None Are Righteous

I wave my sword, and the shade's head is struck from its neck. With no delay, another takes its place. In a downward motion, my enemy attempts to diagonally claw my neck from my shoulders. Gripping its black, almost fluid wrist, I hold the shade in place. Swiping the side of the beast, I separate the creature's torso from its lower body. Black fluid pours from the wound. Releasing my hand, I allow the dying creature to fall into the pool of its own blood.

'Marvellous, sir Nightbreaker!' Clapping his hands, Garrison moves from the boulder I had told him to wait behind and approaches me. Rosaline, the green-haired girl, and Hanna, the blue, join him.

Since my fortuitous encounter with the Huntly Clan trio, the four of us had travelled hours to retrace their steps towards their carriage. Though we had managed to avoid most of the wandering Tension Beasts we had come across, in a land infested with monsters, it is too much to ask to obviate conflict entirely.

As the only member, for the time being, of this temporary alliance capable of casting Arts, combat has been left solely in my hands. Considering my intentions towards my new "friends", I can hardly complain. Biting my lip to avoid my smile from revealing my hidden intent, I turn to face the high-born bastards in my charge.

'Are we not yet friends that you would stand on such stifling formalities? Please, my good man, call me Sebastian.'

'Of course, Sebastian. Our friendship is forged in battle. Such a bond transcends Clan and blood. Our bond is linked in eternity. My only regret is that I am not able to fight by your side until I have expelled the corruption from my body. It is a source of great shame to me that I am forced to leave everything in your hands.'

Shaking my head at his words, I look into Garrison's eyes. 'Would you deny me the honour of aiding a friend in need? Do you think me so stingy as to fret our current circumstances? If our roles were reversed, I have no doubt that you would take the vanguard and shield me in my weakened state.'

'Of course, you are correct, but do not think the Huntly clan so destitute that we do not repay our debts.'

'That's right.' Walking ahead of Garrison, Hanna draws my gaze towards her. Her blue hair rests lightly on her shoulders. A clear crystal necklace adorns her neck and lays on the soft curves of her chest. Though her gown is tarnished by mud and blood, the woman holds a dignified fragility exuding her feminine charms.

'If our roles were reversed, we would not hesitate to do as you have for us, and once this crisis is over, the Huntly Clan will surely repay this kindness you have shown us. To have come across a noble of such chivalrous spirit, I can only thank the blessings of Ember himself.'

'I am no exception. We of noble birth owe a duty to one another. Is Aspire not built and maintained through our labour?' Resisting the urge to retch at my words, I secure the appearance of sincerity on my face.

'You are once again correct.' Garrison says. 'The nameless and the mortals have become too bold as of late. Too often, they forget their place at the bottom of society's hierarchy. I had even heard distressing news of a nameless vagabond murdering a mid-tier Clansman like ourselves. To think that such an offence is yet to go unpunished? If I had the scoundrel before me, as surely as the sun rises and the sun sets, I would cleave his head from his shoulders, and set it up on a pike as an example to others of his kind.'

Oh, would you?

'I too heard this news.' Hanna chimes in. 'I believe he goes by Nero. He's a student at that loathsome academy. Why the nameless are permitted entry, I'll never understand. He must have cheated! For one such as him to defeat one of his betters? It's the only explanation that makes sense.'

Or perhaps, I am strong and Wolf was weak. What benefit is a name when matched against real power? With all the advantages of his nobility, he wasn't able to survive a single attack. Well, believe what you want. It will hardly matter once you've brought me to what I want. If once the veil is lifted you are still determined to see my head on a pike, you'll have the opportunity to see your wish made manifest.

Snapping me from my thoughts, I hear my name, well, the name they know me by, being called by Garrison.

'It is strange that a Clan which can produce a rank-three expert at your age wouldn't be known to me. If you don't mind me asking, could you tell me more about the Nightbreaker Clan?'

'Of course. We are a mid-tier Clan, newly relocated to the Oswald region from the Gohal region of Area V. We're not well known in this Area quite as of yet. But I believe, in time, we will be able to reproduce the prestige we enjoyed back home, here in our adopted home.'

'The Gohal region? I see.' Stroking his upper lip at my words, Garrison hums softly in contemplation.

'Considering the proliferation of sects and dark guilds in that region, it makes perfect sense that you would choose to forsake those lands in favour of the relative prosperity the Oswald region provides. It is a shame, however, that your arrival here would be followed by these unfortunate times.'

Stepping forward, Rosaline shakes her head in response to Garrison's words. 'It's no shame that we met, despite these times. Because of the bond we share, both the Huntly Clan and the Nightbreaker Clan can grow together into something greater than the sum of our parts. I am unwilling to label such an opportunity as a shame.'

What a joke.

I might be lying about my identity, but your lies are far more shameless. The natural state between two Clans can never be anything other than hostile. Every Clan is the other's competition. They compete over land, resources, fertile locations within the Towers, and slaves. Even the five ruling Clans are forever seeking opportunities to devour one another.

Is it possible for dark guilds to thrive without the Clan system's need for duplicitous warfare? Of course not. The dark guilds serve their purpose as the tools for covert hostilities.

In a twisted symbiosis, the Clans will enlist the services of murderers and thieves to weaken their competition, and the dark guilds will grow fat on the spoils of their plunder, all the while, both sides know that the hand that feeds them can readily be clenched around the sword that strikes them.

Without question, these three think me a fool; they believe they've struck gold; they must be counting their blessings to have stumbled upon a Clan, without allies in the region, to prey upon?

It would begin with a dark guild's attack. More and more unfortunate encounters would follow. When they believe my fictional Clan is without defence, they would launch an all-out war against us and digest their gains whole.

Cooperation between Clans is nothing but a temporary ceasefire while they scrutinize each other for weaknesses.

In this world, none are righteous, no, not one.

Agreeing to Rosaline's lies and temptations, I allow the three to walk ahead and guide me towards the location of their carriage. For hours, we walk. The sun shifts from the sky to be replaced by the moon. My insatiable fatigue probes at my alertness. Biting my lip, I keep my mind focused.

Walking for another hour, I finally see it. Carved into a hill, I see a cave in the distance. Letting me know that it's the right location, the three increase their pace towards the cave. I match their speed. Pulling ahead of my witless benefactors, I hasten my stride towards the cave.

Mere metres away, I stop.

A smile creeps onto my face as I take the hilt of my blade.

'Don't take it personally.' I say.

'It's only business.' I hear back.

What?

I turn around, sword drawn. Charging towards me, Rosaline has her own sword above her head. She strikes down. Lifting my blade to block her attack, our swords meet in the air with a metallic ring. Before I'm able to counter, she leaps backwards, avoiding a diagonal slash that would have carved her from shoulder to hip.

Stretching out his hand, Garrison forms two spears of rock; they hurtle towards me. Without the time to think, I dive into a roll, out of the way of their trajectory. Leaping to my feet, I catch a glimpse of three flaming arrows flying towards me. Constructing a barrier formed of three layers of Tension, I shield myself from the flaming Art.

What's going on?

From the cave, three people exit. I don't have time to examine the newcomers. As soon as I notice them, the green-haired girl recommences her frontal assault. We clash blades, and she retreats, only to be followed by more flaming arrows that I narrowly avoid.

'He has a flying Art! Quickly, seal the area!' Following Rosaline's instructions, Hanna removes the crystal necklace from around her neck. Shattering the jewel between her forefinger and thumb, she generates a translucent dome around us.

Trapped.

Three to the front, three to the back…

'You look confused. Let me explain.' Sheathing her sword, Rosaline walks towards me. She raises her hands in a gesture of good faith. Her green hair billows in the wind. A sinister grin breaks on her face.

'I enjoyed your acting, but we know who you are. Nero XIII, the boy who killed Wolf.'

My heart pounds in my chest, sweat forms on my brow. Tighter than before, I clench the hilt of my sword. With a deep breath, I suppress the growing panic. A cold reason takes its place; my mind, consumed by one thought...

Kill all who stand in my way.

'Oh, I know that look.' Rosaline says. 'It's the look of a cornered beast moments away from lashing out. I've seen it many times. But before we try in earnest to murder each other, I really would like the chance to talk to you without the mutual pretence.'

'It would seem you have a captive audience. Say what you mean to say.' As if having heard the funniest of jokes, Rosaline bursts into fits of laughter.

'"A captive audience" because we have you captive. That's funny, Nero, it's really funny. If your head wasn't worth enough ether-crystals to advance into rank-four, I really might consider letting you go.'

So that's what this is…

Inching her way closer, Rosaline attempts to close the distance between us. Assuming a sideward stance, I dissuade her from her next step.

'Easy, boy. I just want to talk.'

'And yet you still haven't said anything.'

'You're the one who made me laugh. You can't erect obstructions and complain when people are obstructed.' I take a step forward. 'Okay! Okay! I get it. Straight to the point.'

'How did you find me?' Her laughter resumes.

'Oh? You're being serious? Did you really think you could kill a mid-tier Clansman, the brother of a Clan leader, no less, and not have your activities traced? I'll admit, since the Tower breach, information regarding your movements all but dried up. Something must have changed, however, because just a day ago, new information reached my hands. We got the time and location for where you'll be, along with instructions to carry a tool capable of countering a flying Art.

Shit.

'I have an offer for you, Nero. Surrender. Give up your head willingly. There are six of us and only one of you. Even if you do somehow manage to escape, there are more just like us hidden behind every blade of grass. We're not the only mercenaries to come looking for you, we're just the first to have found you. You'll never reach your academy alive.'

My lips pull into a half-smile. I look into my enemy's eyes.

'Oh? Did I miss something? What exactly is there for you to be smiling about?'

Softly, I chuckle.

'You mentioned escape, that tickled me. I have no intentions of escaping...

'I'm going to kill you all.'