Arc 1: The Bloodbath-Chapter 1: The Chosen Ones

Aquila's sky wore a mournful gray.

Rummage...

In an alley that reeked of damp mold and despair, the sound of rusted metal scraped against rotting wood. A skeletal child in tattered clothes was digging through a trash bin. A cold draft emanated from the end of the alley, carrying with it a shadow that glided silently.

"There's nothing..." the child's voice whispered, faint and weak.

A shiver ran down his spine. The child looked up abruptly, eyes wide with terror. Too late.

An icy hand clamped down on his shoulder. He struggled, screaming in vain.

"Help! Somebody, help me!"

A few figures on the street glanced over. One quickened their pace; another paused with a look of detached curiosity. But agonizingly, no one came forward.

"You bastards!" the child roared, pulling a dull knife from his pocket and stabbing backward at the arm that held him fast.

"HAHA!"

A dry laugh echoed, then died. The figure didn't even flinch. A venomous gust of wind blew past, flipping back the hood to reveal a half-rotted face, with maggots squirming in its empty eye sockets.

"Ah... AAAA!"

The child's horrified scream was cut short as he and the thing that was once human were swallowed by the alley's darkness.

This was a normal occurrence in the hundred years since the change in Aquila, and in all the strongholds and villages of Braum. It had been lifeless for a century. Since the day the tyrant Kranava Ashborn was overthrown, hope did not come to the land of Braum. After the death of the last Ashborn king, heretical cults grew continuously, accompanied by an unstoppable madness that spread across the entire territory.

...

In a pitch-black room.

"...ahh."

Kaega awoke in a space thick with the smell of sawdust and dried blood. Darkness enveloped him, pierced only by a few thin slivers of light seeping through cracks in the wooden planks—just enough for him to realize he was bound. The rough rope bit into his wrists, but he didn't panic. Sixteen years of existence in this hell had taught him that panic was the quickest death.

He held his breath, listening. Outside, there were footsteps and hushed voices.

"...that girl is still hiding like a rat..."

"...are you sure it's her?"

"...definitely her... the boy is weak, he couldn't have gotten far..."

"...wait for him to arrive... to handle it."

Kaega shifted slightly, tensing his muscles in a calculated manner to test the knot's tightness. He glanced to his side. A girl, perhaps younger than him, was also tied up. She was awake, her eyes wide in the darkness, empty and soulless.

His last memory was of a figure in a shining metal mask, relentlessly pursuing him like a hound. He had woven through familiar alleys, but a sharp pain in the back of his neck had plunged everything into darkness.

He didn't care why he was here. The only question was how to get out. His eyes scanned the room, searching for anything that could be used as a weapon, a tool. A shard of broken glass glinted in the corner.

Without a moment's hesitation, Kaega strained, using the edge of his shoe to rub the rope against a sharp corner of a nearby table. His movements were nearly silent, a skill honed over a thousand nights of thievery. The rope loosened. He pulled his hand free, red welts marking his skin.

He looked at the girl.

"Should I save her... could she be a danger?"

Kaega wanted to see if the girl before him was a trap or just another innocent victim like himself. But then his eyes drifted to the ceiling. An attic. The only way out. And it was too high.

He let out a long, almost inaudible breath. A risky investment.

"There's no other way."

Slice!

Kaega used the glass shard he'd just picked up to cut the girl's ropes. His own familiar rusty blade had been taken.

"Hurry up, give me a hand," he commanded in a whisper.

The girl said nothing, only nodding silently. Her movements were surprisingly quick and decisive. Kaega pointed toward the attic.

"Help me get up there."

The girl understood immediately, cupping her hands to form a foothold. Kaega stepped up, grabbed the wooden ledge, and pulled himself up. As soon as his feet were on the attic floor, he immediately reached his hand down.

"Get up here."

The girl looked up at his hand, a flicker of hesitation in her soulless eyes.

"Why... are you helping me?" Her voice was thin, devoid of purpose.

Kaega looked straight into her eyes, without a trace of emotion.

"Because I can't survive and get out of here alone. Right now, you are useful."

That blunt truth was surprisingly effective. The girl didn't hesitate any longer, taking his hand and climbing up.

From the attic window, Kaega saw dozens of armed figures surrounding the building. A bizarre carriage, decorated with bones and twisted symbols, was approaching. A cold sense of unease ran down his spine.

"Do you know how to climb?"

The girl nodded again.

"Good."

Kaega slipped through the window, his feet finding purchase on the wall's ledge, moving across the roof as skillfully as a stray cat. He glanced back; the girl followed right behind, her steps shockingly light and steady. Faster than he'd thought.

They glided over rooftops of broken tiles, crossed dark alleys, and blended into the slum known as Rat Alley. The stench of garbage and disease rose up, but to Kaega, it was the smell of home.

They were heading toward their hideout when a figure suddenly appeared, blocking their path. He was lanky, with long, dangling arms, dressed in a gaudy purple suit. His head was as red as a toadstool, his face devoid of pupils, leaving only two black, empty sockets. A string of numbers was tattooed across his face. On his back was a sack that was leaking a thick, red liquid.

Instantly, the girl behind Kaega froze. Her breathing became ragged. Her fingers dug into Kaega's arm, threatening to crush the bone.

"Agh!..."

"What kind of monstrous strength is this..."

Kaega winced in pain but didn't push her hand away. He heard her whisper, her voice lost in terror.

"The... Head... Measurer."

The man smiled, a grin that stretched from ear to ear.

"So you chose to run after all, my... loyal... subordinate?"

His halting speech made the girl grip his arm even tighter. Deep within her vacant eyes, a flame was beginning to kindle.

The man wasn't looking at Kaega, but he knew he was a target as well.

"Who are you?" Kaega asked, his voice frighteningly calm, his right hand slowly moving inside his jacket.

"It seems she hasn't told you anything... Ah, two little mice who just escaped the first test..."

The Head Measurer glanced at Kaega, then set the sack on the ground. Fresh blood seeped out, staining the filthy street.

"You're lucky. I just stopped by the place where you were being held."

Kaega stared at the spreading pool of blood.

"So that would have been our fate if we had stayed."

"HAHAHA!"

The Head Measurer suddenly burst out laughing, a mad, horrifying cackle.

"VERY CLEVER! I'D LOVE TO BREAK EVERY BONE IN YOUR BODY AND THE GIRL'S, BUT..."

The laughter stopped abruptly. His voice became deep and cold as ice.

"Since you escaped on your own, I'll give you a chance. Live until the Blood Feast. But be careful... my hounds like to play at night."

"You don't seem very stable," Kaega remarked, his tone dry and insulting.

Silence fell. The two black sockets of the Head Measurer's eyes seemed to contract.

"What... did you say?"

"A normal person doesn't scream about killing people and then let them go."

The man stared at Kaega, then suddenly threw his head back and let out a long howl like an enraged beast. The curious onlookers scattered in haste.

Kaega noticed that even though her whole body was trembling, the girl's eyes remained fixed on the madman, a look mixed with terror and absolute hatred.

The howl ended. The Head Measurer bent down, face to face with Kaega. His breath smelled of death.

"I hope you live well. A clever head like that... would be a work of art in my collection."

"I'm afraid you won't get that chance."

"We'll see... ha... ha..."

The man stepped back, leaving behind a calculating laugh, and vanished into the gray mist.

Kaega let out a sharp breath. He was feeling uncomfortable now... not because of the threat from the man who had just left, but because of the hand that was squeezing his arm as if to crush it.

"If you squeeze any harder, I think it'll break."

The girl snapped back to reality and released his arm, the fear still etched on her face.

"You hate him that much?"

The girl didn't answer, but her eyes, fixed on the alley where the Head Measurer had disappeared, burned with a silent fire.

"I can help you take his head, but you have to follow me!"

The words were like a slap. The girl spun around. Her eyes returned to their initial soulless state.

"What do you have... power... strength... or money?"

"Do you think those things can kill him?"

Kaega sighed. He looked straight at the girl, whose will to live had all but vanished.

"She's almost given up... but as long as she still wants revenge, there's a chance I can persuade her."

With determined eyes, Kaega spoke up.

"If you think those things can't kill him, then why not come with me?"

The girl paused. Her vacant eyes shifted to him.

"So what's your way?"

Kaega's lips twisted into a cold smirk.

"I have a mind... and there's nothing someone with a mind can't do..."

He stepped forward, the space between them thick with tension. His voice dropped, like a snake slithering on sand.

"I see your incredible potential... and that hatred. You've probably tried everything and failed to take his head. But if you come with me, I guarantee you'll kill him, with only one condition."

Kaega paused for a beat, not wanting to pressure her into resisting. A faint glimmer of light appeared in the girl's eyes.

"I don't need loyalty. I need obedience. In return, I will keep you alive long enough to take his head with your own hands. After that, we are strangers."

He took a step back, creating distance. The cards were on the table.

"Choose," his voice was gentle, as if not forcing her.

"Follow me and bet on the chance to take his head, or leave and die some other day with that fire still burning in your heart?"

He turned his back, an act of absolute confidence, even as a cough threatened to erupt from his chest.

Cold sweat trickled down his neck, but he showed no weakness. He was betting everything. If she refused, this rotting body of his wouldn't last until the next dawn.

Silence. Only the sound of the wind whistling through the broken rooftops. The girl's eyes were no longer just empty and desperate. A fragile will was rising within them.

"I... will..."