16TH

I thought I'd be able to obtain peaceful dreaming yet I instead jumped awake from another bothersome dream. My gaze initially shoots through the window where that same landmass is returning it. This time I remember every single bit of it, but it was different from the one at the time I was salvaged from the river.

I instead saw a young maiden, belly bloated, about to deliver. A man, suited in black, carried her through the halls of an unfamiliar place while a few other unrecognizable people followed. I couldn't get ahold of the precise details of the man's face, not that I can remember it any longer. The young woman wailed in agony, her hand wrapped so caringly around her stomach, fluids constantly dripping down her thighs that were darkening along with her veins swollen.

Arriving in a dungeon, a pool of water exists where the man gently settles the crying lady. My view where I stand mere feet away from the man provides me with the moment when he plants a kiss on the woman's forehead. The expression she gave was of dismay and confusion — a knowing look that something unpleasant would happen. I somehow felt it, too. The air then shifts its mood and forces me to dart my gaze to the high ceilings where I see circling symbols glimmering blue. No, letters that are beyond my comprehension.

The next thing was that the man ambled towards the exit. I traced his footsteps that carried doubt. My eyes then stopped at two elongated figures impaled into the foot of the pool crossing one another. Swords, one white and one black where the latter stood out to me. And the precise image of that weapon brought me back awake.

What is going on? Part of me has an idea of what these few dreams mean. Yet, which pieces fit together?

I look to the opposing bed where the Wolf-breed himself is now in deep slumber. I'm fortunate that my sudden rousing didn't bother him. And so does the feline who's lying on her side on the floor, heaving a little fast which is prominent on her bloated tummy. I guess I fed her too much. I have no clue what time exactly it is already, but I'm sure it's late past midnight just seeing the few to no people walking by down the wooden streets. It's peaceful.

My gaze's focus returns to the distant mountain beyond the window, again giving the feeling of being demanded. The demand for my presence.

I lay back down, jolting a little once feeling the wet surface… Was my dream that intense? The image of the same weapon then flashes repetitively on the back of my eyes, then the mountain, then the sword again. It shares the same semblance as the one I saw in one of my other dreams. Maybe it's giving me the assumption that I'll find it there. But why? What do I have to do with a sword? My mind is telling me to move my legs and go there, but it's a plain stupid thing to do. And too unreal to even believe in. Well, crazier things turned out to be true, anyway. But even if I do so, it'll still be a waste of time.

Now, I can't even find a way to embrace drowsiness anymore, though I also can't let myself succumb to silence and boredom here. I guess a walk outside would help. Silently, I dress up with the same garments and cover myself with the robe the man bought earlier, retrieving a few Terratites from my bag before carefully proceeding out of the room. The door isn't as creaky as it should bother the man's sound slumber, but not for the feline who is now sitting right behind it, gazing at me as I'm inches away from shutting it. She's just there, head directed at me with an unreadable gaze. I merely raise a finger to my lips as I completely shut the door.

I keep my gaze down on the wooden path I'm walking on while also keeping aware of my surroundings. Those syndicates could still be around. I don't plan to stay out for too long anyway. I just want to rid myself of the dream's remnants, even though it seems to be tightly shackled around my head with the rest.

I come by food stalls still open for night owl passersby, yet regardless of how delicious-looking the savory meals on display are, my stomach doesn't demand entertainment. I don't bother thinking of which way I go, so long as I keep track of it for me to easily get back to the inn.

My legs halt upon seeing a scene through a particular house's window that almost draws a smile on my face — a father and his son being playful with toy wooden swords on the floor bed while the lady from the bedroom's door, obviously, the mother, watches. I don't even question why they still do so at this time as I see their clock suggesting it's only approaching midnight.

I suddenly come to think of the still-fresh realization of how I barely know anything about my father. My mother used to describe him to me when I'd ask questions as a kid, and she'd always say that he was a Front Soldier, and was a great one. Then growing up studying at the Academy at the Barrier, the curiosity slowly drifted away. And so did the recognition that I had one who, I, became his and my mother's offspring — inheriting a power no one thought would exist. Except for him and the Ordinals.

I'm about to command my legs to resume ambling, yet I jolt at an explosion from the distance behind. My eyes grow in utter terror and I'm running. It's the inn.

As I'm arriving at the scene, I'm already witnessing the damage to the surrounding vicinity, and I'm hearing whirring steel — no, chains yards away. And I hate to deny that I know who it might be. The assumption is confirmed as I come upon the showdown between the man and Ordinal Ten. Even in human form, he's able to keep up, and I don't see signs of him transforming anytime soon, or at all despite having nothing in hand. It's no question because this ain't the first time.

The Lion-Boar is seen rummaging and trampling through the concrete houses, along with another creature, which, no doubt, is the Ordinal's companion. I waste no second to even mind them but rather return to the two as they splash through the knee-level waters. I decide to assist, removing my robe. Weapons scattered in the rubbles come into my sight and I rush to pick up swords. I take the opening to get in close contact with her with the pair of swords, but the closest I can get is to make almost one of the blades touch her bicep guards as she's able to evade me.

Now, it's me and the man, versus the Steelshaper Legionnaire. I'm able to pass one of my weapons to him, making the tide near beyond even against her with an Immortal Armament. Speaking of, it is completely mended as if it was never shattered at all by my hands back then at the citadel. An object as such — that is meant to be unbreakable — probably took some effort to reforge it back together.

I then suddenly notice how our attacks seem to begin to coordinate — defending and providing an opening for one another. The moment I begin to think we're prevailing, her chain has made access around me and I'm slammed into the man, then I feel splinters scratching my skin from the brittle woods of the supposed bridge. My momentum comes to a stop and I feel myself lying on top of the man. But he has nothing to protect himself from that chunk of metal pipe that is now protruding from his stomach. A single flash of Jameson's face, along with horror, comes to my brain before I'm again yanked into the waters, barely breathing with the amount of swamp water splashing through my nose and lips.

I still manage to stand, and unsurprisingly, unimpaired after sustaining that vicious maneuver. The very moment I'm on one foot back up, my instincts sense the coming chain once more and my hands are active to take action. My right palm sustains the whipping steel's impact, burning through my skin down to my finger bones yet my nerves don't register any of it as pain. The prominent spiraling purple color coursing through my skin is pretty much the only reason why.

I get another chance to find the man still unmoving in his place, blood staining his skin and garments. I dare not even imagine his real state and rather return my gaze ahead to the Legionnaire that requires more attention.

The current end of the chain begins to shake with our rivaling pulling forces, and then the other end of her chain that is still loose hovers along with her other Hexborn Steelshaping grasp. I feel the thug as she makes a swift twirl to lash the weapon. I don't hold back my other grasp as well. Now, we're in complete lock with one another and the rivalry only intensifies.

The Ordinal shows no sense of doubt, instead, just pure anger. And I know it's because I stained her name as a being who has no history of defeat in battle. Perhaps what happened at the citadel provoked her, let alone the fact that I shattered her Immortal Armament. And she went all the way along with only her companion just for this. I don't hold back either, and my grasp around her armament tightens with the same amount of rage.

"You and your hellion powers are a danger to this world," She mutters in her deep voice. "Just like your father."

As she says it, I can't form any sort of reaction. I'm rather confused. Perhaps due to the questions still unanswered. "What do you know about him?" I ask. But no reply is retrieved.

Her eyes then gleam, and the same surge of electricity that I saw for the first time flashes out at light speed from her grasp through the chain. Instead of feeling a thousand needles raining down my skin, I'm rather retained in poise, noticing the strings of zapping power grazing over my gleaming wrists from her chain. It's not new to her, though. Witnessing something new for the first time is not an impression to draw the same reaction again.

Our static position ends soon as we, at the same time, maneuver into the air, the chains from my grasp being snatched away, which disrupts my movement. I try to force myself to get back in control, but the faster Ordinal yanks me splashing down to the waters. Her metal-booted foot keeps me under. I scream, muffled by the dense fluids that are entering my mouth and nose. Even my supposed strength, amplified by still surging energy in my wrists couldn't save me at the moment. Yet I persist with resistance. I resist death — not to an Ordinal. I survived worse situations than this.

I dare push the crushing weight of her boot away from my chest, punching it as hard as I can, yet the waters reduce the impact until I feel the sudden clasp of what I know are her chains around my neck, forcing my hands' attention to shift to it. I feel the supposed unbreakable steel sear tight on my skin that I even register the muffled boiling of the water. It's torture. This isn't even her going all out yet. I just happen to be significantly weaker at this point, let alone that the first time was just luck. My consciousness persists a little longer until my strength begins to deplete.

Is it just me or has she lifted her leg? No, she didn't. The abrupt feeling of its extrication implies that someone made her. I rise weakly and tremble, snotting and retching water from my face nostrils, and mouth, but I focus on finding the Tenth Ordinal. No, I should be focused on the man—... Where is he? The spot where I last saw him is now just empty rubbles with the stain of his own blood. I dart again in the opposite direction where I hear noises beyond my vicinity. Certainly, I hear the Ordinal's chains, but I have no clue what the other noise is. I return my gaze to the same spot of piled rubbles and it doesn't take time for me to completely register it. I dare call the man, yet I remember being oblivious to his name. Where is he?

I rise to my feet in search of my lion-boar companion, but I see her nowhere. Probably still in the heat with that Legionnaire's creature. I pout my lips and blow a pitch whistle calling out the wild feline. Once, twice, thrice, then I'm rather greeted by the claws of the Ordinal's winged beast — a vulture — and I'm struggling to extricate myself from dangling in the air head over heels.

Being a speedful bird, I'm already taken beyond the municipality's territory, and below, all I see are the sparse trees protruding from the elevating land. The beast is taking me ahead to the distant mountain. I continue to struggle more until I finally slip, falling, this time, upon the soil.

I can't let myself waste another second to even redraw energy and I get back up where I find myself lost in the woods up high on a sloping hill. I can see the very distant edifices of the municipality from afar.

The vulture's snarl warns me of its coming attack, but my reaction is late. Its claws smash me upon the soil, attempting to draw blood within my arms' solid flesh persisting to crawl with the purple energy as I block. My occupied senses let me barely register clear details from my surroundings and refrain me from having an idea how to get out of the situation, not even an opportunity to form a shield or turn invisible — not that I have figured out how to do so. How am I even supposed to overwhelm a huge creature as such?

It takes a short delay for me to register the beast's long beak spread open, revealing a warm light from down its throat. My eyes grow wide, then shut the moment I think I'm to be smothered to ashes, but no. Instead, I'm now empty-handed. Or rather no longer have the beast upon me.

Unprecedented screeching is heard, clearly of the huge vulture. Now, I have my gaze ahead of me, onto another creature overwhelming Ordinal Tenth's companion on its two legs. I parse its semblance of coated dark fur down to its three tails glistening with the moon's light and face clear of hard and solid bones with stretching horns over its head. Loose chains are locked around its broad frame, familiar to the one that is owned by the Steelshaper Legionnaire who ambushed us. But where is she now?

I deny the sudden assumption that rises but seeing the same protruding metal on his chest confirmed that it's him. The man. He's no Wolf-Breed after all.

His roar overpowers the vulture's taunting screech as it finds escape from the fiendish monster's hold. It draws a sudden fear within me that all I can do is watch in place and feel numb all of a sudden as if it manifested all over the area.

The vulture gives its last hiss before flying away, accepting defeat. The furred creature emits a howl in response — the howl resembling that of what I'd heard the other night with so many voices. So, it was him. He ate his own fetches and denied it was him all along.

Now, it's just me and him. He turns to me, suggesting a clearer view of his horrific semblance and I remain still in my position. The devilish red orbs gazing from within the deep holes of his eye sockets pierce through me like a harpoon with an unrelenting aura of pure uncanny. He draws himself close until his muzzle is barely touching my cheek. Though, I feel no respiration. Just his… demonic presence.

"Do you know me?" I utter, voice trembling, and keeping a straight stare back at his demonic pupils where I somehow feel his presence — his real presence, hence why I asked. I can also admit that I have an elevated fear with the oblivious thought of what might happen next.

I look below his chest getting a hold of that still-impaled metal, and the portion of the Immortal Armament locked around him. Slowly, I lift a hand to hold the metal, but before my finger even makes contact, he flinches and retreats as if something had triggered. He flies into a rage across the trees. The moon is still present for me to see him starting to shed his dark fur. That's when I know he's reverting to his man form.

"Watch out!" I snap when I notice he's staggering toward the edge of a cliff, yet it's too late. I'm rushing in his direction and I see his figure rolling and tumbling down uncontrollably. I carefully stumble down, having to watch my steps in the process and following the trail of fur he's leaving, then soon stop as I see his unconscious figure under a tree. I drop to my knees and carefully flip him on his back, only for me to be confused seeing the prominent scars on his frame gleaming angry red. I ignore it for now and divert my attention to the chains that are still loosely shackled around his frame. It's only the portion, implying that he had prevailed against the Steelshaper legionnaire and shattered it for the second time. The metal bar, rather, is on the grassy soil. He must've removed it on his own. But the scar that is supposed to have been left is not there.

I'm frantic at the moment, not knowing where to get a garment to cover him up, I couldn't care less about myself now even though my skin is crawling with the cold breeze. And this place isn't a good place to stay around as well. Going back to the municipality would be a stupid choice either. And besides, it's already too far to even go back. I only wish I didn't leave my robe.

Whimpering then rings in my ear, and I turn my head just to see the lion-boar limply approaching our direction. I sigh with sudden guilt. I almost forgot about her, but she didn't forget about us and still made it all the way, despite her impaired limbs and sustained wounds. In between her teeth is my robe. My robe! Maybe she figured out my scent or the man's and tracked us with it. She must've found it where I left it.

I approach her welcomingly with an embracing hand upon her head. She merely shuts her eyes and accepts the embrace in response. She easefully drops the robe for me to retrieve. The way how heavy it falls with a clinking sound says that it's not just the only thing she brought. The pouch of Terratites is with it. But now, that's not what needs attention. I rush back to the unconscious man and carefully cover his naked body with the garment. Now, I only have to get him out of here. After the waste we laid at the municipality, they surely won't welcome us again, if not hunt us down. It's obvious that many of them would. Our encounter with the Ordinal will give many of them the idea that we're valuable and won't let us be let loose. But how do I even start? I can't carry him like this. But I also can't make the wounded lion-boar do so either.

It doesn't take long for another decision-making and I gently grab him by the hand to hoist him onto my back. But then I notice something in it — a well-aged folded paper smothered with creases and wrinkles from being crumpled. How can he even have this all the while he was in that form and fighting the Ordinal? Now, I can't help but be suddenly curious. I gently sneak my fingers to take it. It's folded in two, with a written date on one side, and it says, First Day of Tenth Moon. When I open it, my brows furrow when I see what's on it — a sketch of a young man A face resembling mine. It's rather like looking at myself in a mirror, only with longer hair with those on his crown tied behind just like this man's the first time I met him, and carrying an innocent smile in his eyes along with his teeth.

My brain is blank at the moment. What do I even feel? Or how do I even react? No. We need to get out of here. I shove the paper in my pocket and proceed to hoist him onto my back. It's a little troublesome to do since he only has a robe covering his body. He weighs much lighter than I thought, or maybe it's the remaining hellion strength still manifesting in my muscles.

I see the lion-boar weakly licking her wounds, but she stands as soon as she senses that we have to go. I'll have to treat her, but for now, we have to find a safe place to camp. I gaze up ahead looking for navigation. I guess I just have to trust where my legs will lead us to.