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Chapter 22 - Ashes of Mercy

Serco's POV – Starting That Saturday:

"I just wanted to hear your voice. Bye now," I said, ending the call quickly.

"You're seriously calling your girlfriend right now?" the Afarion beneath my foot complained. His tone was flat, annoyed—probably because I currently had his neck pinned to the cement floor.

"Why have the attacks become more frequent?" I asked instead, ignoring him. "What are you planning?"

"Are you just gonna igno—" I pressed my foot down harder, cutting off his words in a strangled gag.

"I ask the questions. You answer them."

His powers—fire, like mine—flared in resistance. But his affinity was weaker. Much weaker.

"We… we…" he rasped. "I can't say."

I snapped my fingers, engulfing his body in flame. His scream was loud—piercing—but we were far from the city. No one would hear.

When I extinguished the fire, I siphoned the extra heat from his body to reduce the pain—just enough for him to keep talking.

"Care to try again?" I offered coolly.

"It's you! We want you!" he cried. I lifted my foot, and he immediately scrambled back. His wings were gone—torn off, the stumps cauterized. He stared at me with charred skin and wild, panicked eyes.

"You… You're not a regular Guardian. You're a high-ranking Infaniyan. We were ordered to study your limits… your weaknesses…"

I scoffed. So, they were getting organized. Maybe the King of Afaria has caught on to my identity...

"Please… Let me go," he begged.

"How old are you?" I asked, leaning down in front of him. He flinched back.

"I'm… 142."

"And on Afaria, you kill and torture humans annually. It's considered a festive tradition, right?"

"That's not fair!" he cried.

I summoned my rapier from my armband, the tip pressing into his throat.

"Answer. Me."

Blood trickled down his burnt chest. His skin had started to regenerate, albeit slowly.

"Yes… but it's not my choice! The king forces us to take part. If I refuse, I'll be marked a traitor!"

I gave him a cold smile. "You wouldn't rebel against your favorite holiday."

Tears welled in his half-healed eyes. "But—"

I stabbed him in the shoulder. He retaliated with a flame blast, but I absorbed it instantly. He should've known better.

"I didn't ask you a question."

I sliced through his arm and sealed the wound with fire, so it couldn't be reattached. He gritted his teeth, refusing to scream this time.

"Good," I said. "Don't speak unless told."

Even in silence, he cried.

"When I found you, you were attempting to rape one of my citizens." I noted.

He gasped, ready to lie and deny it—but stopped himself. Realizing I hadn't asked him anything. I smirked and added, "I know it's true. I don't need your confirmation."

He began to panic, glancing around for an escape route. There wasn't one. We were deep underground, in a room made for moments exactly like this.

"You failed this time, but how many others were you successful with? How many people have you raped, murdered, or eaten outside of the 140 from your annual rituals?"

"…2,247." He muttered out, honestly. My stomach churned.

"Wow. You kept count. You must have really enjoyed it." I mocked, 

"Please, stop. I'm telling the truth! What more do you want?" he sobbed.

I ignited my blade. "Oops, you spoke... There's nothing you can give me."

I was ready to finish it—until he shouted:

"Wait! The Prince is here! The King's son—the one chosen by the Black Flames!"

I paused. My sword retracted into an armband. "And I've met him!" He rambled out in desperation.

"Do you know his face?" I asked.

He nodded frantically.

I placed a brand on his uncut shoulder, whispering the invocation that bound him.

"This one is my servant. He heeds only my call, or the fire will consume him from within."

The branding pain was mild compared to what he'd already endured. He actually smiled in relief.

"Do you accept?"

"I do. I cannot betray you. I cannot disobey. I cannot harm you."

The brand held. He was telling the truth.

sigh …I miss Akina. I wish we could have spoken longer.

My armband shifted into a dagger. I reopened the sealed wound, carefully reattaching his severed arm. It would take time—but it would heal. Hours later, when he was finally mobile, I escorted him to a cell furnished with a bed.

Twin bed. White sheets. No windows—of course. A chair and a bookshelf with a desk lamp in the corner.

"This is your room," I said. "Bathroom's through that door. Shower. Use it."

He nodded and turned to go.

"One more thing," I added. "Don't leave. Don't contact anyone. Not without my consent."

He flinched but nodded again. I still didn't trust him.

I teleported back to my home, flopped onto my bed, and passed out.

Unfortunately, I'd barely slept ten minutes before the barrier was breached again.

This time: thirteen intruders.

"Oh? The city's Guardian?" one sneered. "Didn't expect this many of us, huh?"

I rolled my eyes, summoning my zweihänder. It gleamed with flame.

"Your numbers are irrelevant."

I lunged, cleaving the first into ash. The others flinched.

"Who's next?"

They shared a look, then charged all at once.

Perfect.

I spun, slicing through the group like a whirlwind. Only one dodged in time. The rest burned from the inside out, their bodies disintegrating into charcoal.

"What… what did you do to them?" the last asked, backing away.

"They've passed on."

I turned to address him—only to feel another breach, across the city.

"I see…"

He tried to flee. My weapon burst into thousands of flaming needles, piercing him from within. His body disintegrated before hitting the ground. The needles reassembled into my armband.

I was too tired for this.

Exhausted, irritable… and now—again—the enemy had reached the center of the city.

Humans gathered on the sidewalks, believing they were at a safe distance.

They weren't.

"We don't have to fight," one Afarion offered. "Just pretend to lose track of us. We'll be gone in a week. No trouble for you."

I sighed. Changed my weapon into bracers. Hand-to-hand it is.

"I'd prefer we fight elsewhere… but none of you are leaving."

"Scatter!" their leader shouted.

I grabbed the closest one by his wings, searing them off and slamming him into the asphalt. Traffic finally halted.

I kicked the next one in the face—he tried to block with his arms. They broke. Then I stomped down on his nose.

One by one, I threw them into the crater I'd made.

I saved the leader for last.

"All I wanted… was a MOTHER. F***ING. NAP!"

He raised an earth wall between us. I reached through it, gripped his throat, and burned him slowly—internally—to hide the gore from the crowd.

Only ten in this group. Light work.

As I let his body fall, a news crew approached. I forced a polite smile. Said a few forgettable things. Then teleported what little was left of the survivors into the underground cells I had created.

No doors. Power suppressors buried in the floor. Escape-proof. Mostly.

Finally—sleep.

From that point on, I no longer took prisoners. All others were handled permanently.

Still, even on the mornings when I did sleep…

The first thought in my mind was always Akina.

It happens often, but that day, I acted on it. Her mother was asleep. It was late. I didn't want to teleport into her room uninvited, so I knocked on the window instead.

She rushed to let me in. Locked the door behind her.

It felt like a lifetime since I'd held her.

I fear something greater is coming—something that might keep me from seeing her on simple whims like this.

So, I'll enjoy these quiet moments while I still can.

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