The floor was icy cold beneath his knees. Kael couldn’t move a single muscle as he stared at the portal; now closed as if it returned to its slumber. His eyes fixed steady. His only heartbeat challenged the sound of the howling chilly wind, slow but strong, pummeling against his chest. What just happened? He could hear voices echoing inside his head. Kael Denvorn, the King’s Guard, Protector of Ice Crown, and Divine Knight of Glacia, had failed once again. The biggest failure he had. The worst one.
Light snow rained like thousand questions, pummeling Kael harder and harder into the ground, driving him into insanity. What had he done? Was this the end of his duty? Was the King dead after getting trapped in the Underworld? What would the councilors say? What would the people of Glacia say? What now?
With a single, slow exhale from his mouth—white mist released—Kael tried to process the situation in front of him. T
Arth coughed at the cold wind blowing against his face as they ascended into the blue-green skies. His mouth and throat thirsted dryly beneath his mask. He had forgotten the air in the Underworld could slowly intoxicate human lungs if breathed for too long, worse if the clouds were to be inhaled, so he’s glad to have the mask on. But how the hell could he stay longer to find Janshai in this wretched world? A series of coughs escaped his mouth.“Just hold your lungs ‘till we get there, we’re close,” Sir Edric said in front of him, looking down. “Ain’t that beautiful scenery, Your Highness?”Arth gripped the General’s leather vest tighter before he glanced down. Dark, bluish mountains expanded beneath them as if they’re continuous waves amidst a sea of dread and depth. He only saw mountains and ranges. He had no idea what the General found in it that made him see its beauty. &ld
Tristan could not bear it much longer. The salty air combined with the stank of his vomit, of piss, of rotten food, along with the sickening motion of the ship, would soon end him before he could even get out. His mouth bled from his wounded tongue. Bruises from his arms and legs screamed pain. His gut ached as if every breath he’d take had pained whatever was left of him.Tristan winced as he raised his head to look. Several prisoners sat behind their bars, waiting for something. No more than ten, Tristan counted. Could they do it?“I swear if this won’t work you’ll be the first one I’d kill before I get out of this ship,” Tristan whispered towards the next cell where Lewis sat.The young noble let out a raspy chuckle. “I’ll give it to you, then.”Tristan fixed his gaze on the man, remembering what had gotten into him that made him agree to follow Lewis’
Kael had not expected this kind of path towards the citadel, a hell one. He stood outside the Northern Gate of the capital, barefoot on the freezing cobblestones. Both ankles and his only wrist, all chained together. The chains had one end tied to the mounted Grand Knight in front of him, and the other end at another rider behind Kael.He coughed hard. The anti-magic collar locked on his neck glowed and tightened every time he’d attempt to cast any spell, as it had an incredibly high sensitivity to alar.The enormous gates opened, revealing crowds of citizens on both sides of the street. Kael squinted as the chilly wind breezed against him. Shouting, yelling, cursing—the citizens looked nothing pleased with seeing Kael. Their eyes hungered for him, he could sense it.A Walk of Mortification … something Kael had never thought of happening to himself. Many times he had sent and guided criminals into the walk
Arth had no idea such a thing existed; making humans become demons. He had never seen a human turned into an actual demon … only a possessed one; when Dethnar’s spirit had taken over Lucas’ body. How on Earthos was it possible? That could relate to how the undead had come into life. No … not alive … a demon was only controlling those dead beings. But for Ka’erns; demon-turned humans—they had their way of thinking, consciousness, and perhaps … feelings. Once humans before, but their bodies, power, and purpose had changed after becoming Ka’erns.“These Ka’erns …” Arth said as he and Edric entered the General’s Den. “They trouble me more now that you’ve told me.”“Just as your father had been,” the General replied. “But his life’s end came sooner than we expected.”Mentioning his father’
Tristan tasted blood as he bit the filthy hand that gaped his mouth, then he heard the pirate scream behind him. With a hard reel backward, Tristan shoved him until they bumped into the bulwark. He freed the palm from his bloody teeth, turned around, then pushed the pirate over the rail with a forward thrust of his fist.Screams and grunts of men noised all around him. Tristan spat the blood remaining in his mouth and wiped his lips. That’s a close one. He almost had let that pirate slit his throat with the dagger. He had lost grip of his sword after plunging it through the gut of the pirate when that dying fool held the blade of the sword, preventing Tristan from pulling it out. That’s when the pirate from behind had grabbed him by his face.With a quick glance on the ship’s deck, he could see the prisoners around him disarming the pirates, fighting with impressive hand-to-hand combat skills. This made Tristan doubt
The pain lingered beneath Kael’s ragged clothing, as he had finished wrapping his wounds with the garments given to him. He dried the jug of water and ate the loaf of cold bread. As he chewed its hard texture, a series of flashbacks of what had happened to him earlier clouded his thoughts. He had come to endure every slap, scratch, spit … every shout and curse that barked out of their mouths … every little harm that they’d done to him. His public execution would come on the next day. However, Kael had no plans of making an appearance.Ever since they’d thrown Kael in this lonely cell, he became quieter than the cold silence in the dark, only words of shame about him kept on repeating in his mind. It pushed him close to madness. But then Robert, the son of Chief Gregor Doran from Frostwood, had come under a guard’s disguise to ask about the King’s whereabouts.“Answer me, Sir Kael,&rdquo
The cold, hardly breathable wind breezed on Arth’s face, though he wore his mask, the air outside smelled toxicity. He raised his head, only to see nothing but red-orange skies. “How do you determine if it’s day or night?”“We can’t.” Elicantris made no stop as they walked along the upward flank of the mountain. “There’s no telling if a day has passed in this world, Your Highness. I also believe the time here runs faster compared to our world.”“Really?” Arth stared at her short, black hair ahead of him. “So that means we get older here faster than our normal time?”“From what I presume, yes.”Arth could also feel the gravity was much stronger in the Underworld. It made him remember his time in the Desoland with Janshai before where his muscles ached from enduring the force too long to keep his entire body up. Now was d
A loud crash of waves hit the left board at the same instant the Pirate Lord swung his glowing sword. Tristan blocked and grunted at the vibrating impact as both swords clanged, but the sudden sway of the ship triggered his nausea, distracting him. With a flash of a grin on his face, the pirate grabbed Tristan’s head and gripped it downward to meet his knee. Tristan heard a break of a bone in his face as the knee hit him hard. It was his nose; he realized. The pirate pulled Tristan’s head upward to look, smiling wickedly with one golden tooth, then he dragged Tristan by his hair, swinging until he smashed against a black cannon.Tristan squeezed his eyes shut, curling himself on the floor as he suffered from the pain. He thought he had heard his back crack against the cannon. This wasn’t turning good. He’s too overpowered by the strong and unwounded Pirate Lord. And he could not use his swordsmanship style without Snow and