I tapped on Kaela's shoulder.
After a little grumble, she slowly raised her eyelids.
And then froze, stupefied.
I stared back with an overjoyed, gleeful slime.
Hehehehe… That's what you get for taking me out of it so often.
"Wha-"
Eventually, her brain was done processing my miraculous recovery, but I cut her off before she could express her shock.
Someone's coming.
"Shh, don't make too much noise. The guard with our food serving is right around the corner."
I spoke, voice hushed.
Kaela's mouth opened and closed a few times, unsure how to feel about the breakneck development, until she finally seemed to grasp the full picture.
Or at least the important part of the picture. She's a smart girl - probably already knows what I'm gonna do next.
The footsteps, meanwhile, drew closer.
"Act like usual. Don't screw up, my dear friend; this is our one and only chance at escaping."
Without waiting for her response, I swiftly gathered up all of my severed appendages, long burnt beyond recovery, and rubbed the ash all over my body.
Uhh, well, not the best disguise, but it should be good enough… It's kinda dark anyways, so the guard probably won't notice anything off for at least a few seconds.
Fortunately, a few seconds were all I needed.
I laid down on my stomach, making sure to cover the useless shackles with my body, along with my bladed arms, which I also folded beneath.
Just then, the door creaked open, emitting an all too familiar screech.
The sound sent a shiver down my spine; I'd started subconsciously associating the creaky door with imminent torment.
Woulda been funny, if not for the trauma of it all… Heh, damn.
The guard strode closer. I held my breath.
*Yawn*
"Heyaaa~"
Kaela faithfully fulfilled my request, feigning a groggy voice, as if still disoriented from sleep.
I clenched my fists, metaphorically of course, in admiration of her acting skills.The thought that it might not have been an act at all flashed through my mind; I didn't dwell on it, choosing to keep believing in my only friend.
The guard, as always, ignored her greeting and clicked the key into its slot, unlocking the door.
I wanted to lunge at him right there and then, but had to exercise patience.
*Step*
*Step*
*Step*
After an agonizingly long few seconds, he was as close as he would be.
Wait… Wait…
I made my breath unsteady, mimicking that of a dying man, until the guard crouched to set our tray of rations down.
…Now!!
*Fwoosh!*
In a flash, I appeared before the guard.
*Slash*
My blade tore through the air, cleaving into his neck with no resistance.
The poor guy was too taken aback to react on time - his life ended on the spot, head rolling across the cold floor with a dull thud.
Invisible to the naked eye, strings of vitality and essence flowed through the blade and into my body, invigorating me.
"Ahh, this is so much better than just siphoning energy without killing. Thanks for the meal."
My mood couldn't get any better.
With a smile, so wide that my cheeks started to ache, I turned to Kaela.
"You ready, my dearest of friends?"
Unfortunately, I didn't receive a proper response. She still seemed overwhelmed by…
Well, everything really.
"I get ya, Kaela. I'd be losing my mind too, if I saw a person on the verge of death suddenly looking good as new. But we really gotta get moving."
I moved my arms back and forth in a running motion, urging her to hurry. That seemed to have brought her out of the stupor, as she finally spoke.
"No, it's not that."
My eyebrow shot up in question.
"Hmm? What else could you be so surprised about..? Ah, the new blades! These bad boys were inspired by Hellforge Mantises."
I tapped on one of the blades in pride, showing off the extra joint which allowed it to fold and unfold at will.
Yet, instead of an affirmation, Kaela just shook her head, once again leaving me confused.
"Okay, now that's a real head scratcher. Just tell me already… I hate being on edge over nothing."
She pointed at me with an index finger.
"W-why? Why do you look so young?"
"God damnit; that's what this is about?!"
I ran a hand down my face in exasperation, cursing grandma fate out in my head.
That's it. I'm done.
I'm so fucking done with this shit.
***
Malrik is in bad shape.
His father, Nether's king, was concerned.
The changes were gradual, so it took him a while to notice his eldest son's deteriorating mental state.
At first, he simply showed up to training more tired than usual.
'Nothing to worry about. Of course he'd be exhausted with such a busy schedule.'
…Is what he thought initially. Yet now, he could only blame himself for not prying deeper.
He truly wished he could return a week into the past, to give his old self a beating. And to set Malrik's mind straight.
Every next day, he showed up with less and less energy, until, after a breaking point, he stopped coming to training altogether.
It was then that Mal's father felt his heart sink, worry gnawing at his chest.
Never - not once had his missed his training before, no matter how exhausted.
And so, he'd decided to check up on him, despite his promise not to pry. The situation was just that dire.
He reached Malrik's chamber and slipped through the door, having received no response after a knock.
The sight took him aback.
Mal's room was in shambles - tables flipped, bedsheets torn to shred, oil lamps shattered - bloodied glass shards littered the floor.
But worst of all…
What is this vile energy?
The king's gaze traced the source, landing on a balled up figure in a dark corner of the room.
"Malrik..? What is all of this? Hey! Hey, you hear me?!"
Something was deeply wrong. Mal couldn't even hear his father's words, instead mumbling words under his breath like a maniac.
"Ori, Ori, Ori… Threadripper… Why?! Why won't you talk?! Haaahh, haaahh, no that won't work. Maybe I should try-"
His crazed ramble was cut short when a firm hand gripped his shoulder. Finally, he turned around with a flinch.
No, no, please. It can't be.
His talented son - his pride and hope - had succumbed to demonic corruption.
Mal's gaze held an unhinged glint. Fingers were bloodied, and nails chewed off, revealing mangled flesh beneath. He also held a lock of hair in his hand. His own.
The king felt like his world was falling apart. Everything he'd built up, everything he'd prepared for Malrik's eventual climb to the throne, had all crumbled within a single week.
Just as he was about to give into despair, the door flew open and one of Nether's warriors rushed in, panic written all over his face.
Upon seeing the room, he temporarily froze, before quickly clearing his head with a shake and delivering a report to his king:
"Lord Nether, we're in trouble! Two Royal Detention prisoners escaped, and have started a bloodbath! I await your orders!"
Why now, of all times?
As much as the king wished to throw everything else aside and take care of his afflicted child, the issue was too pressing to ignore.
Coming to a decision, he turned to look at the guard.
Malrik, meanwhile, had already forgotten all about his father's sudden appearance and returned to madly carving some indecipherable text on the floor with a fire-tipped finger.
The king's expression turned deadpan as he buried his wildly rampaging emotions:
"Report all the details - actually no, keep it brief."
"Yessir! The escapees are a pair of violent individuals: a woman detained for an attempt on the Young Lord's life, and…"
Noticing his warrior's hesitation, the king urged him on.
"Speak up. Who is the other?"
The man shrunk under the oppressively heavy voice and squeezed his words out with great effort.
"W-Well, that's the thing… My Lord. I don't have access to any information on the second one. His data is restricted to the highest degree, so all I know is his name… I'm sorry, Sir!"
"Save the apologies for later - you must have at least seen how that individual looks, correct? Describe their appearance. And name."
The warrior deeply bowed, averting his gaze from the king's fear inducing eyes, and responded with exaggerated confidence to hide the quivering notes in his voice.
"As you command! The other individual is a young man. A child, just barely past his teens, named Ori. Unfortunately, I don't have access to his full name, or reason for detainment."
At those words, the king's expression finally shifted with a flash of recognition.
He recalled Malrik's words, mumbled just a moment ago. There was one particular thing he kept repeating over and over, almost obsessively:
Ori, was it? Was this your doing?
The whole room trembled, pressed down by a tangible pressure; in the storm's eyes stood the enraged Nether's king.
It wasn't difficult to put two and two together.
Just before Malrik's demonic corruption, he took on a new job; one of interrogating a criminal.
And now, it 'just so happened' that a prisoner wearing the name Malrik couldn't get out his head - escaped.
The timing lined up too well for a freak coincidence.
You may have thought you conceived a flawless plan, Ori… But you overlooked something vital.
Did you truly think that, with Malrik out of the picture, you were safe?
It may have been unsightly, for a king of such a prosperous country to target somebody a fifth of his age.
However, child or not, the criminal had crossed a line that should never have been even approached.
You better have a backup plan at hand, Ori. Because if not, I'm afraid you will find yourself wishing you were dead.
With those thoughts, he walked up to the terrified warrior and issued a new order in an eerily even voice.
"Lead the way."
"Y-yes. I mean, Yessir!! Follow me, please."
In this manner, leaving his broken minded son behind, Nether's king set out towards the battlefield where Ori - the criminal who dared lay his filthy hands on Malrik - bathed in a rain of blood.
Immense pressure followed the two, causing everyone on their path to take the knee, in fear of becoming the recipient of their Lord's rage.
***
Kaela, in her peripheral vision, watched Ori weave his way through a swarm of powerful warriors in what would've looked like a beautifully choreographed dance.
Yes, would have - if not for the piles upon piles of corpses, mangled beyond recognition, left in his wake.
Kaela crushed the heart of another man whose chest she ruthlessly pierced with her fist, but just as she prepared to lunge at her next opponent - her head jerked towards Nether's main palace.
Ori's did, as well.
In fact, every warrior on the field froze in place; every gaze was now directed one way.
Someone dangerous is approaching. Very, very dangerous.
She shot Ori a glance, brows furrowed.
He returned the gloomy look.
"We might be screwed."
"Mhm. I think so too."
"Shit."
"Damn."
The both of them cursed in sync.