Chapter 48: Polochko 1

Polochko's POV

Polochko slipped into the building, his eyes sharp yet weary as he meticulously scanned his surroundings. Each step he took was silent and defined. Not a single movement was wasted.

Polochko glanced at the dimly ticking watch on his wrist, his lips pressing into a tight line. The plan would begin in mere minutes, yet unease gnawed at him like a restless insect. He shifted uncomfortably, his mind instinctively comparing the mess they were about to execute to the intricate web of strategies crafted by Pantalone—plans layered with contingencies and backed by reliable intelligence.

This? This was nothing like that. There were no detailed charts, no reliable intel, just blind action relying on assumptions. Polochko's hand tightened around his spear. The thought of stepping into battle without a safety net made his stomach churn. He inhaled sharply, his disciplined mind screaming at the lack of precision, the glaring cracks in their preparation.

He stopped in his tracks, his gaze drifting to the sky beyond the window. The moon bathed the earth in a silvery glow, its light unbroken by even a single cloud in the pristine night sky, offering a crystal-clear view of the horizon.

"Come out." He said as his gaze lingered on the shadows.

People hiding in the corners laid themselves bare. They wore black and red coats with a white mask, in their hands were daggers coated in a purple liquid that screamed danger. 

Among them, a bulky man with a hammer emerged behind a pillar, he wore a blue coat, a belt with bottles that looked like ammunition to his gun, and a blue mask.

"Looks like a big rat was caught in our trap."

"So it's you, Schiel." Polochko's eyes drifted across the area as the Fatuus encircled him, rendering his escape impossible.

"Heh," Schiel sneered. "What? You're going to beg now? I'm sorry to say this but our orders were to kill. Blame your young master for doing this."

Polochko looked directly at Schiel, his expression cold. "Beg? You should be the ones to grovel, you don't know who you're dealing with."

A series of laughter broke out as they mocked Polochko's provocation.

"Acting tough eh? Let's see if you can live up to that."

Schiel raised his gun and aimed at Polochko. Blue snowy dust fell from his gun as it glowed. A chilling air-powdered snow blasted, it froze the floor below and everything it touched. He continued to blast Polochko, intending to freeze him solid.

A full minute of unending blasts stopped his weapon as smoke came out. Mist covered the surroundings. The haze cleared and an icy blue glacier remained from where Polochko stood.

"Heh, all talk." He sneered as he turned around. The rest of the Fatuus followed behind Schiel as they made their way towards the arena.

Suddenly, a crack broke and a defeating noise banged. They all turned around in a hurry. Before them, flames erupted violently, spearing upward from the once-still surface of the ice, their searing heat swallowing the frigid calm instantly.

Polochko emerged. Flames covered his hands, and his spear blazed with scorching heat, as spears made of pure fire materialized beside him.

"It's a pity," he began, his voice dripping with feigned regret. "I don't like the thought of killing my fellow Fatui." A smirk curled on his lips as he raised his spear, its sharp tip glinting menacingly. "But since you're so desperate for it..." His tone turned mocking, as he pointed the weapon at them with amusement and disdain. "I'll gladly give it—payment in full."

A grin spread across his face as memories of the past surfaced—his days as a relentless debt collector for the Northland Bank, a loyal enforcer obeying without question, a hunter who thrived in the chaos of blood and battle.

The thought of losing himself in the heat of battle as blood and flesh covered his skin enticed him to no end. He longed for that time when he would just follow orders and not worry about consequences, where he could let go of the shackles of reason and responsibilities.

Polochko walked briskly as he slowly approached them. Silence followed as his steps slowly fastened until they turned into a full-on sprint. Panic overwhelmed Schiel as he ordered them to intercept him. He hoisted his gun and reloaded another round as the Fatuus rushed to restrain Polochko.

Polochko's spears shot out and pierced their body before exploding. Blood and flesh rained as the screams of the unfortunate Fatuus filled the air.

Horror filled Schiel's face as he saw the bloodbath before him. Polochko grinned from ear to ear as if enjoying the slaughter.

"You're not the only one with a delusion, you punk!" Schiel hissed. He takes out a red gem from his pocket and slams it on his gun. It glowed eerily as the gun's machinations spiraled. Its muzzles distorted as spikes emerged, and its handguard bled with an eerie blue liquid as its ammunition turned purple.

Polochko frowned. as he fastened his feet towards Schiel. Spears of fire shot out towards Schiel as his gun continued to take form. Molten remains of fallen Fatuus were left on Polochko's tracks, their forms unidentifiable.

Schiel retreated as Polochko continued to pursue. His spear burned red as he took a throwing position. At that moment Schiel turned back towards Polochko and aimed his gun towards him.

"Take this, you bastard!"

Schiel pulled the trigger, unleashing a freezing ray of ice. Simultaneously, Polochko hurled his blazing spear. The two attacks collided resulting in a massive explosion that echoed through the night, shaking the ground and waking every resident. Shockwaves rippled outward, scattering debris in their wake.

Polochko and Schiel were thrown away as a pillar of fire emerged from the collision. Blood oozed and snowy ash rained down. The aftermath that remained was devastating. The roofs were torn, walls were demolished and everything close was turned into ash.

Polochko emerged from the rubble, his figure bloody and tattered.

He made his way, dragging his battered legs as he limped toward what seemed like Schiel's charred corpse. He trusted his spear to the corpse's chest to confirm the kill.

"Young master," He muttered as he limped and made his way towards the arena. Behind him are leftover flames that crawled the curtains and reached the highest point of constructs, slowly devouring the place. People ran frantically as the wails of children echoed. Yet he payed no heed to their cries as he continued to walk towards the dome.

The arena was in view, but what greeted him made his heart sink. A protective barrier made of water covered the dome, preventing anyone from entering or leaving.

He reached his hand and tried to enter, but the currents were strong enough to reject him. Again and again, he tried. Using his spear, he tried to part the currents but to no avail. He jumped with all the strength he had left but was thrown off.

Every option he considered proved ineffective as desperation slowly crept in. Then, suddenly, a scream pierced the air from within—a sound heavy with hatred, sorrow, and rage. A faint tint of red flickered through the barrier as he directed his focus, his attention narrowing to the source of the cry. 

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A/N: How is my art of edging? XD 2/10 isn't it? XD

I used AI for some parts because I didn't have time so it might feel robotic on some parts

3 chapters are done just need polishing but I won't release them yet cause I want to enjoy holidays. Have fun, everyone!