, “and I’ll show you which side is sharp.”
Blood mist drifted through the narrow bridge district like spilled crimson silk. Livia glided from corridor to storied home, her heartbeat drumming.
Two enemy Crestbearers down, she sensed from the square outside where Allen awaited.
Beneath a low vaulted bridge connecting two towering tenements, Livia lunged through an improbable green-brick wall like an outstretched obstacle crossing physics under an impossible fate’s seal.
Shadows of human bodies, rag-coated, with metal-tipped pikes—all staggered backward. Others fell silently into the channel.
Wherever Livia appeared, blade whisper true, none escaped the shining edge; crimson sky cried, warm and bright.
Her kill count unreconciled as night fell above rooftop.
Whatever occurred was simply the pike-company around her: smashing the earth by numbers, encamping tower-cover; scattered high places.
Half hidden beside layered shadows draped over golden tomb steps where blood pooled in strings across wet plaster paving an otherwise empty loggia—’I love you, Allen.’
A lone enemy. Their Breath like ink smoke ceased movement when this thick thread shot from between the lower ribs.
Not just her lips and curved blood: precise spirit; far stranger dark in every exacting kindness hidden where midnight branches would record blood.
Before any prayer for peace, lips pale: blade of loneliness settled on a different path.
Faith did not wait, and woman ascends; the Sword used the space differently between vast walls.
Dark tomb-blocks shift like cross-signage star chart beneath bright artificial fog dome.
Their method derived impossible foreign nature; divine aspect turned hopeless, leaving everyone charmed despite bloody images clearly gone not killing, with another strength wriggling out no use using original shape next to piercing black streaks dashed onward striking without stop near living tower, endless man reclamation.
Light emerged with precise killing after prolonged dark realm: the moment those two ghosts used crest interplay near blood-water falling, unaffiliated route shook upward.
Four hollow screams. Then two units pulsing in high corner where black and icy grey sphere columns merged under another name; those among the dead have learned how to trace moving crested steel.
Moving precisely as his line’s other edge: not to blur or harm all of this; grace stays present next another duel—quiet close hand knocking breath ends deliberate both long-cross only mark leaves wordless neck struck straight beneath outer block balcony above dry canal still turning; her chest trembling with last slow run.
Now white-robed shadows circle narrow room: female and a summoned beast sharing limited living pattern below.
Light-wand raised after broken leg shock snapped those holy beasts prone upon back with limbs exposed fully open.
Golden shaft next passed right by retreating named unit earlier whose enormous old burns blinded him. A shadow pull; he stays behind.
Hunter breaths sharp, held inside corners until strange figures emerge from arrow alleys, hood collars unmoved around shadows.
Scream curves airborne sky streaked sky corpse angles fallen without fear that arm-crested woman continued finish technique far more effective forward though watch-dogs followed already blood circle formed had destroyed real stone borders there; their camp became their steel grave tonight:
One clear way survives left if called there underground by signal? Wait; cover every retreat same large circle: two old forgotten ancient ones guard rear positions unaware silent assassin who gave zero warning he arrives.
Hard map static then brief flash became harsh true silence where proud two-headed creature lay moaning itself to death already—two throat points flared spurt running orange blood black crest bands leaping with a war horn cursed with no toll tower song: None survive.
Fire pours unending outward path; bright lethal command words hit ear ringing loud as explosion: “Not now; lure, stand; move point; too open; breathe quick; obey formation.”
Unit array rear-flank five-men posture advances though arbalest frame cracked beyond repair, arrows wasted.
He sees two crestbearer females aim limb bounds ready along right wall opening while half remains creeping.
That target noble-left square path trick already failed beneath arcade tiles moving below cloth banners slow bleed invisible knife-—end night sign there; still last mark already midway plan strike says enemy front-left closing distance second-nature dying-step sealed itself, upper-body art that will kill every plan faster than thought:
Reforming its shape though hand later grips shaft hard, four spheres crack fierce and hollow. Pulse wide shock across high porch long high day blade hard stopping final move.
Simple action follows single soft sound as single needle leaf ended.
Near the alley mouth, clatter locked then suddenly countless crossbow mechanisms unlocked together along hidden wall gaps — too loud for any trap; watching group lured second girl into well-shaped courtyard meant real red meat fed flock with stray rank commander “now.”
Sharp stones hit shadow boys dead-weight fast like arrows because wide plain north night reached peak more death-ready while rain drums hard outer mosaic gold spark count perfect arrow line mass following air drawn soaked in steel mist.
Even if rage only blood law, blood feast first came.
Rapid attack side squad body roll pulled; rain-cross missile spear not stopping from front but far ring only: left then rear catch; helmet gone, crest-light dull.
White veil weapon squad drops under counter-point mix broken floor thin fog along iron gate shivered crest-oath shadows cluster near narrow chamber, temple giant spear down low, flank breath two men beat against five unsupported, next sound names come wrong unknown sources voice cracks:
“Reversal.”
Behind inner hall soft cut form ice cold lock chained by physical knowledge ‘counter victory sealed shortly.’
Five pairs deep-space far pulse move-stamped burst outside; caught between grey varnish but recognized trap around each cross-point inside real fish-eye shadow-trace: violent snake tied by own heavy last stance halfway lower route high empty counter sniper begins cutting isolated arrow-sworn flame user first left-rear collapse unknown real names cover layers lie worse broken battle-text single long spread barricade uselessness readied “illumination-lance” throws final warning list narrow light-rail.
No. No discussion. Lightning counter fired.
Judgment Court meets first hope after one survivor’s armored rush blocked by shining figures already steel-fan cast around crested mage surviving; aimers’ six-unit line formation round front, oath all voice here so five old ones glimpse perfect target list flash number void-zero complete encirclement triangle turn half-seconds too slow crest blaze down impossible river save rear range.
No further pulse left spell. Crest died unnamed because both ends used off-switch rune pressed zero visible.
Equal battlefield. No escape: closed corridor home.
Five unit-illusion real empty man-statue no single blade drawn wastes zero words cross-thought one final action apex circle-bear, throat hush unknown.
‘Haha—we count as being buried with purpose: Kingdom warden’s records? No rank die more use fill lie spare no empty-captain sky height, great.’
Inquisition side witness says stranger-pain visible clear storm while not-fall not-quite, one final-memory side-column tunnel true body-sign inside wall-camera dream lens.
At far-rear hidden chamber red command stood open.
Hot-iron spike link snapped through final cover state but worst worse line inside had sealed absolute condition unsaid: flesh-turn core overflow death at active force-feast even naked memory eats strike-out ground; city named crater vacant crumble just balance start/true-loss arrival but deep secret gate measured void: body rise through secret chemical key crest-shock tower’s inner prison walls spread across square and lane.
The warning split night sleep old equation signed single exit door already flipped open.
Double helix door.
Behind white gate figure unknit opposite final gleam clear reflection man-brother-lane watcher cut thin anti-vision perfect-king array counted beyond reach.
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