03 / 04 / 2019 - Bezgarz, Khtonres.
"Kghhhh—!!"
The blurry gaze is forced downward towards the whitish ground; he could hardly afford to breathe, and blood flowed down from his mouth and ears. The body is seared.
Grinding sound and white noise as the air is squeezed out of his body, trembling as the bloody lips persisted — his body splintered like dry wood in a structural failure.
But…
'Not… yet…'
The perception stopped, as if submerged under the sea, frozen as he gazed at the ground — senses and pain deafened, treated as a momentary spike in the nervous system.
'Hahhhhhh…'
Taking a breath internally, the bluish-silver expanded in this frozen time, occupying half of the grey area, flickering as information and data flashed by.
'…'
'Even a person as strong as you may not have expected this perhaps…'
'Then again… how could I understand such a language…'
'It's like at the same time language is transmitted, meanings follow along the line…'
'Analysis. Unknown. Survival Rate…. Less than 10%.'
'This pressure alone could kill me…'
Thinking hard, scrambling through all possibilities and the power he could muster at his disposal to solve this situation.
'Analysis. Maroon Door… uncontrollable, passive, and conflict.'
At the same time, he tried to reach deep inside himself — the sound and noise of a chain — but in the end, the door was not opened, even at its mention.
Every usage will cause more harm than good. It burns him from the inside out, as if venting, hating him as a living thing — various noises and whispers cluttering his mind.
Also, the corrosive nature of the shadow pales in comparison to the destructive power of the Maroon Door; it is a double-edged sword.
'Analysis. Dragon Power… uncontrollable, passive, and active.'
A part of my body is crumbling, but the leftover flesh from restoration is not; breathing is possible, albeit with struggle — meaning my body has been repaired and strengthened.
Though… it does not change the fact that there is no offensive capability from this point; I also need a huge amount of energy by consuming monster flesh.
The adaptation is slow, restoration is slow — the capability entirely unknown to him; there is nothing much he can do, and it is uncontrollable in a sense.
'Analysis. Golden White Door, Serpent… uncooperative, aloof, and unknown.'
Serpent is even more impossible to rely on; he didn't know much about its thought process or what it wanted — even he, as a puppet of 'It', could never understand or meet it.
The last time he met 'It' was when he made a deal; then his body was rebuilt, and again he didn't know much about the state of his body now.
It was unclear if, at this moment, it would help him — but he didn't want to gamble in uncertainty, much less depend on someone for his life and death.
'Analysis. Reader… controllable, active.'
His current power as a Reader was still insufficient to combat the threat of this old man, its depth unknown — and how long he could survive under this little trick of his was also unknown.
Then again… since the old man did not kill him and openly pressured him, it meant there was still a way to survive other than confrontation.
As communication was possible, let's hear what this old man wanted to say first.
'No Decision. Neutral Neural Response.'
Like a fish being pulled towards the surface, the ambient noise began to fade, and the senses that had been closed opened up once again; time resumed its movement.
"Hahhhh…."
Sweat trickled down; under the silent pressure, beneath his two hands and knees, the ground cracked like a spider web.
"I've been witnessing you since you came to Khtonres, and fell into Mezakeir…"
The noise strained as he couldn't make out its direction, as if it came from everywhere.
But the old man was still there, silently assessing him by his expressionless face, watching the young boy who was perhaps the same age as his son — or perhaps the same age as the other young dwarves.
Reminded of this, his heart ached; the left hand that gripped the book close to his chest carried the history of Dwarves and the civilisation that once ushered in technology, now silently passed away.
And back to the young boy — his little human figure, no more than a child, who had come with an intention, trembling under his gaze, blood flowing down.
"What is your intention in coming here, young human boy?"
Lowering his gaze, he did not know the boy's name, but he had watched his journey in Mezakeir — from its initial confusion, battered, then learning on its own.
So he was genuinely curious; he wanted to know the answer that would determine his plan for this young man, so he took back his power…
Looking at the breathless figure slumped on the floor, his right hand stroked his white beard downwards, eyes half-lidded.
"Haahhhh… Hahhhh…."
"Hahhhh… So… what… if… I tell… you?"
"I… have… nothing… to talk…."
Stuttered and discontinued, stubborn and persisting — Akane would not reveal a single thing about his family; even if he died here, no one would know anything.
Lifting his head, he squeezed an ugly smile, trembling through his bloody lips, looking at the blurry figure of the old man who had stopped his movement.
"Hmmm…"
But the old man did not pressure him again, and Akane, who had expected what was to come, could only twitch his eyes in silence, watching quietly as the old man hummed.
"On the first day you came… you were stabbed by an Adjustor Puppet, leaving you bleeding, running until you arrived at Inner Pillar."
"Then, as you caught a breath, your body was eroded by a Shadow — and for the second time you were attacked by an Adjustor Puppet once again."
"Not left at that, you were attacked by one of the Moon Guard and then emerged victorious by using the gun in your hand."
"But it cost you something, a wound adding up, and then possession… again you attacked Black Hound, got chased… fought the Gate Guardian and then came down here…"
He shook his head; his face this time was complex as his gaze rested on the boy — devoid of its earlier coldness or indifference — since never in his life had he seen someone quite like this.
In fact, he remembered one thing; lifting his head from the boy, he gazed up at the sky. Back then, when he studied in the Capital on the surface, he had often travelled the world.
'There is one who is the same as him…'
Like a boy in a slum in a Domain of the Human Kingdom — lowering his gaze again to the boy, who still gazed at him as if fearless, which helped him understand a bit of the boy's manner and thought, perhaps.
"Your behaviour speaks of inexperience. You have come here different from those foreigners — in fact… I did not even find their shadow in you…"
"I don't know who you are and what you've been through, boy, but you fight, and you are living like you have nothing to lose… why?"
"Perhaps it is not my place to say this… but perhaps if I have inferred correctly, you are looking for someone, no?"
He watched as the boy's face changed — his smile disappeared, and he turned into sombre indifference, like a broken puppet, no different from those desperate children in the slum.
'A broken boy….'
"If yes, perhaps I could help you and you could help me… You want to reach Althr Baldr, right?"
The boy moved his broken body, gathering himself together in a struggle — like a worm wriggling — until he knelt on two knees, still watching the old man in silence.
He shook his head; though he sympathised with this young boy, he was not a dwarf, and right, this boy still did not trust him — which was understandable.
Letting out a sigh, he turned his body to walk towards his desk. He did not want to lose this boy, who could be a potential helper, but the boy could not be swayed by words alone.
'All in all, I have said what I needed to say…'
"The foreigners that you are looking for are in Althr Baldr below, in the Forging Site. This requires you to go back to the Second Gate…"
"The Second Gate requires a special pass from the Gate Keeper."
No matter what, this boy still needed to go to the Second Gate; until the time came when he found it, this old man would tag along — so there was no loss.
'That foreigner has long been entrenched here; no matter what, this boy will inevitably cross paths with me later…'
"Also—" Turning his body slightly, he looked towards the boy, whose eyes were narrowed as if half-dead, blood flowing from his agape mouth, hands clutching his shoulder.
"You had better hurry, boy… I can sense that outside of Azngur, on the surface of this underground, it is getting lively…"
Looking towards the surface, a coldness flashed; he shook his head once again and turned his body towards the desk, arriving and sitting, ignoring the boy altogether.
…
And Akane, who seemed to have been pardoned, was in great conflict in his mind — a bittersweet feeling, a dilemma and confusion all at once.
'Let's get out of here first…'
He didn't want to think about it here; he needed some fresh air, away from this old man for a moment to process his crashing thoughts.
"Hahhhh… Huppp…"
Holding his breath and gritting his teeth over his broken body once again, he turned and walked back down the corridor he had come from.
His right hand clutched his throbbing shoulder — like a ripple or chain of effects, combined with dizziness and a struggle to breathe; he had nearly died.
Stumbling on his steps, his body swayed until the strong light shone upon his face at the end of the corridor; the breeze picked up once again as he inhaled as much air as he could.
"Hahhh…."
Leaning at the corridor entrance, between the sustaining pillar and the shadowed floor, he let his body slide down, gazing upon the bright road in front of him.
'Dammit, in the end, I'm no different from Ayato, huh?'
As that old man spoke, he had tried to put on a tough act — hoping the old man might reveal some information about what had happened in Khtonres.
'But I didn't expect him to give it so easily…'
He couldn't understand it. That was not what he had expected at all — even though there were little to no parameters for a prediction and possibilities from entirely unknown things.
'I don't have a foundation to judge, which is why I'm surprised, then again…'
His eyes narrowed, slowly recovering from the blur; his lungs still aching, suffocated as if squeezed out — but the blood had dried and stopped flowing.
'…what I am looking for is Althr Baldr, after all… before I even do some exploration, the answer came by itself…'
'But neither can I trust that old man's words, and I am also confused about what to do despite the free hint from him…'
In the end, he was now at a crossroads — the same one Ayato had once faced; perhaps in the past he could carelessly tread through it, but now, with everything at stake.
He could understand a bit why Ayato had been afraid to make a choice.
'It's because there is a stake that I cannot make a choice carelessly…'
'There are many possibilities, but where will the choice lead? What is this illusion of choice? To trust or not to trust?…'
Simply said, what did he need to choose?
His face grimaced as the pain flared up; his shoulder against the cold limestone, a chunk of debris beneath his bare feet.
Then the corner of his mouth upturned after a while, his eyes lowered until halfway closed — as if he wanted to laugh, but cry at the same time.
"It seems, at this crossroads, my will or my mind is to be tested…. Isn't the answer already carved long ago?"
The moment he passed the Border — and by that Trial — he never truly had the said control or perhaps choice. So in the end, what does he have? What can he do?
"That is to do things the best I can do and not let knowledge stifle my wisdom…"
"When I do my best, there will be no regret… which is why I am here, no?"
He was not dead because he had tried hard enough — he had learned, gotten stronger — and apart from the help of the power inside his body, it was also by the willingness to go this far.
Then—
"Let's verify what that old man said, then…"
Propping his body with his left hand, despite the throbbing pain and his bad condition, he still needed to do something — for he could still do his best, even without a choice.
….
Four hours later, halfway to the Second Gate.
'Upper swing. Left dash. Rotate swing.'
Swishhhh
Momentarily, his eyes narrowed, capturing the endless mass of swarm; seeing that this was the right time, he decisively activated his ability mid-act.
Under the sea, surrounded by ambience, back to familiar feelings — deaf senses, a price worth paying for predicting seconds into the future.
'Trouble once more, I can't see the end of this swarm.'
'It's been one hour since I've been blocked by this mass of swarm that came from nowhere…'
He remembered that after slaying some stray Black Hound without injury, he had been quite pleased with his growth, managing to take their flesh as a supplement for his recovery.
But who would have thought he would be ambushed halfway by a bunch of these little imp-like monkeys?
It was not so much a focus right now — because what he had captured was the source of his current desperation.
In his frozen gaze, flickering — captured was a cluster of imps at the back of their kin, surrounding a broken body that had been slashed.
They had long, synthetic arms, hunched bodies, and oval heads coated in fur — not much different from a normal monkey, but…
'They rebuild once again… and…'
Constantly rotating, analysing — or perhaps thinking. They grabbed the remains of what was inside the fur: endoskeleton, steel frame, gears, and a steel core.
So that was it — this type of enemy truly did trouble him. 'Although I'm a layman, skill can be compensated with enough competence.'
'No Decision. Ongoing Firing Response.'
Pulled back to the surface, to this world once more — that was running — his hands moved according to the preplanned motion, intending to cut the head of the monkey standing in front of him.
WAK!
WAK!
WAK!
But then he felt something grab his hands from the side, mid-air — they couldn't move at all.
'What…?'
Under his incredulous gaze, to the right, his body lurched forward by force, and his left hand, by instinct, quickly moved to pull away the monkey hands from the right, but then…
'Again?'
His head snapped left as it was being pulled by monkeys from that side — danger — snapping back to the front, his hands were wrapped.
"KGHHH—!!"
WAK!
WAK!
Grimacing, he could feel a storm of cold steel in his stomach; blood flowed from his mouth as he spat blood and acid.
Gritting his teeth, he lifted his head and clenched his hands — relaxing them for a second, letting them be pulled backwards by the monkeys — then…
"HAAHHHHH—!!!"
Roaring, he suddenly swung his arms with force and rotated his body. Muscles strained as pain jolted through his whole body, carrying the weight of two monkeys in his palms.
Swoosh
Swoosh
Like a helicopter, he used the weight in his arms to carve a path and clear the area; the monkeys were helpless to avoid it, endless hooting filling his ears.
Through his bloody lips and teeth, his head dizzy, the breeze swayed his hair — he couldn't suddenly stop himself, but slowly, his strained thin arms worked to slow the force.
"HAahhhh…. Hahhh…"
'A chance!'
Knowing his time, he lowered his body, trying hard to stay in place as his head swayed from dizziness, the world doubling before his eyes as he gazed at the ground.
'This time should be the end, no?'
Let him verify what he had learned from the earlier confrontation.
Left hand trembling, he groped towards his back, as the raw flesh was strung together like a sausage.
Grabbing the tender meat, the corner of his mouth upturned; he lifted his head, yanking the raw dark flesh hard — a splatter of blood flowing even through his palm.
Mouth agape as hot white breath escaped, through the narrow slits of his eyes, he saw and had to make sure they were looking at him, baring his teeth.
A soft crunch as metallic blood burst in his mouth — the taste of iron and rust; there was no longer a need to resist. Holding the meat with his left hand at his mouth,
He chewed the rubber-like flesh, then, without warning, dashed towards them — without much looking, he planted his feet and spun his body.
Three heads flew as the Silver Dagger swung with force; his hands felt free, slightly bent, and with the blade below his fist, it cut through their necks in a horizontal line like plastic.
Facing them as before, he dashed back with one planted foot after the rotation, hands braced in place, then back to his position, watching their reaction.
His mouth was still chewing on one of the three pieces of flesh left on his body.
'This should be enough…'
WAK!
WAK!
WAK!
They tilted their heads — not caring about their companions fallen on the ground — and exchanged glances, looking between him and the remains of their kin.
He did nothing, staying silent, his gaze heavy but narrowed; the hands gripping the silver dagger had quietly tightened. Once more, he took a bite of the raw flesh in his left hand.
Then they seemed to reach a consensus under his gaze.
WAK!
WAK!
'That's it…'
His gaze opened wide, the grip loosening as he witnessed them. The long hands took the remains of their kin and — mimicking him — ate the fur, gears, and machinery of their own.
Simultaneously, all around him — hidden in transport cars, at the sides of buildings, behind trees — they emerged, and after looking at each other, began fighting and devouring.
'This is the best chance…'
Looking left and right, in an open square surrounded by a circle of trees, he tried to find high ground.
'Got you…'
Looking at a transport car, he turned and dashed step by step, approaching, jumping, and arrived at the roof.
Reflected in his dim gaze was a sea of monkeys — chaos — different from the coordinated learning of before; and now, someone must be controlling this, no?
His gaze scanned left and right; he even spun his body around, perception being sampled rapidly, filling his mind.
Not stopping, his body danced above the roof of the transport car with a clanking sound as his bare feet stepped on the cold metal.
His gaze flickered bluish-silver, and within minutes, he had what he needed.
The movement stopped — facing the direction of a building encroached by vines, abandoned, they appeared like dominoes in a sea of forest.
"It's you…"
Muttering through his bloody lips, his head tilted to the right, hair swayed by the breeze as the two locked gazes — sensing the danger.
'Run away, huh? You think you could run…'
Under his gaze, no longer able to control the swarm, it turned its body and began to run through the forest, waving its hands just like a monkey.
"Huhhhh…."
Exhaling and then inhaling, he stretched his left leg forward to the edge of the car roof.
Raising his left hand to the sky — a shadow falling to shield his face at the same time — his right hand held the dagger like a javelin, index and thumb pinching the cold grip.
The breeze stopped, frozen alongside his body, but the gaze unchanged — frames of the future revealed for him, overlapping as if fulfilling a prediction.
'Calculating wind direction. Direction of movement. Travel distance.'
'Clear. Locked On. Decision. Neural Firing Response!'
'Deactivate!'
The breeze resumed its movement, and sunlight shone brightly once again as he returned to the world.
"One… Two…!"
Swooosh
His hand swung, feeling and resisting the wind — a little heat in his palm — and in that moment, the grip released.
Swhick
Under his gaze, the Silver Dagger flew smoothly and disappeared among the sea of forest. He did not know whether it had hit or not, but…
Thump
Looking around, a sound drifted to his ears as all the monkeys simultaneously stiffened in their movement, frozen like statues.