Chapter 19 - Brutality

{19} - Evans Smith: Brutality

Evans let a few drops of his blood hit onto the Bloodspring.

It did nothing. Aside from color the white roots with a slight red patch.

He sighed. That was another problem. Unlike the game's Main Character, he wasn't the Queen's Knight. He wasn't the one who killed her, and carried her vestige in turn.

Actually-, did the Main Character even exist? He'd just assumed that they'd fought her in the past, died, but wasn't brought back. But it was the Queen that revived the Main Character for her own purposes. It would be strange for the Queen to keep her Knight dead if the Main Character was still the one that killed her.

The lack of active Bloodsprings, the missing Protagonist—they all pointed to two possible explanations. He liked neither of them.

"Sir Evans?"

He blinked, and realized he was still standing by the Bloodspring. "It's nothing." He said, and then smiled at her. "Should we go?

She nodded, and soon they were off.

They walked across the ruined streets. It was a quiet journey. The silence was only broken by the occasional gust of ash and dust. Io spent the entire time mimicking the move she'd just done. She seemed like she was trying to burn it into her memory. He didn't bother her. He had more pressing matters to think of.

Because where was he supposed to go again? He knew he had to find Louis, and to do that he had to go into the Ruined City Underground. 

"-ere you-"

Which meant he needed to find that group that captured the Protagonist and Io in the beginning. But who were they? It was never explored in-game.

"-ckers! I'm he-"

He supposed he could try to find a few locals. The Ruined City was decrepit, but there should still be a few people-

"Take this, you fucks!"

His thoughts were cut short by the sound of explosive gunfire.

And his body immediately moved. He spun, punched the bullet aimed at his back, leapt forward, and smashed a flame-covered fist through a man's chest. The man coughed out a glob of blood as he yanked his hand back out. The man fell, dying but not dead.

He huffed. "Io."

"On it." He heard her say, and suddenly he could hear the asphalt behind him crack as she charged past him. The other people who'd been following them scrambled to fight back, but Io was faster. She cut through them with a finesse she didn't have just hours ago. Her halberd became a guillotine, and limbs flew into the air.

While she was busy doing that, he reached down and pulled the dying man up by his hair. The man was sobbing, spewing fear-filled apologies as blood continued to spill from the gaping hole in his stomach.

The poor lad was probably expecting torture or something. But Evans wasn't interested in that.

Instead he turned his eyes to the wound he inflicted. Because despite how deadly it was, the man was still alive. And more than that, he could see how his flesh was reknitting. 

This man was a Revenant, an undying soldier created through research. They could circumvent the threat of death, and instead lose their memories as a price. Soldiers who could fight the Lost and their Queen for eternity if needed.

…If that was the case, then why was the man and his allies so afraid of dying? Wouldn't they just revive?

Silently, his evaluation of the man he was holding and the people Io was brutalizing dropped significantly. He let go of the man's hair, and he grunted as his head hit the ground.

He waited patiently as Io bulldozed through the other Revenants. Her attacks were clearly more refined, but her movement was still crude. She was still essentially running in straight lines. But their next Lecture would have to wait.

Then, finally, the last enemy fell, tears falling from his eyes as he laid on the street, his legs chopped off and an arm missing.

"Sir Evans," Io turned to him, with blood on her cheeks and chopped limbs surrounding her. "What should we do to them?"

He huffed. "Don't kill them." He said. The Revenant he'd taken down turned to him with hope. It quickly turned to terror as the Revenant saw the smile he gave. "I need to…have some words with them."

The Revenant screamed as Evans pressed his foot onto the Revenant's stomach. "W-What do you want!?"

"Why are you here?"

"W-We thought you were human!"

He couldn't help but grin. They weren't wrong, per se. He was just different from other humans.

"I know." He dug his foot into the Revenant's stomach. "Who are you?" The Revenant didn't answer. He looked scared. Evans gave a faux hum as he leaned down towards the Revenant. "Could you be part of the people enslaving others near the Undergrounds?"

The Revenant gasped. 

Evans grinned. Bingo.

He pressed harder. The Revenant screamed in pain. "Bring us to them." He said as a coil of flames rose around him. "If you want to live, that is."

"I-I-I'll do it…!" The Revenant sobbed. "J-Just don't kill me! P-Please!"

Smiling, he lifted his foot off the Revenant's stomach. He heard the Revenant sigh in relief, and he could only apologize in his mind as he turned. "Io."

"Yes?"

He smiled. "Kill the rest."

"Wha-" Before the Revenant could say anything, Io had already beheaded a Revenant. Seconds later, another head was chopped off. Then came the third. Then the fourth. The Revenant by his feet watched in terror, frozen as all his companions were killed. "Y-You said you won't kill them."

He shrugged. "I already have what I need. And besides," He frowned. "You-, we're Revenants. You'll get up eventually." The Revenant remained silent, unable to refute. "Now get up and lead the way." He narrowed his eyes. "Unless you want more?"

"...no sir." The Revenant shakily stood up. "I-I'll lead the way."

The Revenant began walking. He and Io followed behind him. Although the distance between them and the Revenant slowly grew as time went on. The Revenant clearly didn't want to be close to either of them. He didn't bother getting closer. The poor guy looked like he'd had enough already.

"Sir Evans." Io suddenly spoke, and he blinked as she leaned close to his ear. "May I ask something?"

He nodded. She then brought up her Status and showed it to him.

[Name: Io]

[Age: - ]

[Level: 1 (100 Mentor Exp until Next Level)]

[Strength: 40 (32)]

[Endurance: 68 (45)]

[Agility: 23 (19)]

[Intelligence: 26 (22)]

[Skill: 24 (20)]

[Magic: 51 (38)]

[Skills: -Attendant of the Queen's Blood Lv 4-, -Blood Code: Eos Lv 1-, -Gift: Enduring Lv 1-, -Halberd Mastery Lv 3- ]

[Mentor Exp: 5119]

He frowned. "What's wrong?"

She nodded. "Should I use my Mentor Exp on something?"

He shrugged. "You can if you want. You'll have to spend it eventually." His finger hovered over her Stats. "You'll hit a hard wall when a Stat of yours reaches 200. You'll need to get to Level 10 and then pass it to increase that limit."

She tilted her head. Pondering over what to do. He let her think about her choice.

Instead he thought about what he'd read regarding her main Skill. -Attendant of the Queen's Blood- was an incredible Skill, but also a limiting one. It was what allowed the Attendants you fought in-game to be so strong.

[-Attendant of the Queen's Blood Lv 4 (13%)-]

[Increases all Stats by 52% when protecting a Successor.]

Yet Io's was only Level 4. And if he remembered right, the Skill's Level was actively going down. It was 15% last he read. Now it was 13%.

It was probably because he wasn't a Successor. He didn't carry the Queen's Relics. And he doubted he could even hold one. He wasn't a Revenant after all.

…was this why Io had so much autonomy? Because her connection to the Queen was just that weak-?

"S-S-Sir." He suddenly heard the Revenant stutter. He shelved his thoughts for later and looked up to find that they'd walked out into a fairly large opening. The street had caved in to reveal an underground parking space of some kind. Though it was filled with tired humans and Revenants, huddled together and away from the sunlight.

But more than that, he could feel that odd pull again. The same one he felt back in South Korea, when he traveled to Solo Leveling. 

He followed the feeling, and soon his eyes fell on a young man. With hair of light brown, though dirtied with ash and dust. His shirt was worn loosely, and an oversized blazer hung from his shoulders as a makeshift cloak. His green eyes were fixed onto a burning barrel, tired and worn.

Evans felt himself smiling.

They were finally here. And it was time for him to make his first change.

Oliver Collins must not die.