[29]

It all happened too fast.

He felt a force pound against his body as he was sent hurtling sideways. In time, the only thing he saw as he skidded against the floor was a spark of light followed by the sound of clanging metal against metal.

Raising his head with effort, his vision still a bit blurry from having the air knocked out of him, he saw another spark of blades meeting.

The two faced each other, their respective weapons in steadiness between them, and their faces scrunched to look at one another.

"So you're the little kid's 'knight' eh?" The assassin grunted as he pushed against the blade of his opponent. His brown hair crude and his dark hazel eyes glimmering with a certain sadistic intent.

Wearing an armor of mostly brown leather, and a final cloak of black around his mouth, he stood against the blonde knight with a sneerfully radiating face. Even with his mouth hidden, it was quite easy to tell this man held a mocking smile on his face. Either for the fulfillment of disregard or in confidence of his own abilities.

However, Layfon Allen remained silent, his pale blue eyes slightly narrowing under the golden hair that outstretched his youthful facial features. He wore a light armor of nothing more than a simple iron chest plate, arm guards, and a shoe of opened toes that also served as ankle guards; all of white lined with azure. Below all that, he was outfitted in cotton clothing of dark blue.

He held the golden hilt of his sword, it's thin blade stuck between two crossed daggers. Since the beginning, he had maintained a frown. However, he was bound to speak his first words.

"<Lightning Coat>."

A golden spark instantly bloomed onto his blade, growing with every passing second as streaks of small lightning served to form around it like a storm. Like the chirping of a hundred birds in unison, It echoed amidst the wide chamber and pierced the ears of all within.

Seeing the sparks of lightning wallowing across the blade of his opponent, the assassin immediately kicked his legs and jumped backwards. He wasn't an idiot so to speak, why would he await the attack of his opponent?

However, would Layfon give him the chance?

Taking a step forwards, his blade immediately traced through the air like the crack of lightning.

However...

"<Pull>." The grim voice spoke quite sneeringly.

The long table behind the assassin immediately sprang into motion, the books scattered into the air of whichever way as the surface they sat upon sprung away. His hand clawed out behind him, grabbing at the edge of the wooden table that had appeared, forcing himself up with a single hand, his body flipped over in time.

Layfon's blade found nothing more than contact with the table as it crackled in light.

It instantly sliced through the whole of the wooden structure in a clean sweep, as it chirped like the tweeting of countless birds.

A loud crash resounded as the two split parts of the item crashed against the floor in a whirl of wind.

Arthur looked to his left and right to see a whole area disregarded by the broken joints. Even more so, looking closely, they seemed to be scorch marks of black along the strike zone of the mangled table.

Yes, currently, they were within the royal library, the place where he most liked to read and the area where he could be found throughout most of the day. He was currently hunched over a grabbing at his stomach that had been kicked in by his own personal knight to force him to evade the daggered blades of the assassin. After all, Layfon's job was to protect him no matter which way he did.

The assassin's feet touched the ground and he instantly dived forwards.

Naturally, Layfon expected this and brought his weapon down from the swing he had just made, tracing it back towards the figure's neck in all it's sparkling radiance.

Yet, just as his blade was about to find contact, the figure suddenly shot backwards. As if being pulled by some unknown force, he easily dodged the attack.

Sidestepping against Layfon's sword, his right leg immediately shot upwards like a piston.

Driving with it a hurling wind, he made contact with nothing more than a thinly built hand that grasped against his ankle. Stopping his attack in motion.

The next second he saw the glimmer of a blade coming towards his neck, he had already allowed his upper body to fall while still in grasp.

The palm of his hands made contact with the ground as he exerted the momentum of his fall to drive the sole of his left feet upwards.

Easily, he found contact as the thud of a foot hitting a chin rang into his ears while he felt the grasp on his leg forcefully leave.

He maintained that position until he heard a crashing sound of tables ring into his ears.

Slowly pulling his leg back down, he stood upright and watched directly at his front. The blonde headed knight was nailed amidst a sea of books and tables just behind the red-haired boy. The whole area had already long since become a mess and the scattering of books amongst the floor and tables strewn about did not help.

Seeing the young knight slowly standing back up and placing himself between the heir to the throne and him; the assassin cracked a chuckle as he grasped the blade of his daggers tighter.

"Layfon Allen, genius swordsman, and adventurer at a young age. Accepting the royal family's invitation, he became nothing more than a guard."

"Yet," he laughed lightly, "he has grown a bit too used to the simpler life."

Holding his blade Layfon disregarded the words of the person and brought the sparking blade forwards as the sound of crackling lightning continued.

He narrowed his eyes slightly as he asked his question that had been saved since the beginning.

"Clove?" He tilted his head a bit.

Holding into a readied stance, the assassin laughed and said nothing.

Clove Engelbert could be considered a long time 'friend' per say. For a while, the two had been companions within the same team, and, naturally, the leader's position was left to the genius. However, an ambitious person can never sit still. There could be said to a be a bit of resentment mixed within this task.

When he was sought after to, among many others, kidnap the little prince and princess. He hadn't missed the chance. After all, he had heard that this friend of his had become a personal guard. Among the circle of adventurers, it was quite a mummer.

However, Layfon had long forgotten about that. Adventurers would always make temporary teams when needed and rarely did any last for long. With how many he had been with, save for the name of the man before him, he didn't remember anything else about him.

However...

"Awaken; <Formless>." His voice rang.

It disappeared with but a few words. The sound of a hundred chirps, no, even more so, the blade of the weapon in his grasp simply vanished. He held nothing more than the golden handle of his sword.

"What!?"

It had already begun when he felt the rush of wind against his face. Almost on an instinct, his head had immediately turned to the side.

There was another movement on his opponent's part as the hand came swinging sideways, leftwards.

There was the clank of metal.

His teeth gritted against one another as he held his daggers to his left cheek, blocking the advance of the invisible weapon.

However, just then, he felt the current of a spark shoot through his blades as they heated in response and helped in its travel.

The pain shot through him as if his skin was burned under an instinct and his hand grew numb. For a moment, he was unmoved. However, he was quick acting.

"<Pull>." He took a forceful step forwards, directly breaking his mind away from the sense of pain, within a fight, every second was crucial.

Layfon frowned; his body moved within its own goal and shot forwards unhindered by friction.

Clove grasped his twin blades and immediately stepped forwards in an effort to rip his life away.

"Layfon!!"

He grinned under that cloth of his when he heard the yell of the little prince and lunged his blades forwards and towards the neck in sight.

However, a moment later, his mouth opened wider as he heard a thud resound into his head. Feeling the pain wailing through his body he's pale amber eyes looked downwards in shock as he saw the handle in Layfon's hand already headed directly towards his ascent after he placed his foot back down.

Yes, he couldn't see the blade, he could only see nothing more than the handle. But he knew he would die if something didn't change. So, naturally, he used his ability.

Without a sound, he pulled himself and an object closer together.

His body flipped within the air and ascended at a breathtaking speed with his arms outstretched as if in a free fall.

A single pound of force rang as the soles of his leather black shoes made contact with the bleached stone rooftop.

In that direct moment, he had already thrown both daggers in his grasps.

Arthur looked up to see the glimmering point of two daggers headed straight for his life. At that moment, his 12 years of life flashed before him.

However, just then, Layfon appeared between him and the attack his hand immediately swung with the handle of his sword grasped.

Yet, Clove grinned under his cloth,

Some people refused to buy them as they see it as tainting the dead. And those who do actually buy and use it were usually looked down upon by others; both as them disregarding the dead and also as them showing they needed one just to be stronger than others--not a part of their real strength.

However, he didn't care a single bit.

"<Greater Phantasm>."

A light wallowed out from the daggers. The two immediately split into four within the air. However, they didn't stop there. Soon, a shower of daggers highlighted the air in their radiance.

'An artifact!!' Layfon instantly recognized this phenomenon.

An artifact—the tearing of a skill from the dead and implantation of that same skill onto a weapon or armor. The creations of the kingdom of Traut; the sole kingdom specializing in magic craft and the highest grade of black smiting. Their secrets held for generations. Different from a magic weapon ingrained with a spell, this allowed for the usage of more powerful effects without the need to always draw out your mana.

There was no way he could block all of them, and dodging meant the one he was supposed to protect would die.

His weapon flashed through the air as he swung the invisible blade madly as continuous clacks grew within the room.

Yet, Arthur watched in wide eyes just the same as countless more passed through the defense and plunged into the body of his guard.

Thud, Thud, Thud, Thud.

With every resounding sound of flesh being torn through, a new dagger found its place onto his body as they dug into him.

He crumbled down like a doll on its last leg as he's knees met with the floor; the sword within his right grasp dropped to the ground as it's clank resounded against the marble floor before it's shine of silver blade returned from the realm of invisibility and the crackling of lighting was long lost.

His arm dripped with blood just the same as his torso, thighs, and legs; all mangled in blades of their own. His heart beat with a hasty beat as he struggled to keep his eyes open. His breath grew rougher with every passing second, exhaling burning air from his lungs.

"<Pull>." Clove called for his blade as he kicked off the roof.

His body falling to the midpoint as one of the daggers forcefully detached from Layfon's body and began its will to fly to his hand.

Arthur's eyes widened as he watched the grim reaper descending from the skies.

"Layfon!!" He willed his hand forwards with a deranged yell, his eyes already walling with glitteringly hot tears.

A burning ball of flames immediately assaulted through the air.

By the time he moved to help, it was already too late.

The world was already a blur.

...

As soon as she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was him.

He sat atop the bed, his back against the wall, his legs crossed almost as if in meditation. And his hands rested against his knees with eyes closed. He looked dully calm as he sat there in tempid silence. His bristling red hair resting upon his head with the single small ponytail against his right shoulder.

"The first time I took a life was to save another, and yet, I failed." He smiled bitterly, his pale red eyes glancing at nothing in particular.

At that moment, Maria finally noticed the rays of the sun shining upon the tears that streamed down his face in rows.

"Funny isn't it?" He turned his head towards her as he made an hollow laugh.

Maria remained silent as she stared at his figure.

She realized, maybe it wasn't just sleep and hunger that made him refuse to talk earlier? Maybe seeing those two also brought back the memory he tried to bury but failed to do so? Yet, she didn't know how to comfort someone, she didn't know the first step to that hazy outstretch. She wanted to; yet, she had never comforted a person before.

'Layfon Allen,' He was like an older brother to him. She didn't know how to pull her own brother away from an abyss. However, just then, a voice called within her head.

[He would have wanted you to smile brightly.]

"He would have wanted you to smile brightly." Her mouth moved simultaneously, relaying the words she heard in her mind.

[He would want you to stay strong.]

"He would want you to stay strong."

[He would want you to be the same proud boy he knew.]

"He would want you to stay the same proud boy he knew."

[After all,]

"After all,"

[You promised you would surpass him.]

"You promised you would surpass him."

He remained silent for a moment, their eyes locked against each other; one a pale red outstretched with tears and the other a pale pink filled with uncertainty. For a moment, he saw the small smile of the blonde knight as his head felt the patting of warmth.

"Thank you," He began.

'Thank you,' She began.

"Maria." He ended.

'Mar.' She ended.

Crimson red eyes slowly opened as the figure unfolded her arms. Standing up from the chest in which she sat, she stretched quite naturally before beginning in small mild steps. Reaching the midpoint of the room, she paused for a moment and turned her head to glance at the two.

[That was it? He simply killed someone and lost another, yet, he grieves as if he was in constant pain.] Ain's voice echoed into her mind in complete disregard. Quite naturally, he was a beast, although he could speak and held as much intelligence as a human, he was still a beast at heart—and, quite so, thought like a beast.

Within the world of the highest strengths of demonic beings, survival and growth were entirely derived from looking out for yourself. In the realm of the dungeon, the stronger you became, the more control you would have over the lesser beings within your area. To the point where, once you had been designated as a 'floor boss' by the dungeon, unless killed in a special way, you would revive and continue to live to command the rest.

Yet, it would seem his host didn't quite agree with his views.

'Shut up.' Ashe's voice projected back in response. Laced within was a bloodily dreadful intent of slight rage.

[...]

'How would you understand what it means to lose someone? What it means to escape living by yourself and knowing you failed to save the one you wanted?'

Directly proceeding to ignore him, she finally asked her question to the two.

"Is there a bath here?" There was uncertainty in her crimson eyes as her brows creased.

Her voice wasn't as hard said or snide as the numerous times she had talked before. And, naturally, there was a bit of warmth mixed within. Still, however, it was still quite hard to place. Overall, Maria thought, Ashe, like any other human, showed sympathy.

"Yes," she replied, taking her eyes off Arthur and beginning her descent from the bed.

Softly landing on her feet, she finished, "At the back."

...

As they proceeded down the stairs, the first thing that came into their ears was a hustling and bustling of the lower floor.

"As lively as always," Arthur commented as he looked around the area.

It was early morning, and the entirety of the place was filled to the brim. Whether it be adventurer's just waking up, those that finally returned from the dungeon from god knows how long, or simply regular customers preparing for the day ahead. Everyone was currently meeting up with old and new friends while being served food.

Unlike the more robust nature of the adventure guild, this was a simpler scene where they discarded their tension. Girls dressed in maid dresses of a hued green walked to and fro delivering orders and taking orders. Adam stood upright in front of the counter, both taking orders and monetary intakes as well as his mere presence negating any confrontations. And Mash within the kitchen, heating up pre-cooked foods while making new ones with the two workers in her aid.

Yup, this scene was quite spectacular, however...

"Let's go," Maria took one last look and turned to walk leftwards and towards the backyard after descending the stairs.

She walked past the counter and gave a glance towards Adam.

"Good Morning." She smiled.

"Good Morning." He returned the greeting with a nod.

Arthur, Ashe, and Ais also nodded in tow; making a short greeting each.

Maria walked past the leftward of the kitchen and she could briefly gleam Mash hard at work being the head of cooking while also ordering around and teaching what she knows towards the workers.

Maria gave a small nod before directly turning back and exiting through the door at her direct front.

As soon as they stepped out, the first noticeable thing would be the two warehouse looking buildings at their direct front. Lying upon the ground of gravel, they blended in, fenced into iron gates, with the seamless view of the outspan of many other buildings behind.

"Those are the bathhouses," Maria commented briefly and walked towards the rightward one.

Mere seconds from entering, Ashe glanced back towards the red-haired boy still in tow.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

"Following along." He replied quite seamlessly.

Yet, her crimson eyes stared at him quite normally, neither a ripple of joking nor laughing.

"I will kick you in a second." She stated plainly.

"Try m-."

A forceful pound descended upon his stomach as he found his body hurl back before he was even aware.

...

The first area of the bathhouse was filled with small baskets woven from vines and a white towel neatly placed within them. Here, the baskets laid upon two rows of racks and this was where the people could freely change. The area was lit from the orbs of light etched amidst the rooftop above and there here was a singular female employee keeping order who smiled and welcomed the trio inside.

"Welcome."

Maria nodded and immediately began to undress just the same as the rest. Her attire was already altered with scorched marks and she was bound to change out of them so she simply tossed them into her space rings.

Having taken her towel, Maria moved along with the others.

.

The second area of the bathhouse was simple. It held two rows of small stools in front of mirrors atop counter's fitted with soap. At the back being a single tea colored pool for soaking within after.

Maria sat atop a stool with a scrubber in hand. Ashe sat in front of her, and Ais behind her. Yup, this was the legendary team back scrub.

Yet, currently, she held a frown.

[Quite the imprints.] Mar's voice drifted out calmly.

'Indeed.' She lightly sighed.

Ashe's back was littered with scars of claw marks. Here and there. It was in entirety as if something had scrapped its claws upon her in a fit of rage.

However, Maria held a certain thought...

[You think it was herself?]

'It's only a plausibility.' Maria replied as she began to wash the girl's back.

...

Green tea-colored in a glistering spring-like state. Perfectly contained in its crucible in all its glory with nothing more than small ripples that led to minor spillages.

"Cannonball!!"

And Arthur didn't care, he immediately dived in.

The splash of water was cleaning heard as he cuddled his body and left himself to sink into it.

The water, It was warm.

***

The water, it was cold.

There was the hurried rush of frenzied jet like water splashing directly onto him in haste, and blowing down onto his body. Within his hands, he grasped his two blades as tightly as he could even amidst the torrent.

He couldn't take it anymore, he turned towards his left.

"Why are you sleeping!?!" And yelled at the shore of the waterfall.

Although his voice was mainly torrented by the sound of the rushing water, it was still heard through the cutout of the forest.

There was a hasty shifting and scurrying about before the older figure, a man that looked much like himself, lazily opened his eyes and yawned. Standing from the wooden chair in which he sat, he folded his arms and spoke.

"Rain, you must concentrate on your training!!" He rebuked the younger version of himself quite naturally.

"Dad, did you know you are really thick-skinned!?!" Rain gritted his teeth slightly, his face pale and his entire body drenched still by the rushing water. He had to yell out all his words.

He had been woken up early morning to not only trek through the dangerous forest without a trail but to also stand under the torrent of water and cut any boulder that came his way. He admitted, he was someone who enjoyed training, however, that was only when it was on his own accord.

Yet, here, the person who dragged him over was sleeping soundly while his own body was frigid cold from the water and his hands numb from the countless small to medium sized rocks he had already sliced with his blades.

"Now listen, Rain, this is for your own good," Lambert folded his arms and nodded.

"You must learn to harness your minuscule mana in a dire situation and use the small force of its control to not only block an attack but to also send at least a bit of its force flying back towards the attacker."

"And what better way to do this than to; One, have you under a waterfall to limit your movement. Two, have you continuously attack any rocks that come your way to get used to the feel of your own swinging motion. And three---There's a boulder!!!"

"Remember!!! Don't dodge it!!! Attack it!!!"

"Use your mana at the direct instance of contact!!"

Rain looked upwards and could hardly believe his eyes. He couldn't see the sun and he saw nothing more than the downside of a gray rock the size of---well, probably at least twice himself.

Grasping his blade, he calmed himself and focused with his mystifying eyes.

'Here goes nothing.'

At striking range, he immediately swung his two blades upwards in a cross.

There was a loud crash.

"..." Lambert starred in speechlessness.

Rain found himself thrown into the river.

"I told you my talent in controlling my mana is weak!!!" Rain forced out a yell as he flayed with his arms, almost engulfing a gulp of water. Still, however, his blades were tightly grasped in his hands.

"Also, don't tell me you forgot that I can't swim!?! Help!"

'It would seem, to use this skill, he will have to prepare his mana beforehand.' Lambert thought with a nod.

"What are you still nodding for!?! Do you want mom to know about this!?!"

A shiver went through the father's body as he immediately sprung into action and jumped straight into the river.

Training was okay, but if she was to hear the boy complain about him even one bit, he was sure to not be able to live leisurely for a few days, maybe a few weeks.