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[Ashborn-B1] 24. Castle Shield

  PART THREE: DEAD MELODIES

  XXIV

  Castle Shield

  Fierce gales rushed across the sky to slam into the hulking shadow leaping through the air. Talons carved through rock as they landed, found their footing, then launched again.

  Gaje’s clawed hand swiped out in the middle of his leap and plucked a stalker out of flight. Rows of horizontal teeth ripped a chunk out of the beast’s flank.

  He’d already thrown the crying beast to the side by the time his talons dug into the side of the mountain again.

  The blood scent was growing stronger with every jump.

  Below him lay piles of discarded corpses. Meat was meat. But the meat of those containing little essence wasn’t worth abandoning his stride for.

  The flatland of the western mountain shuddered as he landed. Kicked up clouds of dust dispersed and revealed his shadow lording over the gate.

  Nearby blood drew his attention.

  There was no mistaking it: someone had slain a herald.

  Admiration rose in his chest. Every drop of blood which wasn’t spilled had been sucked out. The bones were gone, too. He couldn’t imagine anyone besides the Vileblood or Dragonflight brood doing such a splendid job, though from what he’d heard, they weren’t ones to lick a corpse clean this efficiently.

  “You…you’re the Nightmare, aren’t you?”

  In his haste, his senses had passed up the bloodied Dragonflight princess. The dozens of eyes in his skin, normally hidden by his fur, opened, piercing through the veil shielding her status.

  [Bronze Draca - lvl. 24]

  Twenty four…she may have stood a chance had she not been weakened. As it was, this was the perfect opportunity to take out his competition for the Black Temple.

  He faced her, his gaping mouth widening some. “Who…herald?”

  The heiress winced at the guttural noise. “A girl from the Dawnflames.”

  The Dawnflames? They had someone capable of killing a herald? No matter. If they were a true concern, he would’ve heard of them.

  ‘I’ll clean up during the second trial.’

  But first…

  Flaming snakes erupted around the drake. “Don’t even think about it.”

  A lingering breeze ruffled his feathers, making it seem like they were chuckling. Erri stepped back as he stepped forwards, the nails on his feet digging through the stone.

  The figure cresting the ridge behind Erri stopped him in his tracks. Transformed as he was, the newcomer didn’t reach Gaje’s kneecap. But she also barely touched Erri’s waist. A blade twice her size hung from her back, the flat so broad Gaje would have trouble wrapping his talon around it. Short, blonde hair danced back and forth in tune with her steps like the disciple was following an inconceivable tune. She swayed around holes in the ground at the last moment and almost bumped into Erri. Since she showed no sign of moving our the way, Erri stepped to the side with a grimace.

  Gaje’s eyes honed in on who could only be Caelia Vire. Wherever her mind was, it wasn’t here. If there was ever a chance to take her out with a single strike…

  Caelia came within six feet of him. The stirring of his many eyes minimised. Dozens of pupils dilated. His talons twitched…

  Her gaze didn’t fall upon him. Her attention wasn’t that concrete. It was a touch of her consciousness. The fine hairs of a brush over the face.

  Gaje didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. He remained a statue long after Caelia vanished into the gate. Long enough for Erri to use his inattention to rush for the entrance.

  Muscles finally responded, and Gaje stared over his shoulder. The visage of the Vile’s back, his wings spreading before he took flight, slowly replaced that of the gate in his mind.

  ‘A shame you refused.’ The Vile’s words roiled over the mountaintop where Gaje killed the monk. ‘You know where to find me after you change your mind.’

  Despite the strange amount of certainty in the boy’s tone, Gaje hadn’t given it any thought.

  Until now.

  Sell flipped the stamp in her hand like a coin. The sign of authority spun end-over-end until it reached the ceiling, then came back down.

  She watched as it tumbled towards her palm. Like the forces acting on the stamp, most of the events occurring in the universe were laws. The strong grew stronger. The weak waded in the dirt for scraps. But if the universe was truly so cut and dried, long not so many would struggle against their destiny, killing others just to recover their spoils.

  No, she thought, as the stamp almost reached her. Fate was fickle. Ancient forces grew older and no year could pass without a previous heaven-defying hegemon dying. And so, every decade, the Pillars sent their young to their possible deaths. To claw and fight their way up the ladder as so many had done before them.

  Out of a hundred sent, some would die uselessly within their first day. Most would be gobbled up by the bigger players without a thought. A selected few carried the burden and hope of their clans on their back.

  And one, sometimes, could throw a wrench in everyone’s plans.

  The great, amberlite door to her chamber opened, and the gust that followed it slammed her stamp off-course. The sign clattered to the floor. Decim, silent as a shadow, moved to retrieve it. Sell didn’t watch him do so.

  Her gaze was glued to the crystal ball in her hand, where the girl enraged the Dragonflight princess before stepping into the gate.

  “That wasn’t smart of her,” Darius said.

  Sell let the crystal fizzle out. Darius was wearing nothing but some pants. They weren’t even tailor made but what he could’ve picked up at a thriftshop.

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  She didn’t blink. “You bring shame upon my name.”

  Holding out her hand, she dropped the crystal without warning. Underneath Decim’s watchful eyes, it never came close to touching the floor.

  “The girl has guts,” she continued. “Something which cannot be said for others in our clan.”

  “Guts? She’s an uncultured peasant. If she knew the least of what she’d just done, she would’ve wished herself dead as a mercy.”

  The hems of Sell’s dress whispered as she rose. Flames trailed behind her as she came to stand in front of her son. “You have gall showing yourself after so long.” Her spirit rose and cluttered the room, making the chamber feel like a closet.

  Darius gave a strained smile. “My long absence is precisely why I came, Mother.”

  A moment.

  Twin jets of fire flared as Sell scoffed. “Do you think me an imbecile, child?”

  She passed by him. As she did, her eyes lingered where she’d dropped the crystal.

  “Decim,” she said. “Assure that our new prospect has everything she needs for the second test. She has my blessing.”

  Darius stiffened. “You cannot be serious, Mother…we’re divided enough as is!”

  Sell was out the exit. Her ears had no trouble picking up Decim’s speech.

  “By your will, Milady,” the butler bowed. “May I be so presumptuous as to request where you’re headed?”

  “Dinner,” she said, leaving her son to simmer in the dark.

  Red and orange hues shot across the sky.

  They were like falling stars, and as my neck turned to follow them, stalks of grass tickled my ears.

  A whisper sounding like crackling wood in a fireplace came from behind me.

  ‘Ashe.’

  The canopy of the cindertree shadowed me yet there wasn’t a spot of black to be found on the ground. I sat up and placed my hand on its smooth bark. Warm to the touch. Enough so that nerves I didn’t know were tensed relaxed.

  ‘Ashe,’ the whisper came. Stronger, for now we were closer.

  I closed my eyes and simply listened.

  ‘Ashe.’

  The whisper rose in volume.

  ‘Ashe.’

  It rose again. And again. And again.

  ‘…Ashe…Ashe..ASHEasheasheasheasheashe—’

  My eyes shot open and caught a spinning view. Then my head slammed on something hard. What left my mouth first was a groan. Second was a cry because I was hurting everywhere. Third was a cry as well, but because my throat was dry as sandpaper and I sorely needed a drink.

  I rubbed my dome to ease the echoes of pain and screams ringing inside. The floor was straight fucking brick.

  I peered. Brick? It’d been a while since I last saw a floor made from anything besides wood.

  Forcing down the pain, I surveyed my surroundings. What I called stone was polished marble. The white floor interlaced with greyish lines shone in the glistening sunlight sneaking through thick, velvet drapes.

  ‘A…dream?’ Had I dreamt the entirety of the first trial?

  I dragged myself towards the window. Voices crawled up the sides of the building into my room. Ones I confirmed to be disciples once I pushed the blinds aside.

  ‘Where am I?’

  Great walls rose around me, shrouding the view except for the sky, where stars of gold hung suspended, casting the gargantuan chamber in rays like sunlight. My gaze narrowed. What I thought stars seemed lanterns on closer inspection. The backdrop of dark behind them wasn’t space but the crust of the earth.

  We were underground.

  I tried to recall the last thing I remembered…and nearly fell back on my bum. Right. I’d gone through the gate and collapsed on the spot.

  Which meant this must be Castle Shield.

  Vague memories of a sighing boy carrying me down a hill surfaced. I was in a nightgown. My cheeks flushed…but a faint image of a servant undressing me surfaced.

  I sagged back onto bed with a sigh and closed my eyes. I should figure out what was going to happen in the second test as soon as possible.

  But I just couldn’t bring myself to care. I was kaput.

  Bleary eyes stared up at the ceiling. ‘What was that scream?’

  Glancing into the garden revealed nothing but a silent cindertree.

  My head shook. ‘A bath would do me good.’

  Before that, I did manage to force myself to go over my status.

  Location: Everwinter - Mystic Realm

  Time left until end: 60 16:14:55

  Realm Points: 11,790

  Everwinter Ranking: 4

  ‘Rank four…’

  Herald of the Western Mountain. Aberrant Griffin - lvl. 23 x 1 slain. Extra experience gained for killing a higher level enemy. 10,000 RP gained.

  Reward: Title - Herald of the Western Mountain

  ‘10,000 points…No wonder I got that high.’ Still, I wondered who the other three above me were and what they’d done to earn that many points.

  ‘That just shows you’re not there yet.’

  Erri’s words hadn’t escaped me. I needed to benefit from this second test the most that I could.

  I continued through my gains.

  Hidden Quest [Prove Your Worth II] completed.

  Reward: Dragon’s Dogma II

  Dragon’s Dogma II. Strength +10.

  The same type of reward as when I killed the prowler.

  I chuckled. The storm cutter seemed like a lifetime ago, yet barely two days had gone by since I’d nearly killed me.

  ‘If they expect me to kill an enemy twenty levels above me next, that’s going to be a problem.’

  I turned to the next item.

  Title: Herald of the Western Mountain

  Herald of the Western Mountain. You’re a challenger preparing for battle. All experience gained from slaying beasts is increased. Cardinal effect (West): all wind-based abilities enhanced. All stats +3.

  I whistled. Alright. Together with my Reincarnation title, I now had two experience buffs. Shame of the elemental buff, though. Given that it was related to a cardinal direction, would the other directions boost other elements? Perhaps the four of air, water, fire, and earth, which were seen as the four pillars of which all other elements could be derived from.

  There was another notification tied to the title.

  Realm Quest granted: [Lord of the Mountain]!

  Lord of the Mountain. The heralds dominate each corner of the land. However, in the darkest corners of the valley, old beasts whisper of a force even greater than that of the heralds. Should a single challenger bring all heralds to their knees, the King will return.

  Objective: Slay the heralds, collect their spoils, and beckon the Lord of the Mountain.

  Current Progress: 1/4

  My first thought was surprise at this quest existing. No one who mentioned the heralds said anything about a follow-up quest.

  ‘I’ll have to ask Duke or Judith.’

  To that end, I got a move on despite being tired. The disciples below my window were annoying, but there was a reason for their socialising. Forming groups and gathering information but a few of them.

  Before I could so much take a step, someone knocked on the door. I cast my senses beyond the entrance, frowned, and opened. “Can I help you…”

  Standing outside was a girl from Duke’s entourage. The one whose name I forgot because she was so unassuming. She was the type of girl that could blend in on any crowded street.

  “Sharon,” she said and bowed.

  The gesture caught me somewhat off-guard as she’d never offered me such respect before.

  “Ashe?” I extended my hand.

  She didn’t shake it, for her head was still aimed at the floor.

  A moment passed.

  ‘Is she waiting for me?’

  “…you can raise your head,” I tried.

  And indeed, the girl rose and hurried to accept my greeting.

  I was about to ask after her change in demeanour when she rushed over her next words.

  “The Administrator of the Dawnflames is hosting a gathering. They’ll offer rewards based on our performance. Your presence is requested.”

  ‘Requested.’ Not demanded.

  Her choice of words wasn’t an accident. Combined with her change in conduct, it gave me an idea of what’d transpired.

  “Can I freshen up first? I woke up barely twenty minutes ago.”

  She inclined her head. “The meeting is in half an hour. I’ll wait outside.”

  I blinked. The offer to wait inside was on my tongue, but I wasn’t exactly keen on having a stranger in my room.

  ‘Not that I have anything worth stealing.’

  I excused myself and stepped into bath. The shower room was an elegant side-chamber, one again tiled with marble. From a faucet welded into the wall flowed a steady stream of hot water, powered using an essence core.

  ‘This is heaven.’

  As soon as the shower began running, a soft, flowery aroma poured from holes in the ceiling. Closets nearby also contained everything from oils, to soaps for your hair, and powders to touch up your face. The latter were of no interest to me, but I made ginger use of the oils and soaps. All that travelling had a way of burying into your clothes. Speaking of clothes, the robe I’d started with was beyond salvaging. Too much blood. Too many tears. I wasn’t sure how much a tailor would ask me to repair it but buying a new robe was no doubt the better option. For now, I donned a monotone disciple uniform—trousers and overcoat—which’d been left in the closet with the other stuff.

  I was a new person after I stepped out of the shower.

  “Blessed heavens.”

  I’d pay to have access to this at all times.

  Taking the belt from my old robe, I fastened it to my uniform and strapped Red Fang to my hip. I didn’t expect a fight, but leaving home without a weapon was a fool’s endeavour.

  I shut the entrance to my room behind me. “Went as fast as I could. Hope you didn’t wait long.”

  The girl exited her meditative pose. “No, it’s fine—”

  She froze in the midst of rising, her eyes roving over me. Her lips curled, and a flash of an intense emotion passed through her gaze. It was gone as soon as it’d come.

  “Please,” she said, bowing once more, “follow me.”

  I huffed and settled into a leisurely walk.

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