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Tales of the Kingslayer

The lights inside the train flickered, and Heon was suddenly alone, saved from a dead body missing an arm and a mysterious cloaked man. He was trapped in the train running circle. A loop without a stop. The mysterious cloaked man proposed a deal. He would stop the train for Heon, but only after retrieving a missing key in the other realm. Accepting it, Heon woke up with a newly-attached black hand formerly belonged to the dead body on the train. He was teleported to a world of magic and sword. One where the most powerful king was murdered, and the blood-thirsty queen hunted for the assassin. Unfortunately, he found drawings of his face plastered all over the city. Wanted: Dead or Alive. Heon Lightwalker - the Kingslayer. At least, he got Sunny; an alleged murderer slash healer mage, and Azran; a bounty hunter who now stuck by his side due to unwanted association with him. Hopefully, they could survive the kingdom-wide manhunt. But, how would he find the key to fulfill his deal, when the key was going to be used to release the Great End? Was exchanging a key to his own real world equal to ending this parallel one?

Aliast · Fantasia
Classificações insuficientes
74 Chs

Death of A King

The earth tunnel Azran made brought the three of them to the outskirts of what appeared to be a town. Heon blinked again, trying to adjust his eyesight to the suddenly bright surroundings and chattering of the common people there.

Somehow, three people coming out of a hole in the ground – while one was bound and treated like a prisoner – didn't surprise anyone.

Heon took another lungful of air, finding that the place reminded him of an afternoon Autumn in Sapporo.

Funny, he seemed to be a stranger everywhere he went. Even in the real world – not this alternate realm the cloaked man sent him to, even though this world was as real as it could be – he was a foreigner.

His parents were not born in Japan; they only worked there after graduating from university and doing their research. They chose to stay in Sapporo, the capital of the mountainous northern Japanese island of Hokkaido.

Unlike them, Heon was born in Japan. But, having light brown hair made him stick out in a school of all black hair. Screw the anime that depicts characters with colorful hair, especially the leading one, because in reality, no one in his school dared to dye their hair into – white... his hair was…

Heon stopped on his track and studied his reflection in the small snack shop's window. Instead of his usual light brown strands, white streaks were on his head.

He blinked and held the white streaks apart, scrutinizing that, indeed, his hair was starting to turn color from his roots. "What the…"

"Keep walking," Azran said from behind, a scowl on her face as she still pointed a knife at her prisoner.

Sunny snickered, "Yeah, dummy, don't go having a mental breakdown just because you have grey hair growing out."

Heon grumbled but obliged. "Where are we going, anyway?"

"Aldlake City Guards, of course."

That name lost its meaning for Heon, but Sunny stiffened at the mention. "You're pretty good with direction."

"What? You think just because I'm a girl, I don't know how to read maps?"

"Considering that we didn't have any map at hand, It's clear what I said is not sexism. Besides, how can you make a tunnel that leads to a place with the most strict City Guards?"

"Healing magic is not the best, it is earth magic. People should stop saying that earth magic is not cool, because for an advanced mage, knowing the exact location of everything that stood on earth is an easy fit. For example, I would never get lost in a busy city, as I know the layout from the vibration I felt under my feet."

Heon could feel the green-haired girl's smugness wafting off. As much as he disliked it, she had the ability to back her claim. That was cool. But, fixing a hole from a spearhead piercing his back through his chest was not a light thing either.

But the heated look both Sunny and Azran shot at each other made it quite clear. Each mage thought that their magic type was the best.

It made him wonder, what if he could control beasts?

"Turn left," Azran said, and they walked into what appeared to be a city preparing for a festival.

Once again, the place here reminded Heon of the city he spent seventeen years in.

There was this festival in Japan called Obon – or Bon. It was an annual Buddhist event commemorating one's ancestors. It was believed that each year during Obon, the ancestors' spirits returned to this world in order to visit their relatives.

Traditionally, lanterns were hung in front of houses to guide the ancestors' spirits. Obon dances were performed. Grave visited. Food offerings were made at house altars and temples.

The people in this city – Aldlake, was it? – were busy stacking woods to make a stage at the wide space in front of the fountain. At the same time, the others were decorating their houses. The colorful, rectangular paper lanterns hung on each building were practically the same in Japan.

He wondered if the people here would float those colorful lanterns into rivers, lakes, and seas. Just like what the Japanese did to guide the spirits back into their world.

Heon decided to ask, "What's this for?"

"Oh, yeah, you don't know it," Sunny chuckled. "A memorial. It's been a hundred days since the kingdom of Bahran Pasai is kingless."

Azran glared from behind the red-haired manic boy. "You don't laugh at a king's death."

"I'll laugh when I want. Especially when it concerns an ambitious king who couldn't tell the difference between uniting all five kingdoms and a bloody conquest that would bring ruins to the other four kingdoms."

However, this time, the green-haired girl was looking at her prisoner in a new light. As if she agreed with Sunny, which sounded impossible if Heon didn't look with his own eyes.

It was a first.

"Is the king sick?"

"Sick in his head, yes!" The red-haired manic boy answered shortly as if he didn't need to think about it.

By the nod Azran did, it might not be an exasperation. Heon didn't know much about how politics work – much less for a kingdom, so he couldn't even imagine what it'd be like – having a mad king here.

Heck, he couldn't even imagine if the Emperor of Japan, or the Prime Minister, was crazy. Undoubtedly, the country itself would not be peaceful and fall into chaos.

"The people here seem a little bit sad, though," Heon pointed out as they passed a muscular man hanging blue lanterns on the porch of his wooden house while a tearful woman stood by his side.

"Well, they are idiots."

Azran smacked the back of Sunny's redhead at his comment. "Not so loudly."

"Yet, you agree with me," he chuckled.

But, as Heon was still waiting for them to answer his curiosity, Azran explained, "Verghan Basha the Undivided, the King of Bahran Pasai was assassinated last winter before the Great King's Summit."

"By who?"

The green-haired girl shrugged, "I don't know, but Bahran Pasai will not let the one who killed the king to be free forever."

Somehow, Heon got a bad feeling about this.