One night, while on the graveyard shift, Henry strolled along a deserted stretch of road when a sudden jolt of premonition slammed into him. Vivid crimson streaks bloomed in his mind's eye, painting the immediate vicinity with danger. A group of five figures lunged from the shadows, their intent hostile.
The ensuing skirmish erupted with brutal swiftness. Henry felt each tendril of ill-will directed his way - a palpable aggression, yet lacking the absolute intent to kill. His attackers didn't seek his immediate demise. Their blows were vicious, but not lethally precise. Was this a test? A trial by combat?
Through the unwavering lens of his Mystic Sense, Henry swiftly discerned this crucial distinction. He gritted his teeth, acutely aware of every subtle shift in the surrounding air. He weaved, countering with sharp, economical movements, using the pommel of his sword to slam into the face of an onrushing assailant. Another attacker materialized from a darkened alleyway; he twisted to evade, accepting a glancing blow to his side, then lashed out with his leg, striking his opponent's knee and sending him sprawling. The chaotic dance continued, leaving Henry with a collection of stinging wounds, none life-threatening.
Henry knew he couldn't afford to prolong the engagement. Exploiting a momentary fissure in the enemy formation, he knocked aside two opponents and surged through the gap, using his momentum to break free from their encirclement. A few pursued, but he swiftly melted into the inky blackness of the night.
The incident was quickly relayed by a close aide to General Zalogr. The General listened to the report in silence, his sharp eyes narrowed in contemplation. More than a decade had passed since Henry's improbable victory over the Dark Reaper, yet in all that time, he had remained a diligent but unremarkable soldier. This ambush, however, stirred a seed of doubt in Zalogr's mind.
The following day, Henry entered the command tent, meeting the piercing gaze of General Zalogr. The air within the tent was so still that Henry could clearly hear the soft rustle of pages as Zalogr turned them. The General sat with his arms crossed over his chest, gesturing for the young soldier to take the seat opposite him.
"Do you know why I've summoned you here, Henry?" Zalogr's voice was steady, yet held an undercurrent of keen scrutiny.
Henry tilted his head slightly, feigning thought. "I can only presume it's regarding the ambush last night, sir?"
Zalogr's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. "Astute. Yes, I received the report. A group of unknowns attacked you, but your reaction… it was rather interesting. You evaded the majority of their blows, countered precisely, yet sustained several injuries. I don't believe that was mere chance."
"Nor do I, sir. Those attackers… they didn't seem to want to kill me." Henry replied calmly.
"And I am interested in your reasoning."
"To ambush a Rank 2 soldier like myself, a single Rank 3 would suffice. Yet they deployed five Rank 2 individuals. This is East Aerion; if someone wants you dead, they do it cleanly and efficiently. Sending five individuals of equal Rank to the target is hardly a wise strategy." he offered with a faint smile.
"So, you believe they were merely testing you?" Zalogr observed him intently.
"It's difficult to believe that two such closely timed events are mere coincidence, wouldn't you agree, sir?" Henry met the General's authoritative gaze directly.
"And what do you surmise they wished to test?" A cryptic smile touched Zalogr's lips.
Henry returned a slight smile, but offered no immediate answer. He knew Zalogr was a keen observer; the slightest misstep would allow the General to seize the advantage.
Zalogr continued, his voice even but laced with weight. "Henry, I remember our first encounter vividly. A twelve-year-old boy, standing before me, declaring he would slay the Dark Reaper without costing me a single soldier. I was… intrigued by that audacity. A reckless plan, yet it succeeded. And since that day, I have kept a watchful eye on you."
Henry remained silent, absorbing each word. Zalogr was subtly guiding the conversation down a path of his own choosing.
"You are familiar with Mystic Sense, are you not?" Zalogr abruptly shifted the topic.
Henry gave a slight nod. "Yes, sir. I've read the Church's records on it. A peculiar ability, allowing one to perceive hostility, danger, and the negative emotions of others. The Dark Reaper possessed it, and it even evolved into Undead Mystic Sense."
Zalogr rested his elbows on the table, his fingers interlaced. "Then tell me, why do you think the Dark Reaper spared you and Sophia that day?"
Henry slowly shook his head. "I don't know, sir. Nor does she. If anyone has the answer, it would likely be the monster itself."
A wry twist touched Zalogr's lips. "Perhaps. But are you aware that Mystic Sense never truly vanishes? Upon the death of its host, it seeks a new one?"
Henry maintained a placid expression, but a storm brewed within him. He understood the implications of Zalogr's words.
"I was not aware of that, sir. But if someone possessed it, surely they would have drawn attention long ago." Henry replied evasively, leaving a deliberate ambiguity in his statement.
Zalogr rose slowly and walked towards Henry, placing a heavy hand on his shoulder.
"I am a cautious man, Henry. I prefer to verify things myself."
An oppressive aura descended, a crushing weight against Henry's chest. He felt as though a mere flick of the General's finger could extinguish his life as easily as crushing an ant.
Henry remained still, acutely aware of aether and a faint electrical current coursing through every fiber of his being. It felt as though he were being meticulously scanned, cell by cell.
After a long moment, the General gave a slow nod.
"Perhaps you speak truthfully. But regardless… remember this, Henry: I am always watching. If you have anything to say, it would be wise to say it before it is too late."
Henry offered a tight smile. "I will keep that in mind, sir."
Zalogr held his gaze for another moment before waving his hand dismissively. "Very well, you may go. But be careful, Henry. Your luck may not always hold."
Henry rose, bowed respectfully, and exited the tent.
Inside, Zalogr stood by a table, swirling the amber liquid in his goblet, his brow furrowed in thought.
"I still detected no anomalies within him."
General Zalogr recalled the events of a decade past, a hint of wistfulness in his voice. "Even without Mystic Sense, he could have become a remarkable soldier. A pity… he no longer possesses the eyes of that twelve-year-old boy."
As Henry stepped outside, a cold gust of wind swept through the camp, a stark contrast to the chilling realization that he had just narrowly escaped detection, his hidden ability masked even from a Rank 6 General.
"Ten years have passed, and he's still just as terrifying." Henry thought, tilting his head back, the memory of that fateful night resurfacing.
.
The chill of night began to settle over the desolate plain. Henry urged Sophia away from the horrifying scene. But as they had barely taken a few steps, the sound of approaching hooves echoed across the land, accompanied by the flickering glow of torches. A company of cavalry was drawing near, their silver armor reflecting the orange-red light of the flames in the darkness.
A contingent of armed soldiers entered the ravaged area, their gazes cold, as if they were all too familiar with such sights. One soldier knelt to examine a corpse, his face grim.
"Just like the others… not bandits."
"It's him… the Dark Reaper."
The name seemed to freeze the very air. Several soldiers swallowed hard, one of them visibly trembling. An officer approached Henry and Sophia, his sharp eyes fixated on the two lone survivors.
"Two children alive."
No one answered. Another soldier spoke, his voice laced with disbelief. "How in the hell did they survive an encounter with the Dark Reaper?"
"Bring them back. They might have useful information."
Henry and Sophia were taken into custody, their small hands swallowed by the rough grips of the soldiers. Henry tried to pull away, but he was powerless. He looked at Sophia; she offered no resistance, her face pale and still.
At the Zephyros barracks.
They were brought to the military encampment, where a general and his commanding officers were stationed. It was a vast base with thousands of soldiers, weapons arrayed everywhere, tents stretching for miles.
Henry and Sophia were led into a large tent. Before them stood a middle-aged man with eyes as sharp and piercing as an eagle's - the eyes of someone who had witnessed countless battles, seen endless death, and long since abandoned any belief in mercy.
The General rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, his voice low but sharp. "Tell me what you saw."
Henry opened his mouth to speak, but found himself at a loss for words. He had seen nothing, only woken amidst the carnage. He shook his head.
Sophia remained silent as well. She didn't understand why she was still alive.
"Why did the Dark Reaper spare you?"
"I… I don't know." Sophia whispered.
A commanding officer nearby pondered for a moment, then turned to the General. "Sir, it's possible the creature had a reason to let them live. It can sense hostility, negative emotions in any living being. If it ignored this girl… it means…"
He didn't finish his sentence before another voice cut in. "Who wouldn't have negative emotions witnessing such carnage? Especially with the killer, a terrifying monster, still present." The question hung heavy in the tense air of the tent.
The General's brow furrowed.
"Read their memories. We will know the exact reason."
A soldier stepped forward, reaching for Henry's shoulder. But before they could act - a horrifying shriek echoed from outside. The clang of steel against steel, the whinnying of horses, the sickening tear of flesh. Then a low, guttural sound, chillingly resonant as if from the depths of hell:
"Scritch… Scritch… Scritch…"
A black wind swept through the camp, carrying the icy breath of death. The Dark Reaper… had arrived.
Henry and Sophia were thrown to the ground as the tent shook violently. Outside, soldiers screamed in despair as the Dark Reaper sliced through them as if they were paper.
The black figure, wielding a scythe nearly two meters long, glided across the battlefield, each swing bringing down several heads. A malevolent fire burned in its empty eye sockets; these were no longer the eyes of a living creature.
The General and his trusted aides charged out to meet the threat. A furious barrage of attacks erupted - lightning, fire, magic, arrows… all aimed at the monstrous figure.
Inside the tent, Henry and Sophia could only hear the sounds of the battle raging outside - deafening explosions, the clash of weapons, the screams of soldiers being cut down. They couldn't see, but they knew the situation outside was dire.
Thump… Thump… Thump…
Loud explosions rocked the tent's entrance. The monster was pushed back, thrown into the camp, yet showed no signs of injury.
The guards within the camp immediately assumed battle stances. Mages erected a magical barrier around the creature while melee soldiers reinforced their weapons with glowing light and charged.
Shlick… Shlick… Shlick… The sound of slicing was sharp, clean, and decisive.
The melee soldiers fell simultaneously. Shields, swords, armor, and their very bodies were severed into multiple pieces. Less than three seconds for it to kill five fully prepared mid-rank soldiers.
The four mages completed their formation; a pillar of light descended, searing the dark skeleton.However, it merely stepped out of the magical barrier unscathed, and with a swing of its scythe, annihilated the four powerful mages in less than three seconds.
Henry watched the battle in terror, his heart pounding wildly. He grabbed Sophia. "Let's go!"
The girl nodded. They ran amidst the chaos. But then… a dark shadow materialized before them. The Dark Reaper stood there, blocking their path. Just as it raised its scythe to strike Henry, a commanding officer nearby ordered the remaining soldiers to fire upon it with countless blessed weapons and artifacts - items specifically designed to destroy the undead. But once again, there was no discernible damage.
They continued their assault with every element of magic they could muster, yet it didn't even flinch. The force of the magical explosions sent both children flying. Henry, being closer, was thrown further; Sophia was less affected, but that put her closest to the Dark Reaper.
It swung its scythe. All the soldiers in the camp had been slaughtered; the blade still dripped with blood. But the strangest thing… it didn't look at Sophia. Henry froze. This monster had butchered dozens of soldiers in this camp, yet it didn't even spare Sophia a glance.
Henry gripped the girl's hand tightly, trying to pull her away. But at that moment, the Dark Reaper turned its head. Its fiery eye sockets blazed as it stared directly at Henry. The scythe rose high.
Henry's heart nearly stopped. But in that instant, he took a step back, shielding Sophia with his body. She clung to him tightly.
And the Dark Reaper… hesitated. As if it had lost its target. The fiery glow in its eyes flickered, leaving only a faint yellow spark. This single moment left both Henry and Sophia breathless.
Just then, from outside the camp, a powerful bolt of lightning struck the monster directly. Immediately, the flames in its eye sockets reignited. It absorbed the full force of the attack but still managed to swing its scythe, gravely wounding the Zephyros general. The remaining officers surged forward, suppressing the creature with a barrage of magic, forcing it to retreat.
When the chaos subsided, Henry slowly turned to Sophia. She was looking at him too. Their eyes met, both holding the same unspoken question:
"Why?"
Why hadn't that monster killed Sophia? Why, when Henry stood near her, had it ignored him too? Neither had an answer. But in Henry's heart, he knew… their survival that night was no mere stroke of luck.
It was a mystery. A mystery that could forever alter their destinies.