“This is not the only place that is killing this land,” said Lyle as he stepped toward Oren. “I intend on striking other places and saving them, but I need strong warriors with your ability. Are you interested in being today’s hero?”
“I’m afraid not,” said Oren before he stepped down from the rabbles and walked toward the tree spirits. “I fought alongside these creatures because I had questions, and they had answers. Send my regards to Arthur.”
“Should I have helped?” asked Lyle after a few moments of silence. Hearing the question, Oren stopped walking and watched the tree spirits pick up their wounded.
“This is their fight, and I offered to help. If you intervened, we would have attacked, assuming you were the reinforcements coming to this place. You made the right decision, Lyle Mantra.”
After revealing his knowledge of Lyle’s identity, Oren left with the rest of the tree spirits. Lyle stood there, sighing at the destruction and wondering what had happened between Arthur and his brother.
The old researcher climbed down, staring at the destruction of an entire base in an hour. He was amazed, and Lyle couldn’t blame him. These runic soldiers weren’t weak, but it was just that Oren fought ferociously.
“Who is that man?” asked the old researcher with fear, but Lyle didn’t answer. Instead, he stared at the researcher with a threatening smile. “I know all about the other bases and their weak points!”
“Then, we need to get going. We don’t have a lot of time left,” said Lyle while staring at his badge. A new order arrived, which dictated that all knights return to the capital in three days. “The executions are beginning.”
“…who are you, brother?” asked the old researcher as he adjusted his glasses. “Are-re you a rebel? However, you are far more disciplined to be one. Can it be that you are from another kingdom?”
Lyle pocketed his badge before walking toward one of the runic workshops in this base. If he wanted to defeat the emperor, he’d have to obtain a reasonable estimation of the strength the emperor would get through this project.
“W-wait!” shouted the researcher as he followed after him. “There are many still alive under these rabbles. Are we going to leave them here?”
“There is no need to worry,” said Lyle as he walked toward the workshop. “I’ll make sure to kill them all.”
“That is cruel, sir!” the old researcher said in horror. “I suggest we imprison them or make use of them as hostages. Killing them would only birth more enemies.”
pAn,Da-n0v e1,c
This very project was what sparked the rebellion. After the death of the runic grandmaster and Gray’s father, the emperor began this project. However, in the beginning, it was merely an experiment to understand the elements within the human body.
Zonas Mantra knew the truth about the emperor, but none realized there would be another incident like before. It was that experiment that killed Anna, the girl all of them, tried to protect but failed.
His brothers and sisters died, all falling into that runemaster’s hands. There were always elements within the human body, he said. All they had to do was harvest it, but… it killed the target. Anna was the first victim, and his revenge began once Lyle knew the real culprit.
“I don’t know what sort of past you have, brat, but it wouldn’t matter in the grand scheme of….”
Before the old researcher could finish his words, Lyle seized him by the throat. His fingers tried to crush his neck, and the old researcher struggled to break free.
“Listen here, old man. We are not friends, nor are we allies. You are the prisoner, and I am the captor. Once this is over, I’ll kill you like I’ll kill the rest of these researchers. I’ll also kill every last one of their families if there is a need. You are all a bunch of sadistic shits pretending to work for science.”
The old researcher was growing weaker, and his arms stopped flailing. In the end, his arm dropped to the side, and white foam started coming out of his mouth. Lyle stared at him before releasing him, letting the old bag of bones fall to the ground, coughing.
“HAAA!” gasped the researcher, as if he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs. He stared at Lyle with fear, but all he saw was green fire leaking from his body as the silhouette of a green phoenix appeared.
“I should have burned this place to the ground the moment I laid eyes on it,” said Lyle as his eyes reflected the green flames, which jumped around like fireflies. “Explode.”
As the flames heard his commands, a big fire exploded with Lyle at the center. The old researcher jumped in fright as he ran away from the fire, but they avoided him and headed toward the rabbles instead.
As soon as the flames touched the building, they exploded to shake the ground. Screams of agony resonated inside the camp, prompting Oren Silvera and the rest to turn around. The green fire didn’t touch the trees but spared no living researchers or guards.
Lyle could sense someone was coming toward him, and he turned around to find Oren Silvera staring at the exploding flames, which had replaced the night’s starry sky. His half-ashen hair fluttered in the wind as he gazed at Lyle’s rage.
“You remind me of my brother,” said Oren Silvera without looking at Lyle. “He is full of rage, as well as if that is the only thing he can feel. Even if I hadn’t attacked today, you would have killed these researchers, right?”
“None of them deserve to live, Oren Silvera,” replied Lyle. “These humans are worse than monsters. Even monsters would spare their own kind, but not humans. We have the capacity for evil.”
“You said we, not they,” pointed out the young warrior. Lyle turned to stare at him, and Oren looked straight into his eyes. “You have that, too, right? The capacity to do wrongs, and for evil.”
“I’ll be evil to those who wronged me,” said Lyle as he stared at Oren, who sighed and reached his hand in front of him. A sword began to form, making Lyle frown. “What are you doing, Oren Silvera?”
“Don’t worry,” said Oren with a smile as a liquid-like sword appeared in his hand. “This sword does not kill anything except rage. How about we play a little game?”
“Your brother asked me to avoid fighting you,” said Lyle as he paid Oren no interest, although he didn’t doubt his words. He was a swordsman and knew when someone was trying to kill him. “Leave, now.”
“Hear me out,” said Oren with a smile. “You asked me to help take down the other bases, right? I would do that if you won. This sword can erase the world’s rage, and I want to test it. If it does, then your rage was fragile, to begin with, and I win.”
“Your brother should have taught you not to play with fire, kid,” said Lyle as his rage boiled. Although Lyle admired him earlier, Oren was starting to irritate him, carrying a look on his face that could only be seen in innocent children. “Rage is necessary in this world. Otherwise, justice will never be served.”
“What is the difference between justice and revenge?” asked Oren Silvera as he took his stance. Lyle was silent, waiting for him to spit out whatever nonsense he had. “One is dealt with serenity, and the other with rage. You are not seeking justice but revenge.”
“Whatever emotions I have, it would still be justice!”
“Is it justice to kill these runemasters’ families, as you said? That is what rage does; similar to these flames, it burns everything it touches, including yourself.”
“A kid who never encountered hardships shouldn’t lecture me about right and wrong,” said Lyle as he took out his sword as well. His aura changed as the flames gathered around his body. “My swordsmanship is the optimum of serenity, so let’s see what you have to say after this.”
“I can see the result of our fight,” said Oren with his big, green eyes. “Your swordsmanship will fail for the first time in your life. This is the day you have dreaded, where your rage becomes your enemy instead of your comfort.”
Lyle stomped his foot on the ground, sending a flames pulse around him. Then, he rushed forward with his sword, slashing at Oren, who stood there with his flimsy stance.
Oren’s stance had no swordsmanship or art, so Lyle scoffed at the young kid who dared to mock him. He wouldn’t kill Arthur’s brother, but teaching him a lesson wouldn’t be out of the question.
“Your mind is not serene, swordsman. This is… your loss.”
