It started raining.
That made Kael pull up the hood of his cloak. He didn't particularly mind the burning sting of the acid rain, but his eyes did. And if his eyes minded, then he had no choice but to mind it too.
As his fingers brushed over the surface of the cloak, he felt that its texture had changed dramatically since before.
That made him realize the cloak he'd picked up was nearing the end of its life.
With that thought, Kael stood and glanced back toward the Old City. Everything looked normal from where he stood. He hadn't heard any loud noises or shrill, frantic shouting, either.
That meant Wraith had either finished the job without a hitch or was still in the middle of it.
Either way, whether or not he'd been exposed, Kael hoped he wouldn't get hurt.
Wraith's regenerative ability had left a deep impression on him. So had his strength, agility, and rate of growth.
But Kael still believed there was no such thing as a free lunch.
You couldn't have such incredible strength without paying some kind of price.
Great strength made for a bulky frame and layers of muscle. Pursuing agility meant shedding the restraints of fat and muscle. Superior explosive power would leave you craving more energy every day. And if you wanted to fly—
Just look at birds. To claim the sky, these creatures—nowhere to be found on Nostramo—had even evolved hollow bones.
And Wraith...
He had the fastest regenerative ability Kael had ever seen. In fact, it could hardly be called regeneration. It was more like his flesh instinctively fused itself back together after an injury, striving to regain its perfect form.
It instinctively refused to be broken.
So what price did such power demand from a creature like Wraith, who had so obviously been born in a laboratory?
Kael had no answer. But he knew that, no matter what, Wraith couldn't die before him.
He narrowed his eyes, but his thoughts were interrupted by the rumble of an engine coming from the other end of the bell tower. It was faint, but Kael still caught it.
He turned toward the brightly lit highway. A massive black car was speeding straight toward him from far away. It had none of the so-called "streamlined" design. The vehicle looked brutally rugged, and every window was pitch-black.
An armored car?
That sure brought back memories.
Kael rose lightly onto his toes. After three small hops on the spot, he leaped away from the bell tower and began sprinting across the rooftops of the dark Old City.
His eyes stayed fixed on the highway. The dazzling headlights looked hazy through the growing curtain of rain. The distant checkpoints had become tiny dots, but the car remained clear.
The acid rain made the air damp and foul-smelling, but he ignored it completely.
Raindrops struck his cloak and hood in a steady percussion that drowned out his hearing. The beats were faint and growing faster, just like his heartbeat.
Then he bent his knees and sprang upward. Power he shouldn't have possessed erupted through his body. Blue light flared in his eyes, his muscles swelled, and the bricks beneath his feet shattered, scattering into dust and powder in the acid rain.
On his own, Kael Lohars had briefly reached the skies.
I might be Nostramo's high-jump and long-jump champion, if this Star of Eternal Night ever holds a sports meet.
In the darkness, Kael slowly smiled.
He didn't like humor and hated telling jokes. But he could smile, if only out of politeness.
--
"How long has it been since we last came to Quintus?"
Jando Skolevok asked in a tone that suggested he wanted an answer, but his gaze wasn't on the two people sitting across from him.
In fact, he was lounging in his luxurious leather seat, savoring the red wine he'd taken from the car's liquor cabinet.
Whenever and wherever they were, most of Nostramo's nobles put pleasure first.
"We've never been to Quintus."
Lena Skolevok replied coldly. "If that big head of yours hasn't rotted yet, Jando, you shouldn't be asking such a stupid question."
"Hah!"
Jando chuckled. "Your definition of stupidity is as shallow as ever, dear sister. To me, you sound like a presumptuous fool muttering to herself. Who do you think I meant by 'we'?"
Lena Skolevok narrowed her eyes. The horrific scar stretching across her entire cheek seemed to come alive, writhing.
"One day, I'll skin you for your insolence, Jando," she said darkly.
"Suit yourself—but I think we both know that, of Father's three surviving children, you're the least likely to inherit the Black Mark."
Lena's face turned ashen at once.
Jando burst into unrestrained laughter.
He tilted his long neck back and drained his glass. The liquid, redder than blood, slipped past his lips and disappeared into his mouth. Its taste burst across his tongue, drawing a satisfied sigh from him.
Then he turned his gaze to Irene Skolevok.
His eldest sister.
"Dear sister, do you have an answer to my question?"
Irene turned away from the black window. She sat a full five meters from Jando, a distance that offered a glimpse of just how enormous the car was. But it did nothing to soften her gaze.
In fact, the look in her eyes made Jando's smile slowly fade. His right hand also began inching toward the side of his seat.
"If I were you, I wouldn't choose to fire a gun inside the car, Jando," Irene said expressionlessly.
"Father lent us the Iron Pride for a reason. First, it can, to a certain extent, symbolize the glory of the Skolevok Family. Second, it can withstand many kinds of weapons—even bullets fired from inside."
"Then I can still use a knife," Jando said without betraying a hint of emotion.
"You're welcome to try," Irene Skolevok replied calmly. "But I won't promise that the hand you swing it with will remain intact."
Jando narrowed his eyes. One second passed, then two. Suddenly, he relaxed into a smile and drew his right hand back up. Then he even apologized.
"Please accept my apologies, dear sister. At the same time, I sincerely hope you'll answer your foolish younger brother's little question."
"Twenty years ago."
Irene turned to look out at the night beyond the black glass and answered quietly. "We came here twenty years ago."
"Twenty years ago." Jando nodded thoughtfully. "That was during the famous Great Purge, wasn't it?"
"Yes."
"How interesting."
Jando smiled again. "Seventy percent of Quintus's population disappeared during the Great Purge. I still remember how I felt when I read the records in the family library. I only wish I'd been there."
"Do you think you would have survived?"
Lena Skolevok scoffed, her face full of contempt. She never passed up a chance to take a shot at Jando Skolevok.
"Six families were permanently erased during the Great Purge, and the Lohars Family was one of them. You don't honestly think you could outdo even one Lohars in the art of wielding a blade, do you?"
"No, Lena. I've never thought that. In fact, even if I'd died, I would have been content if I could only have been there."
This time, Jando didn't mock her. He simply shook his head, quite calmly.
He tilted his head back and looked up at the sunroof. Lena watched him, completely unable to guess what her usually arrogant bastard of a relative was planning.
Then she saw Jando's expression grow more and more melancholy.
Without warning, Lena shuddered with revulsion. This wasn't the first time Jando's behavior had left her baffled.
"You should have belonged to Tremor-Tooth or the Silver-Winged Corpse, Jando. You don't deserve to be one of us," Lena said with disgust.
"Perhaps."
Jando Skolevok looked at her and nodded noncommittally. "I'll forgive your stupidity, Lena."
"You—" Lena sprang up from her seat and lunged at Jando. At that very moment, Irene turned her head.
In her field of vision, a triumphant smile slowly spread across Jando's lips, while Lena's anger was plain to see.
And yet, for some reason, in this familiar scene of drawn blades and simmering tension, Irene Skolevok felt an inexplicable sense of panic for the first time.
The next second, she got an answer she didn't want.
"Boom—!"
With a deafening crash, some force brought the Skolevok Family's Iron Pride to a sudden stop. They were still a full eight thousand meters from the first checkpoint of the Glory Warlords.
Its heavy wheels kept turning, scraping black marks into the road the workers had repaired at the cost of their lives. But the car couldn't move another meter.
Irene Skolevok could attest to that. Something on her left wrist was humming, low and urgent.
It was the engine-failure warning.
Everyone inside the car was thrown into disarray. Jando and Lena had fallen on top of each other, but neither rushed to fight. Instead, they looked in unison at their eldest sister, who sat upright in her leather seat with her seat belt fastened.
Irene ignored them. She swiftly and gently unfastened her seat belt, then pressed a button on the armrest to her right. The heavy metal door connecting the passenger compartment to the front compartment swung open.
Behind it stood forty armed private soldiers in black armor.
Irene rose and met the eyes of their leader.
At her slight nod, the soldiers unfastened their waist restraints, and the doors on either side of the front compartment opened automatically. They got out at once.
Then the heavy doors closed again, sealing the passenger compartment off from the front.
The whole process was silent, swift, and deadly.
Seeing this, Jando whistled and said, eyes narrowed, "Father never told me the Iron Pride was this big. Can it really seat so many people?"
"Some things require the proper standing to know. For example, the fact that it doesn't even need a driver."
Irene looked at her younger brother, her gaze now icy. "Stop wasting your breath. Get ready, Jando. You too, Lena."
As she spoke, she rolled up her left sleeve. A small silver bracelet encircled her pale wrist. Irene pressed a few buttons, and the four seats in the passenger compartment folded back automatically, revealing the weapons beneath them.
Jando whistled again, this time in surprise.
"So many autoguns? And they're all high-end Prime models?"
Lena snorted and pushed past him to stand in front of the seats. As she chose a weapon, she said coldly, "Shut up, Jando, and start—"
"—Target spotted! Open fire!"
A shout from outside abruptly cut Lena off. A dense roar of gunfire followed.
Thirty autoguns, hand-built by artisans from Prime Hive City, erupted with a sound almost too loud for human eardrums to bear. Jando and Lena both frowned. Only Irene remained unmoved.
But only she knew how fast her heart was beating.
What's going on? Why am I so uneasy?
"Cease fire, cease fire!" the private soldiers' commander shouted. "The reserve fire team, stay on alert! Everyone else, reload! Find him!"
"Him?"
Jando raised an eyebrow and joked, "Our attacker is just one man? I thought the Iron Pride had been hit by a rocket."
"Shut up, Jando," Irene said softly. "Pick up a gun."
"Why, eldest sister?"
"Pick up a gun and stay quiet."
As Irene spoke, she lifted her head and looked at the ceiling of the passenger compartment.
Jando asked for an explanation, but his body moved first, and he picked up an autogun.
He stood shoulder to shoulder with Lena. Both of them followed Irene's gaze to the ceiling. They didn't know why Irene was looking up, but they wanted to find out.
Then they did.
Above the sunroof, a dark figure stared down at the three of them.
Jando raised his gun sharply—but the figure vanished in an instant.
No one spoke inside the passenger compartment. Silence began to spread. Acid rain struck the sunroof, hammering at glass capable of withstanding close-range fire from high-caliber weapons. The raindrops shattered against it, only for more to follow, relentless and uncomplaining.
Irene raised a hand. Cold sweat trickled down her forehead.
She pressed the bracelet on her left wrist, then lifted it to her mouth and spoke quietly. "Watch the surroundings and the roof, Helmut. Is there only one attacker?"
"Honored Irene Skolevok, we've only seen one shadow."
"Stay on alert. I'll contact the Glory Warlords and have them hurry over to support us," Irene said, pressing a scarlet button on the armrest of her unfolded seat.
The Skolevok Family was never short on emergency measures.
"Understood, honored Irene Skolevok!"
Helmut's voice sounded from outside the car once more. He shouted through the pouring rain and rising wind. "You all heard that! Stay alert, stay—"
"—Bang!"
The car jolted violently.
"Open fire! Open fire!"
"He's got Commander Helmut!"
Jando's cheek twitched. As the bizarre chaos piled up around him, he murmured a curse, cold sweat running down his face.
"The Skolevok Family will grind you to dust, attacker! Whoever's backing you won't save you!"
Commander Helmut's voice came through Irene's bracelet, full of hatred and fury. The attacker didn't say a word. Helmut continued to threaten and curse him, but he maintained an eerie silence.
Irene took a deep breath. She meant to negotiate, using Helmut's life to test the attacker and learn whatever she could. But her plan failed before she could even begin.
Helmut's scream rang out abruptly. A faint sound of flesh tearing began inside the passenger compartment, and it didn't stop.
On the highway circling the city at midnight, pitiful screams echoed above everyone from the Skolevok Family.
"Damn it." Jando's cheek twitched again. "What's going on, eldest sister?"
Irene didn't answer. The next minute was a minute of agony and torment for all of them.
Time dragged by, but no one spoke again. Jando and Lena could hear the private soldiers' faint breathing outside the car and the raindrops striking overhead. Irene remained silent, staring at her bracelet.
Then—
A song came from the other end of the bracelet.
Low and lingering, it carried an unmistakable melancholy. The tune was gentle, yet it sounded like a blade scraping against the delicate skin of someone's neck.
"Sir," Irene said slowly. "Whatever the other families are paying you, the Skolevok Family can offer you ten times as much."
The song continued.
"We're the wealthiest family on Nostramo. Our connections reach across all five Hive Cities. It's not too late to stop, sir."
The singing stopped.
But the voice on the other end of the bracelet didn't speak. It only chuckled lowly. The rain hissed, the wind swept past, and he laughed as his voice slowly faded into the distance.
After a brief silence, Lena, still stiff with tension, asked, "...Has he left?"
"Bang!"
A heavy blow suddenly struck the sturdy window behind Lena, sending cracks racing across the glass and making her shudder and fall to the floor. Jando didn't take the opportunity to mock her. Instead, he stared in that direction, his face deathly pale.
Just now, he'd seen a dark ghost flash past.
Then the private soldiers' shouts erupted outside the passenger compartment once more.
"He's beside the car! Open fire!"
"Damn it, where is he?!"
"Keep firing, keep firing! Reserve fire team, stay alert!"
"I found you, bastard! Take this! What?! No, no!"
"He's there! He killed A-7! He, he, he cut him in half—!"
"No, he's over here!"
Chaos came without warning, erupting in an instant. Madness spread with it, and the guns roared without pause—even the reserve fire team joined in. Everyone frantically squeezed their triggers, but that couldn't hide one fact.
The gunfire was growing fainter, while the screams were growing more numerous.
The storm swept past with a furious howl. A deathly silence began creeping through the carriage.
Jando's hands started to tremble. He stared at the nearly shattered window, and beneath the soft yellow lights of the passenger carriage, he could clearly see murky rainwater creeping across the cracked glass.
But there was blood too, spreading down from above the window.
Jando slowly raised his head and saw a corpse. It had appeared on the skylight without warning, and no one had noticed when it arrived.
Its hands and feet were gone, and its bullet-resistant helmet had been removed. Its face was pressed tightly against the skylight, its dark, lifeless eyes fixed on Jando.
He stared back at it.
Three seconds later, Jando's legs gave way, and he collapsed to the floor.
"Big sis," he called, trembling.
"I saw it."
Irene answered slowly, her face paler than it had ever been. Then she raised her left hand. "Commander Helmut is confirmed dead. Skolevok soldiers, report your casualties to me."
A heavy, ragged pant came through the wrist communicator. "A-1 soldier is next in line to assume command, honored Irene Skolevok. We've suffered heavy losses. There are only nine of us left."
"How is that possible?!" Lena, who had been sitting on the floor for some time, shouted. "How could forty Skolevok Family soldiers—"
"—Shut your mouth, Lena."
Irene turned around, her face dark. She finally took an Autogun from the small weapons locker beneath the seat.
She checked it with practiced ease, removing the magazine and inspecting the chamber before immediately loading it. She raised it in a standard firing stance, then slowly backed away until she reached the heavy door connecting the passenger carriage to the front carriage.
"Listen carefully to every word I'm about to say, Skolevok soldiers. There are only nine of you left. You've suffered heavy losses. Yes."
"But the Skolevok Family will not forget your sacrifice. The families of all those who died will be properly cared for, and your children will be eligible to become private soldiers. So you know what to do."
"Understood!"
The A-1 soldier, now in command, roared, "You all heard what the honored Irene Skolevok said! We'll die for the Skolevok Family!"
"Of course. I heard it too."
A deep voice rang out through the curtain of rain. It pierced the rain and the carriage, carrying a boundless chill that sent shivers down their spines, as though it had crossed the boundary between life and death.
"Then I'll give you the death you long for, Commander A-1."
"He's up ahead! Fi—"
"No! Commander!"
"Please, don't—!"
The final, piercing scream cut through the night. Since the attack began, not even six minutes had passed. The three people in the carriage wore different expressions, but all their faces were equally pale.
"Sir." Irene struggled to speak again, trying one last time. But the attacker didn't let her.
Bang!
Another deafening impact shook the right side of the carriage. The force was so immense that they could barely stay upright.
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Five consecutive blows came from the right side of the passenger carriage. Each one landed harder than the last. The sturdy walls of this venerable vehicle, which had served the Skolevok Family for more than two hundred and twenty years, began to buckle inward.
Then, on the bulging metal, a blade slowly and gently pierced through. Metal scraped with a drawn-out groan as the blade turned as easily as if cutting through butter. In just a few seconds, it had carved out a huge circle.
Jando's breathing grew unsteady. Just as Irene had said, he knew little about the secrets of the Iron Pride, but he knew one thing.
The Iron Pride's outer shell had been made with a small amount of Adamantium mixed in.
Screee.
With a harsh metallic shriek, the circle cut from the carriage wall was slowly "pushed" aside. The heavy metal disk dropped onto the expensive carpet with a dull thud.
The harsh white glare of the road lamps burst in, bringing with it the stench of acid rain and the overwhelming smell of blood, so thick it seemed capable of drowning them alive.
Then they saw a cloaked figure standing amid the corpses, staring at them.
Beneath the hood, a ghostly blue light blazed.
Clatter.
"Ah!" Lena shrieked hysterically.
She didn't know that the sound came from former commander Helmut, whose body lay on the skylight above them. The rain had washed his mutilated corpse off the skylight. Ten minutes earlier, Lena would have noticed.
But now she wasn't Lena Skolevok. She was just a captive, her mind seized by fear.
And at that very moment, she wasn't the only one in the carriage held captive by fear.
Otherwise, why wasn't anyone firing?
"Hush. When someone else is about to speak, you should stay quiet."
A soft, prolonged shushing sound pierced the rain. The wind howled, and a gentle voice spoke.
"Now, run, children of the Skolevok Family."
"Come out of that precious carriage and run beneath the filthy acid rain. I want your noble lungs to breathe the foul air native to the Underhive. I want your pale skin to be scorched by the acid rain."
"I want you to feel pain."
"I'll kill you, but not yet. Torture is always entertaining, children of the Skolevok Family."
He chuckled darkly. The white road lamps glowed dimly through the rain and mist.
"The reinforcements you called for are almost here. For the next twelve hours, you can run, hide, or try to fight back. But I want you to remember one thing."
The shadow slowly took a step forward. That single step made Lena's screams grow even more frantic and forced Jando to look up in horror. Irene could barely keep standing.
Then he slowly raised his right hand. A tattoo was barely visible beneath the silver blade pressed against his wrist.
"The Vengeful Wraith has come for you."
As the words fell, he vanished.
Silence spread through the carriage. The stench of blood filled the air, mingling with the foul odor and the chill gusting in from outside. Jando gulped down breath after breath, needing to do so to regain control of his emotions.
He turned his head and glanced at Lena, still paralyzed with fear. Instinctively, he wanted to mock her to ease his own terror and let out some of his relief at having survived.
But just then, an icy breath brushed his ear.
"Run," an icy voice ordered.
Five seconds later, three screams rang through the carriage. Three figures dashed out and ran wildly through the filthy acid rain they had brought upon themselves.
Behind them, low, manic laughter rang through the night.
Update posted suddenly.
I'll adjust the update time. Tomorrow's chapter should come out earlier.
Also, this chapter was inspired by the author's own experience.
Before you continue