“They have him already? NO! IT CAN’T BE!” He screamed at the end, promptly stomping through the floor. Meanwhile, Thaev’s eyes simply trembled before he asked once more.

  “Are you sure? Maybe it was just some dream? Raphael?” He kept going, however, Lutiel’s slow nods only made him drop his face, disappointment ruling over him.

  “Damn it,” he muttered calmly, unlike the pope beyond them. Cursing and damning the place, he walked around nervously.

  “How did Sheila not notice it? Or did she not care?” The pope whispered to himself while Lutiel witnessed everything with relaxed eyes, watching as he tossed his mitre away before gnawing through his grey hair.

  “Can I finally ask something?” Lutiel said suddenly, bringing their distraught faces right at him. While Thaev glanced at him meekly, the pope barked away.

  “What is it?!”

  “Yes, Raphael?”

  They asked simultaneously, but the man’s stance never faded. Grasping on the emperor’s hands that still kept on his shoulders, he pried them away lightly before peering through them with a serious mien.

  “Why have we been doing all of this to him? I just can’t remember the reason for it,” he asked, only a wave of laughter to engulf him from beyond the ruler.

  “Is that what you were wondering about? Well, it doesn’t matter anymore if he’s fucking gone!” The pope screamed, his nose scrunched up beyond measure. Swiftly catching himself by the knees as his breathing began to deteriorate from all the sudden moves, he looked up at the two.

  “The power he held will only be for the cinseris to use now. We were meant to have it. It was ours, but you couldn’t fight any better ten years ago, could you?” The pope spouted, pointing his finger at the armored man, at the same time making Thaev’s expression sour slightly.

  “Filvind, what are you saying right now?” Somewhat bewildered, the emperor turned to him, also raising his tone. “A damn third level was in his way, how was he supposed to win with a bunch of useless cripples at his disposal? It’s a miracle he’s still alive.”

  His face shaking from anger, the pope released a deep glare at the emperor. “You… all these years inside here made you soft, Thaev. You aren’t the same one that made the deal with me. You know what’s going to happen to these lands, that’s why they offered us help in the first place!” He screamed, bending the brows excessively.

  “I don’t give a fuck about that anymore! Besides, he’s not here anymore, so why should this continent be destroyed?” He asked, irritation growing through his expression before continuing. “You’ve grown too hungry for power you would never have in the first place. I know you want to use magic because you’re scared of death, Filvind, not because these lands would perish,” said Thaev, promptly making the pope gnash his teeth away.

  “What the hell do you know, you brat? You’re just a failure of a ruler! I had to pull you up every single moment you started to waver, and this is how you repay me? You fucking bastard,” Filvind spat out, burrowing in the anger.

  Yet, his face turned just as quickly. From anger to confusion and furrow, swiftly to worry. Watching a crimson liquid dripping between his lips, Thaev’s own brows squirmed from the unknown feeling.

  Slowly, glancing away from the pope down to his chest, his lips parted slightly. “Huh?” He whispered out, starstruck at the sight of a bloodied sword’s tip sticking out from the middle. Briskly losing strength, his figure fell down to the carpet as the sword disappeared.

  On his knees and hands, the man’s face started to sweat whilst his eyesight shook, a stream falling from the center of his chest down to the carpet, blending in to match the shades.

  “Raphael? Why? Why did you do thi-” He began to mutter out, alas, his strength dissipated too briskly for him to fully speak out the question. Dropping to the floor with a still open mouth, he hit the floor before the pope did the same, albeit dropping to his bottom, his widened eyes trembling at the sight.

  “Y-y-you! Raphael! What are you doing?!” The pope once again pointed at him, speaking out through the shaking arm.

  With a steady gait, Lutiel approached the emperor calmly. Stopping for a second before glancing at his figure momentarily, his sword grazed across the purple robes, cleaning the redness of the metal before settling at the man once more.

  “RAPHAEL! ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND?!” Filvind screamed suddenly, trying to get any sort of reaction from his cold face. Regardless, the indifferent gaze wouldn’t change no matter what.

  Cutting the carpet apart as he dragged the sword towards the pope, he quickly saw his trembling figure clearer with every step he took.

  “Ahh, ah!” The man spat out suddenly, faltering once more as he locked eyes with the man. “You’re not Raphael, are you?”

  Once again, Lutiel didn’t reply. Standing just a step away from the frightened pope, he slowly hovered his sword above the head. With a freezing glare washing over Filvind, he could only mutter faint whispers.

  “Ah, huu, please Lutiel, it’s you, right? I know this sounds untrustworthy, but,” he couldn’t finish the words. The sword descending right at his face made him stop, however, the man never closed his eyes, despite death looming over him.

  Rather, right before the sword pushed through his face, a blue film covered his skin wholly, tossing the man away a few steps back. Smiling away as he witnessed the faltering figure, he quickly opened his lips. “Kaiyar! Mezel! HEL~~,” though, before he could finish, his eyes staggered slightly, widening as he felt a hand covering his mouth.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Already back against him, Lutiel’s left arm grasped his protected mouth, swiftly watching as the transparent, blue layer covering him started breaking off, much to the man’s dismal.

  “Huh?! NO! NO!” He uttered quickly, however, the man was unable to stop the sword pervading his revealed mouth, all the way through his skull.

  Still not raising himself from the ground, Lutiel stared at the pope’s impaled face for a few breaths. His hand kept on the man’s chin, he couldn’t help but go down, lingering on his chest as he felt a stream flowing from there towards his arm.

  Quickly, his sword plopped out of the skull, only to taint the bright, ornate robes with their owner’s blood. Cutting through the layers of ostentatious fabric, he swiftly witnessed his decrepit skin, a pale chest catered with gray strands of hair.

  However, his eyes focused more on the bright blue gem sitting in the center, hanging from a golden chain closing around the folds of his neck.

  Slowly, he raised the chain off his gray head, trying not to taint it with the blood that pooled underneath the pope’s corpse apace. Although some of the crimson shades still took over the golden loops around the necklace, the man didn’t care.

  Taking the deeply blue gem closer to his face and inspecting it deeply for a while, despite finding nothing special about the gleam it gave off from within, it was clearly the reason for the blue film easily defending his attack.

  So, Lutiel swiftly took off his armor plate, putting on the chain before once more covering himself with the metal.

  Promptly standing up, his straight face reverberated through the room, swiftly approaching Filvind’s body before glancing at his lifeless feet.

  Grabbing the fattened piece of flesh, he left a trail of blood along the carpet, distinctly visible despite the similar shades. Steadily, Lutiel went back to the first body, silently tossing the pope beside his dead father, only to stand frozen in place, staring at their dead selves before his mind shifted away, slowly seeking inside.

  Even as the doors ahead opened eventually, with the frightened figures of four guards inviting themselves to him, Lutiel took his sword out plainly, lightly glancing at them mostly periodically. Despite fighting off the two humans and two demons with an absent mind though, his sword easily penetrated through their plates, all while the man immured himself away.

  -

  A sweltering wind swept past the little boy, his arm smearing the forehead briefly as he waited silently in front of the shabby doors. Keeping his legs steady, an eager smile rested on his face while the right arm kept hidden behind his back.

  Finally, just as he was about to knock on the doors once more, they creaked away, revealing a staggering figure, at least in his eyes. Still, lighting up with a broad smile as he saw the dark-haired lady in front of him, the boy was swiftly taken aback, his figure flinching suddenly as the lady briskly lowered herself.

  Tightly sinking her hands around his body, she tensed her palm especially around his head. Through faint sniffs, she quickly spoke out. “Where were you, Lutiel? I searched through the whole village for you,” she said, trembling slightly.

  Regardless, despite her worries, the boy only giggled lightly. “Hehe, I’m sorry mom,” he said, the lady quickly tightening her grasp of him.

  “What is this?” However, she suddenly asked, a bit startled as she felt something around his back.

  “Hehe, look, mom. I caught it all by myself. I’m not even grazed slightly,” he exclaimed, making the girl step away as he saw the corpse of a rabbit hiding behind. However, the boy could only frown slightly, a reaction coming from her that he didn’t expect.

  Briskly grabbing the animal away, she also led him inside their small, wooden hut, glancing through the village whilst biting her lips. Regardless, getting him to the interior, she suddenly knelt on the ground before the open door, glancing directly at him as her hands rested on his small shoulders

  “Mom will be gone for a moment, alright? Come here,” she said, hugging his flustered face.

  “Mom? Why aren’t you happy? You always say we don’t have money for more food, no? I caught it for us,” he said, however, she could only sigh faintly before shaking her head.

  “Every creature is Lucien's child, honey, you can’t just kill them without the priests’ permission,” she said, only to glance to the side again, quietly biting her lip. “Okay, get inside and hide in the bed. Don’t go out until I come back, okay?” She asked, however, she closed the doors without him ever agreeing in any way.

  The boy simply stood behind the doors, a warm shade descending through the little window on the side as he fidgeted with his fingers.

  Standing there, without moving, he waited. Even as the sun had fully swept its glory through the horizons, he stood in the dark, waiting patiently for his mother to come back.

  Countless breaths of his had passed, however, there was no sight of the lady. Growing ever nervous as he heard nothing but the silence, the boy couldn’t help but tremble meekly.

  Finally, he flinched, readying his arm to head for the handle close to his head. Yet, just as he began, his face shuddered, hearing faint murmurs from beyond his house. Steadily, they grew. From little whispers, they ascended into shouts, eventually shattering through his ears before the boy opened the doors vehemently.

  A sudden shade inscribed itself in his eyes, flames describing his pupils as the boy stared with wide eyes, watching the countless people stand with torches, surrounding a certain lady in the very middle of the village.

  Clasped to a wide, wooden trunk standing upright, with her arms raised above her head, the woman’s fearsome image rang out to the boy, especially her bloodied face.

  “NOOOOO!!!” The boy screamed sharply, quickly running towards the people gathered there. Constantly seeing as her skin was being ripped apart with the rocks they were throwing at her, his throat lingered on the brink of shattering, however, none of the villagers listened to his woes.

  Most, at least.

  Just as he tried to move through the masses, his small figure was apprehended, grabbed by the arms as two robed priests appeared beside him.

  “What are you doing to her?! STOP IT!” He bellowed with a breaking voice, finally gaining his mother’s attention.

  Between his cries and sobs, she glanced at him calmly, despite the mutilated face of hers. As though the world stopped for just the two of them, none of the villagers’ shouts reverberated in the space, only their two voices blossoming.

  With harsh breathing, her face finally parted the cut lips. “Haa, haa, Lutiel, do you see what they did with me? Argh!” Dark blood emptied itself from the mouth, however, she followed on with the words, her dull, blue eyes staring deeply into her son.

  “It’s not your fault, Lutiel, just please,” she said between the unsteady breaths, slowly losing grasp of herself. “... remember me, please. … May your dreams be the sweetest,” the woman said, widening her eyes abruptly whilst staring down.

  Cutting through the air with a whistle guiding it, a sharp arrow plundered through her chest, making the boy’s eyes open wide whilst his staggered mouth screamed.

  “NOOOOOO! MOM!” He wailed sharply, his body kept in the priests’ hands, wriggling away to no avail.

  -