As Asura rested, a tremor rumbled beneath him. The sudden quake made the bed creak, its metal frame groaning under the strain. His fight-or-flight instincts ignited instantly, and the ogre jolted upright his body tense. Another invasion...The thought struck like a hammer as he whipped his head around, scanning his surroundings through a haze of exhaustion. His vision swam, his sluggish mind struggling to pinpoint the source of the disturbance.
The familiar sting of alcohol and cleaning solutions anchored him, he was still in the medical bay. The scent grounded him, reminding him of his location.
"Whoa, sorry! Didn't mean to startle you," Lydia chuckled. "I just thought it was funny."
Asura rubbed his eyes with his upper hands while gripping the bed with the lower pair. He let out a slow breath before regarding her with a weary expression. "Are you okay?" she asked.
"I'm fine. Just tired." He licked his dry lips.
"You and me both." Lydia raised her brow, a soft expression on her face. She sat beside him with a sigh, her posture weighed by something unseen. In her hands, candlelight flickered against polished gold. She grasped two pairs of handcuffs. Asura's gaze drifted from the cuffs to her troubled face. She jingled them absentmindedly, the soft clink of metal filling the silence.
"Are you okay?" he asked again.
"Yeah…" She stopped for a long pause. "Mary doesn't trust you."
Asura scoffed. "Ha...I think I knew that from the tank shell hitting my forehead earlier."
"She wants to kill you..." Lydia continued, finding no joy in his words.
"She's not the first," Asura said, pulling himself up to her side.
"I'm supposed to bring you to her," She gazed into his eyes, her eyes desperate, searching. "for execution."
A heavy pause settled between them. Asura studied Lydia's face, the furrow in her brow betraying her turmoil. "Ah, don't worry about it," he said with a smirk. "She can't." He lightly pushed her shoulder.
Lydia's hand stilled around the cuffs. Her voice wavered with uncertainty. "How do you know? She's an Archknight, Asura..."
"And today, I fought a wounded Jormungandr, met three Archangels, and took on a few Paladins. I think I'll manage." He exhaled through his nose. "And if I don't? So what? You lived before today without me."
"Asura..." She groaned, unamused by the thought.
"You sound like Wain, getting all sappy on me. Speaking of which, where is he?" Asura's eyes landed on the empty bed across the room. Only wrinkled sheets and a pillow at the foot of the bed remained. Wain's scent lingered, but faintly, as if he had been gone for some time.
"He's probably arguing with Mary right now," Lydia murmured.
"Let me guess, she wants me cuffed and dragged in front of her immediately?" Asura rolled his shoulders. "Shouldn't I be present while my lawyer argues my case?"
Lydia hesitated. "I'll let you go. I'll tell her you escaped." She nodded as if to persuade herself.
"Stop." Asura's voice turned firm. "You'll get in trouble. So will Wain. I'm not about to fuck ya' both over." A small flame sparked to life in his mouth and the ogre spat it onto the floor before standing. He held out all four of his arms, a grin creeping across his face.
"Come on, priest scum. Do your job." He held out his arms before him, presenting himself. "Better hold me down or I'll bite!"
Lydia's grip tightened on the cuffs. "How confident are you?" she asked. "That you won't die?"
"On a scale from one to a hundred?" Asura looked up at the ceiling with a shrug. "Solid two."
"Asura, this isn't the time for jokes," Lydia said. She buried her face in her hands.
"It's always the time for jokes." His grin widened. "Even in the worst situations, it's best to smile, idiot. Now, put 'em on."
With a reluctant sigh, Lydia clasped the cuffs around his wrists, staring at the metal as if they weighed more than they should. "Even if Mary doesn't kill you... she'll send you to someone who can." Her eyes were filled with deep regret, as she sentenced an innocent man to death.
"Eh, doubt the old man will let that happen," Asura remarked, dropping his hands.
Lydia blinked. "What?"
"Mark, right? That's what you called him last time. I like 'old man' better, though. He's got plans for me—can't use me if I'm dead. And if Mary's calling him 'Captain,' she must respect him. No way she'd just go against him." He pushed her again. "So quit worryin'."
"I hope you're right." She whispered.
"I always am!" Asura posed, his stance wide. "They call me Asura the Wise!"
Lydia snorted. "Those words have never been used to describe you." Shaking her head, Lydia grabbed the cuffs and pulled him along. "More like Asura the Bold. Or Asura the Reckless."
"Still a sexy title." He flashed a toothy grin. As they stepped past the medical tarps, the infirmary came into full view. It was larger than the one back at the cathedral. Tarped-off sections lined the space, filled with the wounded. All throughout there was coughing, groaning, and whispered prayer. A song of suffering.
Asura's gaze fell on a patient being escorted into the room by a priest. The patient's head was wrapped in bandages, leaving only a single brown eye exposed. That eye, glassy with grief, told a story of loss deeper than any physical wound. Before Asura could take in more, Lydia pulled him from his thoughts with an unexpected question.
"What did you mean... Jormungandr was wounded?" She asked.
Asura blinked. "Couldn't you tell?"
"Tell what?" She turned to meet his gaze.
He lifted his cuffed hands, ticking off points on his fingers as if listing something obvious.
"He was slow. Barely used any mana. Should've summoned more illusions. He only made two. His regeneration was sluggish for an Apocalypse. He must've fought something before we got there. Something big."
Lydia's breath hitched. "Wait. You're saying... that wasn't him at full power?" Her brow furrowed in disbelief.
"The Dragon King must've beaten his ass first," Asura replied. "That's why that guy got so pissy when I mentioned her."
Lydia wanted to stop. She wanted time to process what that meant. But she couldn't. Instead, she had to keep walking, step by step, leading her friend toward his execution. And with every step, her heart ached more. He was wounded…
Far into the cathedral, a war was being waged. The air crackled with tension as two waves of holy mana collided, each resisting the other's force. To the untrained eye, it would seem like a battle between nature's might, the clash of an ocean against an immovable mountain, or a ferocious struggle between a bear and a lion locked in combat.
In the grand office of the Archknight, Mary and the Captain stood at odds. Before them lay a massive wooden desk, its expanse stretching from one end of the room to the other. The grand size felt like a waste in the Captain's eyes as he watched Mary silently sort through paperwork on a small section of it, leaving the rest of the desk barren. Surrounding them were towering bookshelves, stacked with records of the city's history, some twice the height of the Captain himself.
Behind Mary, tall windows stretched from ceiling to floor, allowing the sun's rays to spill into the room. The Captain's gaze wandered outside, to the barren city beyond. The buildings still stood tall, but the once-thriving heart of Stoliagate now seemed vacant, its streets eerily quiet. Priests from The Temple had been dispatched to assist with repairs, but it would take months before life in the city could return to normal.
"It's good that this room remained untouched," the Captain stated, breaking the silence.
"Yes. Yes, it is," Mary replied, her voice strained.
The Captain couldn't help but feel a distaste for Mary's lavishness, but after she became Thomas's disciple, he'd decided it was no longer his place to voice those opinions. His eyes fell on her as she scribbled furiously, her fingers tight around the pen, her arm trembling from barely contained anger.
"It isn't your fault, Mary," Mark said. His voice was soft.
"Then whose fault is it, Captain?" she shot back, her voice harsh.
"Mary—" He pleaded. Mary's face flushed with frustration as she snapped, "I am the Archknight of this city. It's my duty to protect Stoliagate and those who live here." She threw her arm toward the city. "Where was I? Hm? Investigating some cult activity in a dead city!"
Mary slammed her hand onto the desk, the heavy thud echoing through the room. "There was nothing there! Nothing!"
"You were sent there to do your job," the Captain countered. "There was nothing you could have done."
"I could've received a warning. A signal." She jabbed a finger at Mark. "Something! I could've been here in time..." Mary's words broke as her anger turned to grief.
"Jormungandr prevented any message from getting out," the Captain reminded her, his voice softening.
Mary sneered, her lips curling in frustration, "I should have been told what was happening before it escalated like this."
"We only had knowledge of the attack a few hours prior," the Captain replied.
"Lydia should've-" Mary clenched her fist.
"Lydia did her best." Mark cut through her words. "She defended this city against an Apocalypse."
"Mark... nearly fifty thousand people are dead." She stopped. Her eyes blazing with rage. "And we're still counting... All gone in my absence," Mary said, her voice trembling.
"Mary—" Mark pleaded again.
Her eyes were distant, filled with sorrow as she thought of the lives lost. "That amount of death is unforgivable. They died because I wasn't here." Mary slumped back in her chair, resting her head against the desk, her eyes closing in despair. When she opened them again, she found the Captain staring directly at her, his golden eyes piercing. There was no softness, only intense determination.
"I contacted The Temple the moment we suspected Jormungandr," Mark said. His tone was strong. "If you need to blame someone... blame them, not your people."
"Do not criticize The Temple like you usually do! Especially not now." Mary interrupted, her voice rising. "You have been working with a demon. Of all things!" She slammed her palms against the desk. "You, working alongside the very thing we fight day after day. Those things kill thousands before our eyes. They eat the corpses of our loved ones."
"And yet this one is different," the Captain countered, his tone firm. "You brand him a demon, but he's nothing like the others."
"Not like the others? Not like the corpse-devouring freaks that slaughter children for sport? Mark, you're fooling yourself!" Her mana swirled like a raging ocean, its waves crashing against Mark's. "If you keep spouting unreasonable claims, I must agree with The Temple on your exile! He is the same as the very thing that killed everyone here!" Mary shouted, her voice trembling with disbelief.
"Do you honestly believe this is all coincidences or unplanned timing?" Mark said. His gaze never faltered. "From the very moment it began, I could tell something was being orchestrated. I told you. I warned you, Mary, this day would come." His mana pushed back, the invisible force producing a crushing pressure. "Where are your watchers? The priests tasked with observing the city for crises? Did they send any alarms throughout the city? No!" Mark shouted. "Their bodies were never found! Rose even claimed she hadn't seen one in a day or so!"
"How dare you—" Mary gritted her teeth, seething with anger.
"Stop!" Mark said. He rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Listen to me! Who gave the order to leave? I asked Lydia, and she didn't know. Did you tell them to abandon their posts?"
Mary's mouth opened, but no words came out. Her throat tightened.
"How did they know to run before the attack?' Mark continued. "The cathedral's priests are under your command. Where are they, Mary?" He paused before making his point. "You're telling me it's unreasonable to criticize the actions of The Temple, yet what can you say to defend this?"
A knock at the door cleaved through the building tension. The Captain turned to the large wooden doors. Mary sighed, rubbing her face for a moment before announcing.
"Come in." She said.
The doors swung open silently, revealing Lydia, who was leading Asura by the cuffs. The ogre, grinning wide, spoke up immediately. "Oh hey, old man. Nice to see you again." He said, clearly amused by the ordeal.
The Captain smiled, his mana shifting into a blanket of warmth. Mary shot a look at him, an unspoken question on her face. Is he proud?Is he really smiling after all this?
"I see you made it out unscathed," the Captain said, his smile never faltering. "If only that serpent had knocked some sense into you. I might've thanked it."
"Hah! Me? Respectful?" He blew air from his tight lips. "You've lost your marbles, old fart."
Lydia stepped forward, positioning Asura next to the Captain. She made a move to stay, but Mary's voice stopped her. "You may leave, Lydia." She demanded.
"But—" Lydia looked to Mark, her eyes pleading.
"Now is not the time to argue." Mary sternly demanded.
"With all due respect, I will not leave." Lydia stood defiantly, her gaze meeting Mary's. "I know Wain came in here earlier to testify for Asura. I will be testifying on his behalf too."
Asura beamed, showing his sharp teeth, and Mary recoiled slightly at the sight. "I don't need any more testimonies," Mary said, her voice cold. "My judgment is clear."
"Mary," the Captain interjected, his voice even.
"I will not be persuaded otherwise. His existence is blasphemous." Mary looked from Asura to the Captain, her frustration mounting. "A demon wielding holy mana? Outrageous, and he will be purged." She stated as she straightened her back. "The Temple will crucify him even if I don't. If people discover this, they will no longer trust us. The very thing that killed their families cannot be seen as one of us!"
"Actually, I'm not related to the thing that killed their families." Asura said nonchalantly before Lydia sharply elbowed his side.
"What?" Mary stared. Her gaze burned like a challenged mother.
"I'm an ogre. Not a demon, ya stuck-up racist-" He paused, debating his choice of words. "Hmph. I'm not even a dragon."
"You are all the same! A dragon. An ogre. A succubi. All you know is eat and kill." She said, growling out every word.
"I've never eaten anyone…" Asura replied. "Can't say the same for killing. But it was a cultist, so it doesn't count. Never killed a civilian—at least, not that I know of…" Asura sighed. "I'm not helping my case, am I?"
The Captain rubbed his brow and sighed. "Look, I know you don't trust him. But he's the reason Lydia, Rose, Kane, Ash, and your sister Mel are still alive. If it weren't for him, your city would be nothing but the birthplace of an Apocalypse!"
Mary crossed her arms, eyes sharp with suspicion. "And I'm supposed to believe a demon willingly helped humans? For what reason would he have other than to gain our trust before stabbing us in the back?" She shot a glance at the ogre. "How do you even know he isn't working with Malachi?"
"Cause I beat his ass a few times." Asura retorted before Lydia elbowed him in the ribs again.
"You're not helping," she muttered.
"What?" Asura said, scoffing. "It's true. Hell, I'm the one who figured it out after we followed him to the strip club."
"You went to a strip club?" Lydia asked. Her eyes were wide in confusion.
Mary slammed her fist against the desk, rattling pens and shifting papers. "Captain, what are we even debating? We remove him and move on." She stated as if she were a judge declaring a verdict.
"I need him." Mark stated, his resolve unyielding before his superior.
"For what?" She urged a desperate plea for him to yield.
The Captain's voice turned grave. "An Apocalypse has arrived in the human realm. We haven't seen one in a century. And this is just the beginning—Jormungandr is only the first." He leaned forward, pressing his large muscular arms against the table. "The kings of the monsters are restless, unsatisfied. They will be coming next."
"Then we tell The Temple. We handle this as humans. Together." Mary said. Her eyes searched Mark's face.
Silence fell between them as their mana clashed, thickening the air. Asura tensed under the pressure, sweat forming on his brow. He coughed, glancing at Lydia, who struggled beside him. Their knees began to buckle. "Can you not kill us both?" He asked.
The mana ceased. Mary's piercing gaze locked onto Asura's white eyes, searching for any hint of hunger, any sign that he was just waiting to devour them. But there was nothing. He didn't even blink, simply holding her stare.
"I'll put my life on the line for him," the Captain said.
Mary broke eye contact, turning to him in disbelief. "What?"
"If I'm wrong, I'll admit it. I'll turn myself in. I'll be executed for blasphemy." Mark straightened his back.
"Captain—" Mary said. Her voice was quiet, laced with disbelief.
"I'm serious. I'd wager my life on this kid." Mark grasped Asura's shoulder, shaking the monster. "The Temple can't be trusted, and you know it. Someone tampered with your city's communication. Someone is hiding something." His golden eyes blazed with a fire that Mary had only witnessed during his prime. "All I'm asking is you do not report him. I'll train and watch over him myself."
"You're asking me to commit treason." Mary countered, snapping at the request.
"I'm asking you to think, Mary." Mark paused. "I raised you after your parents died until you left with Thomas. Will you trust this old man one last time?"
Mary sighed, rubbing her temples. She groaned just the same as her sister did. Asura chuckled, she had the same habit as Mel when forced into something she didn't want to do. The sisters truly were alike.
After what felt like hours of contemplating she responded. "Fine." She met the old man's gaze with a fire of her own. "I'll go along with this. Just this once. Since you're like an uncle to me, I won't report it, no one saw him use mana anyway."
Her fiery gaze shifted to Asura. "While you're here, you do not use your mana unless you're in the locked training room. Do you understand?"
Asura glanced at Mark. "While I'm here?" He asked.
"We're staying here for a month or two," Mark confirmed.
"Why?" Asura pressed.
"The cathedral was attacked," Mark said, bluntly.
"What!?" Asura's eyes widened. The thought of Lily resurfacing after the chaos.
"Malachi had something planned while you were away, just like I predicted," Mark said. Continuing as if the situation was an afterthought. "A gorgon, a beastman, hydras, griffins, drakes, dragons, Ursa's sons… they all came for the cathedral."
Asura's stomach twisted. "Are Lily, Marco, and Joel okay?" He barely wished to know the answer. If they were hurt, he'd be sick.
"They're fine." Mark answered. "Thomas is watching over them and the town."
"Thomas?" Asura's brow furrowed. "Who—why did they attack?"
"I have no clue but there's no need to panic. I handled it."
Asura narrowed his eyes. "Handled it how?"
"I killed them all." Mark shot him an irritated glare. His voice was gruff. "Quit worrying—I can protect my town."
Asura never doubted the old man's strength, but something felt off. There was no way Malachi didn't have more hidden pieces in play. "He never got to the children?"
"No. I had it under control. The town is safe." He answered, waving away his concern. "The cathedral's just a little damaged."
"Then let's go back and—" Asura said. Urging for them to return. However, Mark gripped Asura's shoulder sternly. "It's okay. We are going to train her for a month or two. Thomas can handle the town and children."
Mary groaned, rubbing her forehead. "I just hope Uncle Tom doesn't fill their heads with his nonsense."
Mark turned to Asura. His gaze was strong like a father passing wisdom to his son. "I need you more informed now than ever, Asura. You will be sparring with Lydia in your free time. When you're not sparring, you'll be studying."
"I don't wanna…" Asura slumped his shoulders, pouting at the old man's grin. Then, Mark pressed a black phone into his hand. "Sorry, son. You're now a full-fledged member of the team."
Asura stared at the phone in disbelief. "Can I at least take off these handcuffs?" He asked.
"Lydia, please remove—" The sound of metal straining made Mary shiver. She watched as Asura simply pulled the handcuffs apart, snapping the chains with ease. The broken links dangled from his wrists. The ogre smirked. "What? You think those would hold me?"
The three of them left Mary's office, their voices fading as they disappeared down the hall. Their exit felt swift, almost abrupt, leaving behind a silence that settled uncomfortably in the room.
Mary turned to the window, her gaze sweeping over the city stretched out before her. The sky was a brilliant blue, not a single cloud in sight. It felt like an omen of peace, or at least, it should have been. But as she stared into the vast emptiness, unease curled in her chest.
Something was coming. And no clear sky could convince her otherwise.