The four guardians dispatched by Marcho had been on the road for some time, heading to assist Yuhen. All four were men of iron will, known within Haxar’s silent walls for their unwavering loyalty. Marcho had not sent them blindly; his instincts were sharp. If these four could stop the enemy before they reached Haxar, the war might end before it even began blood might yet be spared.
But the enemy was not alone. Their arrival had changed even the taste of the air.
Siena, Schtell, Carlson, Emhil, Thruse, Sindra, Aalar, Erlrun, Doera, and Mallroth.
Ten dark figures. Ten names, ten intentions. Their faces were masked black cloth covering their mouths and noses, etched with familiar symbols. The same masks worn by Pegwalsge’s crew. Some bore the emblem of Jaleron’s Red Sand, others the Three-Headed Dragon of Xakha.
The guardians flinched at the sight of those masks. Even their steel-like resolve trembled slightly as they realized they stood face to face with what could only be Glatsyans.
These ten were not a people. Nor a race. They were not even a species. They were an intent. And that intent had been sent that morning to capture the guardians.
The wind carried the scent of blood before a drop had fallen.
Truia was the first to notice the omen in the air. She raised her hand.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBHmzeXmy1I
"Too quiet," she said, suspicion cutting through her voice like a thorn. "We may be surrounded."
Graum unsheathed his blade. Nedit's hand slid slowly toward his scabbard.
“They've seen us,” Truia muttered. “They were waiting.”
At that moment, Siena lunged from the underbrush. Truia reacted, spreading her Xhu to deflect the dagger, but Siena’s blade had already sliced through her arm. Blood sprayed. Figures emerged from all sides, and the circle tightened.
Schtell charged at Graum, daggers laced with Xhu each cut a scream, each wound a tear in the soul. He slashed Graum’s chest. Graum gritted his teeth and brought his blade crashing to the ground, tearing up the earth. Schtell leapt back, smiling.
Nedit was instantly confronted by Carlson, Emhil, and Thruse. He channeled his Xhu into his chain. As it began to whirl, it grazed Emhil’s neck, but Carlson ducked low and sliced his leg. Thruse didn’t hesitate. His daggers tore through Nedit’s face. Blood drenched his cheek and under-eye like a basin of red.
Hollen clashed with Sindra. Her eyes were pure white. Was she blind or seeing through Xhu? Hollen couldn’t tell. Each of her strikes stabbed at his mind. Even when he slashed a deep wound across her chest, she didn’t flinch. She only laughed.
“This body isn’t mine,” she whispered. “But the pain… will be yours.”
Then Aalar struck from behind, piercing Hollen’s shoulder. His sword fell from his grip. But before collapsing, he released his Wunai Zenxhu. Aalar’s organs burst from within. The air filled with blood.
Truia focused on Siena. She was injured, but her Kotai Zenxhu was buying her time. Siena had an assassin’s speed but Truia was faster. When Siena lunged, Truia was suddenly behind her. Her blade pierced Siena’s chest before she could blink. But just then, Erlrun struck from the side, stabbing Truia in the shoulder and abdomen. She dropped to her knees. The daggers were draining her Xhu rapidly.
Doera and Mallroth went for Graum. Mallroth moved like a shadow assassin, his Xhu blurring his movements beyond the eye’s grasp. Graum swung blindly, but struck only haze. Mallroth stabbed his knee. Doera followed, plunging her blade into his back. The pain seared not only his flesh but his soul.
Graum grunted once more before falling to his knees. His final words:
“I’m losing… all my Xhu…”
Then he collapsed.
The agents had neutralized three guardians. Only Nedit remained.
His face was shattered. One eye drowned in blood. His leg was broken but he was still standing. His chain trembled in his hand. Before him stood nine figures. Some bore wounds, but all stood tall.
“Drop your chain. Surrender,” Emhil said, his dagger pressed to Graum’s throat.
Nedit wondered how many he could take with him before dying. But the sight of his fallen friends crushed the thought. He didn’t resist. He dropped his chain.
Their empty stares… especially the helplessness in Truia’s final glance… left him with one choice: not to resist, but to live. Maybe he could find a way. Maybe there was still a crack in the walls of fate.
He breathed. Dropped the chain.
And surrendered.
But peace requires intention. And the intention of K’iren’s agents had always been written in blood.
Silence fell. Then a voice:
“That’s it?” Mallroth asked. “Wouldn’t it have been better to die on your feet?”
Nedit lowered his head, teeth clenched. He had broken his oath. A guardian does not surrender not even for his comrades. They kill. Or they die.
And then
Blood splashed across Nedit’s cheek. Hollen’s head rolled backward. Blood gushed like a freed river. For a heartbeat, nothing moved. Even time held its breath.
Nedit’s eyes widened. Sweat poured down his chin. Trembling, he screamed:
“YOU SON OF A BITCH!”
Sindra stepped forward, slow and calm. Her dagger still glistened with Hollen’s warm blood.
“Blood for blood,” she whispered.
Nedit tried to lunge. Reached for his chain. But Carlson grabbed him from behind and smashed his face into the dirt.
Sindra crouched down.
“Death isn’t a transaction it’s a language,” she said. “And we speak it fluently, guardian. You're still seeking revenge. But by what right?”
Nedit couldn’t lift his head. His eyes scanned his unconscious comrades. Then he saw Hollen’s severed head. Tears slid down his face. Rage tore through his chest but there was nothing left to give. The daggers had drained all his Xhu. He could not resist.
He still felt the blade in his bones. He could barely move. And he realized everything he lived through was only pain. And that pain was draining what little he had left.
Mallroth broke the silence. He was re-sheathing his daggers. His voice was soft, but as cold and absolute as stone.
“Chain the conscious one. Bind the unconscious. Leave the dead.”
Schtell knelt beside Graum.
“No pity,” he muttered. Just the weary discipline of completing a task. “His bones are shattered, but his spirit’s not. His Xhu’s leaking, but he’s still resisting. Don’t know if he’ll make it to Haxar.”
“Make sure he does,” Mallroth said. Then turned to Nedit. “You’ll walk the whole way. Chained.”
Carlson grabbed Nedit’s arms, forcing him upright. Nedit groaned in pain but didn’t resist. His chest heaved with fury.
Sindra leaned in, tilting her head. “We must get you to Haxar, guardian.”
Nedit spat the words through gritted teeth.
“I hope I don’t make it. I hope I die on the road, so you bastards never get what you want.”
Sindra smiled. “Oh, you’ll die. But not on the road.”
Mallroth began to walk. His footsteps ground the silence beneath them. The other masked figures moved with him. Some dragged the guardians. Others tied wounds with cloth.
Mallroth turned once more. His eyes scanned the forest swallowed by shadow, then the blood they left behind.
“Move,” he said. “Doera, Erlrun, Sindra you come with me. The rest of you, take the guardians. Head to Haxar.”
And then…
The wind blew again. It carried the scent of blood, the rot of spent Xhu, and the heavy breath of death. Through the forest, a path opened soaked in red.
The guardians were dragged, their eyes half-shut, their bodies trembling. Nedit remained standing on one broken leg, walking like a ghost of defeat, a chain of silence stretching behind him.
They marched toward Haxar.
ns18.116.80.77da2
