DESCENT

Sam could feel his heart pounding against his chest; the nape of his neck gradually grew warmer. He was not sure whether it was because of the smoke, but his throat was getting rather itchy. Though there was a bigger problem for him to worry about.

The pulsing cloud of smog remained stationary, blocking him from reaching the three fledglings. To involve the young ones in this silly altercation – Jack Cindar from three years ago would not dare to do such a thing.

“It’s not too late to stop, Cindar. It’s not too late to be the better person," Sam implored.

“And what does it mean to be the better person?” said Cindar as he emerged from the smoke. “Does that mean being stronger, faster…or perhaps you seek a mellower answer like kinder or nobler?”

“You know exactly what I mean,” Sam lashed back. “What do you have against me, anyway? Well, aside from the crooked nose I gave you.”

“Even if there is a reason, will it give you the comfort of knowing – a justification for your next course of action?”

“Something like that,” Sam let out a heavy sigh. “But I can see you prefer to talk in circles rather than giving a straight answer.”

Sam promptly raised his katana after seeing Cindar unsheathed his gladius. For a moment, he noticed something in the man’s eyes – it was neither anger nor contempt. But before he could ascertain what it was, Cindar was already charging toward him.

Blades collided, filling the entire hall with a deafening metallic sound. Sam felt his entire bones rattled – he expected no less from the Overlord’s former Apprentice. Thus, it was no surprise to him when Cindar persistently swung the gladius, intending to overwhelm him with raw strength.

“One, two, three. One, two, three,” Sam muttered, which caught Cindar’s attention.

“Counting the moment of your demise? How dull.”

“One, two-,” Sam thrusted his sword forward, causing Cindar to stumble backward. Sam smirked; the sight of his opponent nearly falling on his back somewhat amused him. “Even now, you still stalled on your third strike. Just drop this, Cindar – it’s hardly worth it.”

“NO!” Cindar exclaimed, his booming voice echoed throughout the hall. “I have bled – broken every single bone in my body. I did everything the Council told me to, and yet, why? Why can’t I be better than you!”

“What the heck are you talking about?” Sam countered firmly. “You ARE better than me. You were at the top of your batch – aced every examination and hold the highest number of victories in mock battles. In case you haven’t realized, you were selected and trained by the Overlord himself.”

“Did you think I joined the Order for recognition? I have no intention of becoming a Faceless, let alone associate myself with the wretched organization. I’m here to destroy it – to burn down everything to the ground. The only thing that stands in my way,” Cindar pointed his finger forward, “is you.”

“I’m flattered you think of me that way, but destroying the Order sounds a bit grim – and also ungrateful. Wasn’t it Thomas who took you in after your father’s sudden passing? He vouched for you back then in spite of the Council’s disapproval.”

Cindar snickered before replying, “He is obligated to do so because of his debt to my father. And what’s this about 'his sudden passing'? No, my father was murdered – taken from me by the Order.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed after he saw Cindar’s gladius being enveloped in a thick, green cloud. However, the smell – it was like the blade was doused in bleach. “Shit,” Sam muttered, his gaze landed on the children as soon as he realized what the vapour was.

“Always so selfless. That’s what makes you weak…and predictable,” Cindar chided. He swung his sword, spreading the pungent gas all around the area.

The children started to cough, causing Sam to yell at Cindar, “For God’s sake, Jack! Leave them out of this!”

“It’s too late for that. You must know by now that collaterals are inevitable-,” Cindar gasped when Sam’s katana rammed against his gladius. Before he could react, he was bombarded with more aggressive sword attacks, forcefully pushing him toward the wall.

Sam’s eyes remained focused on Cindar’s baffled expression. The only way he could stop the nasty vapour was by rendering the man unconscious, but he knew it was easier said than done. As soon as Cindar had his back against the wall, he swiftly rolled out of the way, causing Sam’s blade to be embedded into the hardwood.

Seeing an opportunity, Cindar pulled his gladius back, preparing to stab his enemy. In return, Sam quickly yanked out his sword and, at the same time, scattered some of the wooden debris at Cindar’s face.

“What a childish trick,” said Cindar as he swatted the flying splinters. The next thing he saw was the edge of the katana heading straight for his eyes. His instinct kicked in; his body jerked downward until his face was an inch away from the floor. Then, in the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Sam scurrying away.

“Hey there, are you guys alright?” Sam asked the terrified trio; a warm smile spread across his face. The children responded with a nod, giving him a slight relief. Turning around, his gaze settled on Cindar, who was already back on his feet. “Stay close. I’m going to get you out of here.”

“Here I thought I’m the only one who fights dirty,” Cindar sneered.

“Just let them go, Cindar – that’s all I’m asking you,” Sam pleaded.

“That would be impossible. They’ve seen too much – heard too much. Besides, do you recall what I said earlier? They will make fine accessories for your ‘brief moment of insanity’.” Cindar hurried forward, his sword raised over his head. He brought it down, connecting the sharp edge with Sam’s katana.

Startled by the assault, Sam mustered all of his strength trying to repel Cindar's onslaught, but the latter kept on advancing until the gladius slowly dug into the former’s right shoulder.

“Don’t hold it in. Scream – as loud as you can,” Cindar said calmly as he saw Sam’s shirt gradually soaked in blood. “How unfortunate for you to be out at this hour. If only you had stayed in your room, then perhaps you would still be alive and well.”

“Actually, I’m…exactly where I need to be. That hardest part is…the waiting.”

“Waiting? Waiting for what?”

Cindar’s head snapped toward the front door as he heard it swing open. A slim woman in a violet leather jacket walked in – her skin was as pale as alabaster with a patch of freckles across her concave nose. Her long, pixie-cut hair was as red as a roaring fire; her eyes were like a pair of amethysts. Strapped to her back was a black grip zweihander – the Mortal Pain – the sword that had taken down hundreds of Giant Class Distorted.

“Rowanna…Zinnia,” Cindar murmured, his voice trembled.

Instead of commenting on the situation in front of her, Rowanna drew her zweihander and placed it on the weapon rack. She then tossed her jacket to the ground, revealing a black sleeveless shirt and two bandaged arms.

“I warned Thomas about you, but of course, he wouldn’t listen,” said Rowanna as she slowly made her approach.

Cindar pulled his gladius off Sam’s shoulder, setting his sight on the imposing figure. “Let me remind you that you’re not a Hornet anymore, Imperatrix. So, you don’t have the power to enforce the rules.”

“I’m not here to enforce the rules,” Rowanna replied. “You threaten my fledglings, and as the Lady of the Swallowtail, I am permitted to use any means necessary to neutralize any threats, whether it’s external…or internal.”

Cindar's lips twitched as if he was trying to say something. But Rowanna quickly changed his mind by simply raising her hand. “Don’t even think of telling me this is all just a big misunderstanding or you were fooling around,” the red-haired woman growled.

“Give me a break, Rowanna-.”

“That’s Zinnia, to you – and the first thing you need to do…is to drop that sword.”

Cindar looked down at his gladius; the pompous smile he usually wore disappeared without a trace.

“Don’t,” said Sam, noticing the awfully familiar glint in his foe’s eyes. “Don’t do it. You’ll only get yourself killed.”

“First, by a rakshasa – then, a heretic. I’m done taking orders from anyone,” Cindar murmured before rushing onward, determined and resolute. Sam’s hands instinctively tried to seize the man, but his wounded shoulder stopped him dead in his tracks. He could only watch as Cindar closed in on Rowanna, who remained unfazed by the incoming attack.

In the blink of an eye, Rowanna easily slapped the gladius out of Cindar’s hand, the latter completely frozen in place.

“Still hasn’t improved your grip, I see,” the woman expressed her disappointment. She briskly grabbed the man by the collar and hurled him across the room. Cindar let out a loud squeak as he crashed to the floor – he thrashed around, clutching his throbbing chest.

Rowanna then looked over to Sam, her eyes landed on the man’s bloodied shirt. “You know you deserved that – for using the Nightingales to lure me here.”

Sam felt his heart stop for a brief second. He expected Rowanna would find out about his scheme, but not this quickly – and especially, not with some…unforeseen outliers. Looking over his shoulder, the children's attention was no longer on Cindar but on the newly arrived visitor.

“And you three should be in your bed. That…will be a month's detention,” Rowanna remarked sternly.

“Yes, ma’am,” the trio answered simultaneously, visibly terrified by the woman.

Rowanna shifted her focus back to Cindar, who was still lying on the floor. Her mind told her to go to the man - her instinct, however, sensed something amiss. She scanned the entire room, noticing a suspicious reddish-brown smoke floating over the floor.

“What the devil are you doing! Cease at once, Cindar. You’re only making this worse on yourself,” the red-haired woman called out.

“I…refuse,” Cindar hissed before slowly rising to his feet. He lifted his right hand, pointing it toward his sword. The thin dark smoke gathered around the weapon, raising it above the ground. The gladius then glided smoothly through the air until it landed safely in its owner's hands.

“Why don’t they always listen?” Rowanna sighed.

Guided by his gladius, Cindar launched himself toward the woman. He flew across the room as if he were being pushed by an unseen force, and the moment the tip of the sword went into Rowanna’s chest, a wide, triumphant grin appeared on Cindar’s sweaty face.

“That’s it? That’s the best you could do?” Rowanna glared at him.

“W-what? Impossible,” Cindar stammered, his gleeful smile turned into a confused frown.

Rowanna grabbed hold of the gladius with her bare hands, slowly pulling the shining blade out of her body. There was only a tiny spot of blood at the end; the sight of it made Cindar shudder.

“Using your power inside the Tower, harming your fellow colleagues and the fledglings with the intent to kill – not to mention your plan to destroy the Faceless Order…”

Cindar tried to pry his blade out of Rowanna’s grip, only to receive a swift kick in the stomach. The man instantly dropped to his knees, retching and gasping for air.

“Hm, what fine craftsmanship. A shame - such a shame,” said Rowanna as she inspected the gladius.

“Hypocrite,” Cindar growled, “Not allowed to use our power inside the Tower? You used the Boon of the Water Spirit, didn’t you? That’s what stopped my sword from going through your body.”

Rowanna rolled her eyes before carefully pressing the tip of the gladius against Cindar’s forehead. Her fingers fidgeted, as if they were tempting her to push the sword into the man’s skull – but the clean-up would be too troublesome. “You’re not really in the position to say something like that,” Rowanna spouted. “Anthony and Lara – those were the names of the two Apprentices whose lives were cut short by an ‘accidental cave-in’. Decent people, those two were, even though they intended to leave the Order – and they were good friends of mine.”

“Are you trying to imply that I have something to do with their deaths?”

“Imply? We are way past that,” said Rowanna. “We found ample evidence of your involvement with the cave-in – enough to sever that big head of yours from your body. Your days are numbered, Jack Cindar.”

“You don’t get to decide that,” Cindar lashed back. He reached out his right hand, calling the brown vapour to his side, but then, he saw a silver gleam flash past his eyes, and the next thing he knew, his entire right arm flew into the air before it landed near Rowanna’s feet.

A bloodcurdling scream poured out of Cindar’s mouth; it was unlike anything he had ever uttered before. He looked over to his limb – now reduced to a bloody stump; his face twisted in fear and pain.

“So dramatic…and loud,” Rowanna grumbled, shaking her head in exasperation.