Chapter 54
Chapter Fifty-Four
Alderian found himself surrounded by at least fifteen experienced warriors, all equipped with top-tier weapons.
“Karivan!” he shouted, and the sword leapt from his belt, glowing incandescent. The vivid color of its flames startled his opponents, but they did not seem surprised. They had already witnessed the public combat and had been warned about this opponent.
Alderian had no time to waste.
He didn’t wait for them to get too close; he needed to draw the combat away from Augustine.
Employing his alchemical transmutation, he dealt the first sudden blow to the nearest warrior.
His unpredictable, deadly dance was effective enough to hold them back, though he failed to cause substantial damage, as most of his attacks were defensive to guard the perimeter surrounding Augustine.
While he couldn’t keep her constantly in his sights, she was safe, though once again tormented by her Shadows. What could they be screaming at her? He couldn’t stop to ask.
It was time to fight in earnest. He rose a couple of meters above the ground and threw himself into a wild, precise onslaught.
He intentionally avoided attacking vital points, but Karivan was eager to taste blood—he could feel it vibrating with excitement—and he satisfied its desires.
Despite himself, the heat of battle filled him with an adrenaline rush that, even under the current circumstances, felt pleasant to him.
When his Silver Thread tightened, he turned fully to look at Augustine.
From the same corridor through which they had entered, reinforcements were coming from the outside.
The distraction cost him; he took a heavy impact to his side that made him lose his balance.
He was about to perform a quick shift using his transmutation when he saw Augustine mutter something.
From her feet, Shadows emerged, crawling like aquatic serpents swimming across the silver floor.
No one expected them, so none of the warriors noticed them.
One by one, they were absorbed without making a single sound.
He couldn’t say if they had been devoured, but they had at least been transported to another plane or dimension.
Augustine looked at the empty corridor, impassive. She made a slight movement with her hand, and the Shadows returned to her feet as silently as they had emerged. Alderian felt a shiver run down his spine. His woman was to be feared.
The door leading to the Great Hall of the High Council burst open. The Guardian of the Threads crossed the threshold, her face contorted.
“Who was it?” she exclaimed in a strangled voice.
She was followed closely by the Guardian of Order who, with a sour expression, observed the fallen warriors.
The scene was, indeed, confusing: a dozen defeated soldiers with silver blood pouring from their open wounds, Alderian standing in the middle of the chaos, bringing unthinkable colors to the achromatic A’aru, while Augustine waited to one side like a silent spectator.
“Was it you, little savage?” the Guardian asked, approaching Alderian.
Alderian tilted his head. What was she talking about?
“After all, you are a serial killer. You have eliminated nine Threads without even hesitating… Guardian of Order! Your Sovereignty, your decision!” she bellowed furiously, crying out for justice.
Alderian glanced discreetly at Augustine, uneasy about how she might react. He was reassured to see her imperturbable, apparently not understanding the implication of what was happening.
“Whatever has happened here will only get worse,” Alderian threatened.
“Augustine must return to the human world. Her extraction was forced, irregular, and completely arbitrary. Guardian of Order! Whatever sentence is imposed on me, remember the injustice that has been done to my human. Neither as a human nor as an A’aruin does she deserve to be in the middle of this conflict.
She does not belong to this dimension yet!
Not while her human body still breathes. ”
“How touching,” the Guardian of Order mocked. “Don’t tell me she is innocent. Perhaps now she is a soul in pain, but before, she was certainly up to something.”
“If you think I will make even the slightest effort to save her Silver Thread, you are mistaken,” the Guardian of the Threads countered, stepping closer. “Though if I did, there would be a price you would have to pay.”
Alderian stood on guard.
“A word of advice,” the Guardian continued, smiling sensually. “Keep your hand at the level of your eyes.”
He didn’t understand what she meant until a White Thread emerged like a whip from her hand, coiling around his neck and strangling him. The contact of that thread was cold, metallic bristles.
“What are you doing, Guardian of the Threads?” the Guardian of Oblivion rebuked, having remained inside the Great Hall until that moment.
“I will not eliminate this little Savage’s Thread. I will dominate it. He will be mine, and you will see how I subject him to my will!” she exclaimed with fervor.
The Thread was painfully penetrating his skin, unable to break it or loosen its pressure.
“Your precious human may live, Alderian. Rejoice! I will tie her with someone worthy. And you… you too shall have a worthy companion.”
“Stop!” the child pleaded.
“My Sovereignty! My Rules!” the woman shouted. The White Thread tightened further around his neck. A thin trickle of blood ran down his skin. Red blood.
“Your Sovereignty… your rules?” The question came from a forgotten corner of the room, where Augustine was watching the Guardian with haunting eyes. The room seemed to lose part of its light.
“So you can speak, little human?” the woman laughed, though her voice betrayed a certain unease.
“Just a word of advice…” Augustine said, mimicking her sensuality. “Keep your hand at the level of your eyes…”
The Guardian of the Threads looked at her without understanding.