/ The Prime Saga: God Hunter / Chapter 52: Impudent

Chapter 52: Impudent

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Chapter 52 - Impudent.

 

 

The wind slid gently over the desert, lifting thin streams of sand along the dune ridges and scattering them low across the surface. Scattered clouds drifted over the sun now and then, though it had long since passed its zenith, casting sharp, deep shadows between the broken, scorched dunes.

Powerful energy blasts from the Basilisk King had struck here earlier, leaving behind charred patches and melted sand. Through the infrequent gaps in the clouds, narrow rays of sunlight streamed down, falling in slanted bands across the shattered terrain.

The desert held its usual silence, while overhead the calm gave way in only one spot, where the Twelfth Detachment circled above the site of the recent battle on their mounts, the beat of wings the only sound over that stretch of sky.

Each of them, holding steady in the saddle, stared down with undisguised astonishment, not believing their own eyes.

Far below them, atop one of the dunes, an empty crater gaped, left by the impact of some large body. Aren stood beside it, in torn leather armor that covered skin and body untouched by injury. He stood straight, studying the crater calmly, then let out a breath and turned, raising his head toward the riders circling above him.

Irvis paused, then steered his mount downward. Anna and the rest of the squad watched him go with eyes full of astonishment before following after.

Aren stayed still as Irvis's giant hawk landed before him in a sharp gust of wind, raising rings of sand around his feet and tousling his hair along with the torn strips of cloth and leather armor.

The hawk straightened, casting its shadow over Aren, while Irvis dropped down onto the sand, then moved slowly closer.

They stood facing each other in complete silence, staring straight into each other's eyes, while Irvis kept his expression serious, trying to find answers in Aren's gaze alone.

The rest of the squad came down after him, some leaping from their mounts mid-flight, and stopped behind Irvis in a tight cluster.

"Thanks for hel…"

"Who are you?" Irvis snapped.

Aren faltered, his gaze sliding first to Irvis, then to the men behind him, whose faces showed open wariness and distrust.

"My name is Aren. I'm a traveler from the Kingdom of Waldruhm."

Irvis's men exchanged glances behind his back, while he himself drew his brows together slightly, narrowing his eyes at Aren.

"Waldruhm?.. What business brings you to Helios?.. No one told me we were expecting a representative from Waldruhm."

"I told you, I'm just a traveler… who wants to see the world and… Helios is my first stop," Aren replied.

Irvis smirked, glancing sideways at the crater left by the fall of the Basilisk King's body.

"A traveler, then… not even a seeker…" Irvis muttered.

"The age of travelers and legendary wanderings is over. No one travels these days just to 'see the world,' as you put it, because the world itself has become a very different place since the Aisengard Incident. Wandering between nations means condemning yourself to extreme danger, risking annihilation right at the border. Especially in Helios. So tell me…" Irvis went on.

The whole squad behind him went rigid, all at once understanding what to brace for, and the men reached for their photocyte hilts, materializing glowing blades before each of them dropped into a combat stance.

"…what is a man capable of killing a beast-god doing on our land? What is your real reason for heading into the Republic?" Irvis finished, his gaze darkening.

Aren kept looking straight into Irvis's eyes, holding the pause.

"I'm here because I'm looking for answers, and I want to learn."

A crosswind passed between them, lifting waves of sand and tousling both their hair.

Irvis kept staring into Aren's eyes, trying to catch some hidden trick in them.

"Answers to what?" Irvis asked.

"That I can't tell you."

"Answer when you're spoken to", Anna snapped, stepping aside and leveling her blade at Aren.

Aren shifted his gaze from Anna's blade back to Irvis's eyes.

"I have an official letter from the Queen, confirming my good intentions, the absence of any ill will, and my purpose here", he said, reaching for his battered pouch.

In the same instant, three of the squad's fighters appeared on either side of Aren in a sharp gust of wind from their burst of speed, and laid their blades against his throat.

Aren froze, his face tense and nervous, while Irvis calmly stepped closer and reached into the pouch himself, pulling out a partially torn scroll.

Aren grew even more nervous, seeing that the scroll had been damaged in his fight, so that holes showed through it as it unrolled, but Irvis kept reading, while Aren couldn't move a single muscle, surrounded on all sides by Helios's warriors.

Done reading, Irvis lifted his eyes to Aren, then rolled the scroll back up without looking away from him.

"If you're from Waldruhm, then what are these rune tattoos on your body? I don't recall the people of that kingdom marking their skin with runes, the way it's done in the Shogunate", Irvis asked.

Aren tensed slightly, sensing they wouldn't like the answer.

"It's... I've had them since birth..."

Anna clicked her tongue loudly, stepping forward, sharp indignation flashing across her face.

"Enough with the nonsense!"

Irvis immediately seized her shoulder, shoving her back roughly.

"Stand down", Irvis ordered, his tone hard.

"But Lieutenant, you can see he's taking us for idiots!"

"Don't make me repeat myself, Sergeant", the lieutenant answered, his look cold and severe.

Anna froze, realizing she'd crossed a line, and stepped back, her gaze averted.

Irvis turned his gaze back to Aren, reading no lie in him.

Without turning his head, the lieutenant held the scroll out to the side, toward where Olen stood.

"Olen, take the letter and head to headquarters. Report everything you've seen to Archon Lucia and hand her the scroll. We'll follow after."

"Yes, Lieutenant", Olen answered, taking the scroll and holding his gaze on Aren for a moment before turning, mounting his hawk, and rising into the air, setting a course south.

Irvis, in turn, drew a small, elongated metal device from his pouch, about the size of two folded fingers, with a photocyte set in the center.

"Hold your hands out in front of you, parallel", Irvis ordered.

Aren hesitated a moment, then slowly raised his hands.

Irvis positioned the device between Aren's wrists, then activated the photocyte with his own magic. Light energy materialized from both sides of the device with a sharp snap, closing into rings around his wrists and forming magical shackles.

Aren looked mildly surprised, then accepted he had no other way out.

 

 

Earlier, in Midar…

The room was filled with even daylight pouring through tall glass windows and an open panoramic door leading onto a balcony. White walls reflected the light in a soft, diffuse glow, while a sheer curtain by the balcony door swayed in a light draft, its lower edge brushing the polished marble floor.

Outside came the quiet splash of water from a small waterfall, flowing into a little pool amid dense greenery and flowers, around which a private garden spread, with benches and narrow paths. Young men and women in weightless white robes strolled unhurriedly through the garden, exchanging quiet words in soft tones.

Every detail of the place breathed serenity and peace, cleanliness and a steady, almost tangible light.

From deep within the room came the quiet run of piano keys. A girl sat at the instrument in a light, snow-white dress, her golden hair falling to the floor in long, straight strands.

Her thin fingers moved across the keys with precise grace, building a tranquil melody that slowly drew the listener into a sensuous numbness, sharpening their awareness of their own deep feelings.

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The girl's silver skin shimmered faintly under the sunlight with a pearled sheen, and the golden irises of her eyes, framed by long snow-white lashes, gave her soft, refined face the features of an otherworldly beauty and an absolute, feminine fragility.

A layered dress of airy, flowing fabric wrapped her figure in soft folds, emphasizing not so much the slenderness of her body as its fragility and delicacy.

As she played on, her hands moved across the keys in smooth, gliding motions, while the hem of her dress and the edge of the curtain by the balcony door swayed in time with the melody, creating the sense that the very air around her moved in rhythm with her.

The melody flowed in measured waves, sinking now into a low, restrained register, now rising again into bright, high notes, giving the room a sense of slow breathing stretched across many long bars.

Each note hung in the air a moment longer than it should have before dissolving into the next, so that time itself seemed to move slower in the room than it did outside.

The voices in the garden gradually fell silent, one by one, until the conversations gave way to complete quiet.

The people outside broke off their talk and their movement, turning toward the open balcony doors, where the melody seemed to them like something touched by the divine.

When the girl slowly brought the piece to an end, her fingers came to rest gently on the keys, and she folded her hands carefully in her lap.

Her loose hair slipped forward off her shoulder, falling in strands across the keyboard.

Outside, quiet applause rose from listeners who couldn't see her from the garden, though the sound of their approval carried clearly into the room.

Then a man's voice came from the doorway.

"You finally finished it", the man said, in a warm, tender tone.

The girl turned her head and saw the Archon of Light, Aurelius Bright, standing in the doorway.

"Hello, Father. Don't you have services at the Temple today?" the girl answered.

The Archon walked into the room with a smile, coming close to his daughter and gently smoothing a stray strand of her hair.

"I was just on my way there, but before that I wanted to see how my beloved, beautiful daughter was doing."

The girl smiled warmly, though her gaze held a weary softness, touched with faint notes of sadness.

"Felicia… I can see something's troubling you…" Aurelius added, beginning to carefully braid the side strands of her hair.

"I… I don't quite understand it myself yet…" she answered.

"Then tell me everything you feel."

"I feel… like I'm not where I should be… like everything inside my chest is tangled and can't settle… and even though I carry out all my duties as your daughter… I still feel lost, and… and… I don't know… even after finishing this melody… I still couldn't fully understand those deep feelings tearing at my heart…"

Aurelius placed his palm against his daughter's cheek, gently lifting her face to his.

"Felicia… I understand you didn't choose to be born the daughter of the Archon of Light, and I see how the weight of duty and responsibility presses on your shoulders… and still, your fate and your role in this world aren't fixed. What you were born as only lays the foundation for what you'll become after… and it's for you alone to decide who you want to be… and I'm certain the Sun God has already blessed you in whatever you decide. So if something is troubling you now, please, know that I will support whatever you choose, because I know your soul and your mind were blessed by our god, and so it will surely be the right choice… even if it changes your life completely."

Felicia pressed her lips together slightly, lowering her eyes, then covered her father's hand with her own and rubbed her cheek gently against it.

"Come to the temple tomorrow morning. We'll pray to the Sun God together, all right?"

"All right, Father."

The Archon smiled warmly, then slowly bent down and pressed his lips to his daughter's forehead before leaving the room.

Felicia turned her gaze back to the piano, on whose glossy white surface her own reflection showed, along with the golden gleam of her eyes, while the wind kept stirring the folds of the curtain by the balcony door.

 

 

Leaving the room, the Archon continued down the corridor with a light smile, where young men and elderly attendants in white robes bowed lightly, murmuring "Great Archon," which he met with a friendly, approving nod, while the light guards lining the corridor walls straightened as he passed.

Stopping by a tall window, he looked out over Midar spread below, then let out a slow breath, the same soft smile still on his face.

His whole body tensed a moment later, and the golden irises of his eyes flared with a brief magical light.

He pressed a palm to his chest, feeling his body respond to a shift in the energy balance within Helios.

"It can't be…" he murmured, his face wary.

He turned sharply to one of the guards.

"Find Niavey, now!"

The guard rushed off down the corridor in surprise, having never before seen the Archon in such a state.

A short while later, an advisor named Niavey Yun stepped out onto an open platform rising above the Archon's estate, and found Aurelius standing at its center.

Niavey looked to be a middle-aged man with sharp features, smooth-shaven skin, and a bald head. He was of average height and had the same silver skin and yellow eyes as the rest of the Heliosians.

"Aurelius! What's wrong?" the advisor asked.

"Send an urgent message to Solum. Have them reinforce their positions and the patrol on the northern border," the Archon answered, still standing with his back to Niavey, one hand raised.

"But why? Are we under threat?" Niavey asked.

"I don't know. But the balance in the desert has been disturbed… and I'm afraid one of the beast-gods is dead", the Archon answered.

Niavey froze in place, struggling visibly to find the strength to answer.

"B-but… wait… on the northern side, isn't that… the Basilisk King…"

The Archon kept his hand raised, then spoke in a deep voice: "Elphiderum… Nozarus!"

The silence held for several long seconds before a low, drawn-out sound, like the call of a whale, came down from the sky, and a massive white flying whale swooped toward the platform.

Aurelius walked up to it and pressed a palm to its side, gazing into the creature's large eye, then touched his forehead to it.

With a sharp, high leap, he sprang onto the whale's back, then set off toward the golden desert as its long, drawn-out call rang out.

Niavey watched him go, still not quite believing what he'd heard, then turned sharply and strode off at a quick pace toward his office.

 

 

Later, the outline of Solum had already come into view over the horizon, as Olen's hawk began its descent over the main square of the military-industrial port.

The square greeted arrivals with a scattering of glowing paving stones, laid out in strict geometric lines and ringed along its perimeter by tall watchtowers topped with photocyte beacons.

Combat tethers for mounts stood in rows along the walls, where griffons, giant cobras, and predatory vultures waited for their riders, each chained by a short leash to rings driven into the stone.

Even ranks of soldiers marched across part of the square, drilling synchronized strikes with photocyte blades under the sharp commands of their instructors, while further off, engineering platforms hummed, hauling cargo containers between the warehouse hangars.

Olen's hawk touched down on the landing platform, then folded its wings in a sharp motion that raised a brief swirl of dust around it.

Olen dropped down onto the stones, keeping a firm hold on the damaged scroll, then set off toward the central headquarters building at a quick pace, passing rows of soldiers who followed him with brief glances.

At the entrance, two sentries stopped him, crossing their blades in front of their chests.

"State your business", one of them demanded.

"Urgent report for Archon Lucia. Orders of Lieutenant Irvis Rind", Olen answered, holding out the scroll.

The sentry glanced briefly at the damaged seal, then exchanged a quick look with his partner, and the two of them stepped aside, letting Olen through into the building.

 

 

Lucia stood leaning against the edge of her desk, listening to Olen's report with an unreadable expression.

When he finished, she shifted her gaze first to the messenger himself, then to the admiral, standing a little to the side with his arms crossed over his chest.

"This Aren… from Waldruhm… killed the Basilisk King?.." Lucia repeated slowly.

Olen nodded nervously, not daring to say a word in response.

Lucia set the letter down on the edge of the desk, then walked forward past Olen, heading straight for the corridor. Olen shot the admiral a confused glance, but his face remained just as unreadable as Lucia's.

The admiral held his gaze on Olen for a couple of seconds, then slowly turned his head toward the door and followed the Archon of War with a firm stride.

Olen stood a moment longer, unsure what was expected of him now, before tearing off after the two of them.

Lucia was striding down the corridor, hard and tense, when one of the garrison's soldiers ran up to her.

"Great Archon, there's a letter for you…"

"NOT NOW." she answered curtly, continuing forward and leaving the messenger behind.

"It's from the Archon of Light!" the messenger added, raising his voice.

Lucia stopped short, closing her eyes and trying to hold back the irritation rising on her face, then let out a slow breath and turned, holding out her hand.

The messenger ran up and placed the letter in her palm, and she tore it open along the edge at once, scanning it quickly.

"Fuck", she muttered.

"What's wrong?" asked Admiral Cassius Vern.

"Looks like it's all true. Aurelius ordered the garrison and patrol reinforced on the northern border. He must have sensed that one of the beast-gods is dead."

"O-one of the beast-gods… is dead?..." the messenger repeated, frightened, and all three answered him with nothing but a cold look before Lucia turned and continued down the corridor.

Stepping out onto Solum's main square, Lucia saw crowds of soldiers gathering from every direction, while at the same moment the Twelfth Detachment touched down on the landing platform from the sky.

The crowd parted before the Archon, the admiral, and Olen, clearing a path to the center of the square, while Irvis and the rest of the squad dropped down from their mounts.

Irvis approached first and stood before Lucia, giving a silent bow, then stepped aside, revealing Aren behind him, standing in shackles of light, his back to her, completely absorbed in taking in the square around him.

"Wow… would you look at that…" Aren muttered, while the admiral and Irvis exchanged astonished glances, and Lucia's face filled with mounting irritation.

"Hey, you! Turn around!" Lucia barked.

Aren turned, looking at her and the tight ring of warriors around him in surprise.

"Oh… uh… hello", Aren answered, dropping to one knee and bowing his head.

The people nearby exchanged glances, since in Helios a simple shallow bow was enough to greet an Archon.

"Stand." Lucia ordered.

Aren rose and stood silently watching her.

The Archon strode forward, stopping right in front of Aren and looking his body over pointedly, from head to toe.

"Aren of Waldruhm, is that right?" she asked.

"Y-yes."

"A traveler, then… covered in rune tattoos… come to learn", she went on.

"Yes…"

"Mhm", Lucia muttered, nodding and looking away.

She stepped closer a moment later, leaning in close to his ear and lowering her voice to a whisper.

"Did you kill the Basilisk King?"

"You mean the black one, with wings?...Yeah, I really almost di—" Aren began, but in the next instant Lucia closed her fingers sharply around his throat, then lifted his whole body off the ground with one hand.

"You damned impudent bastard… do you even understand what you've done?..." Lucia snarled.

Aren could barely draw a breath, jerking his shackled hands and trying to reach her with his legs, while Lucia's grip stayed unmoving, absolutely unshakable.

"The whole balance on the northern border is broken, all because YOU, an outsider NOBODY INVITED and NOBODY WANTED HERE, DRAGGED YOUR ASS ONTO OUR LAND!"

Aren struggled to force out even a word, but the crushing pressure on his throat wouldn't let a sound out of his chest.

"Lucia… but the Queen's letter…" Irvis began.

"I DON'T GIVE A DAMN WHAT EDITH WROTE! THIS BASTARD ALREADY BROKE THE TERMS THE QUEEN VOUCHED FOR! AND I WON'T HAVE SOME POTENTIAL THREAT TO OUR SECURITY WANDERING LOOSE IN OUR REPUBLIC!" Lucia swore.

In the next instant, Aren abruptly released the Ursus-paw energy claw from beneath his shoulder blades and swung it toward Lucia, but she stopped the strike with ease using her free hand, sending a wave of displaced air rolling through the whole crowd around them.

Everyone stared in shock at the huge, translucent claw of blue magical energy growing straight out from beneath Aren's shoulder blades, while Lucia herself tilted her head slightly to one side, studying it through narrowed eyes.

"Well, well… first you break our balance, and now you attack an Archon?" she said, her voice full of menace.

"Y… you… first…" Aren managed to say.

Lucia clenched her fingers sharply around the energy claw, and its whole structure collapsed and dissolved into the air at once, then she pulled Aren closer with her other hand.

"What did you say?... Say it again."

"Y… you… attacked… first…" Aren said, barely clinging to what air he had left.

Lucia smirked, tightening her grip on his throat harder than before.

"Impudent bastard… I'd have simply thrown you off our land like goddamn garbage, but you caused real damage, and for that, unfortunately for you… you're going to pay," she said, tightening her grip even further, until Aren stopped getting any air at all and began to lose consciousness.