By The Blood

A large, winged creature slowly emerged. Its wings extended in every direction—two reaching upward, one drooping toward the ground, and another curling protectively around its body. These wings were pure white, with feathers as large as a man and a half. The creature appeared to glide across the ground, no legs visible, as the pawns dragged it out.

As they did, the creature emitted a sharp, unnatural sound that sent shivers down Karl's spine. Chains were embedded deep within the feathers, connected to a hidden core beneath the plumage. Karl stared, confused. What is that?

"It’s a feathered angel," Fredrick said casually. "One of those pawns will be dead soon."

Dead? Karl’s eyes narrowed. Something was wrong. The angel’s wings began to expand, growing impossibly wide. Without warning, the creature let out a bone-chilling scream—so loud, so shrill, that Karl’s buckled down, releasing his own startled cry that ended up drowned by the horrific noise.

The creature now towered over the pawns. In an instant, one massive wing lashed out, enveloping one of the pawns before he could react. His agonized screams pierced the air, but the other pawn did nothing, retreating in fear.

The angel pulled the trapped pawn toward its body, the feathers parting as it absorbed the man into its body. His cries grew muffled, swallowed by layers of feathers until they ceased altogether.

"This is the feathered angel," Fredrick explained, completely unfazed by the scene. "It communicates through those ringing sounds, feeds on pain, and absorbs people into its body. It can grow larger, extend its wings, and even fly, but only when it’s smaller."

And this belongs to the Ministry of Pure White? Karl felt a surge of unease, realizing the power he was facing. If this was just one creature, how many more did they control? And how powerful were the Sanguines who evolved into them?

"So the Sanguines can gain all these powers?" Karl asked, just loud enough for Fredrick to hear.

"Yes, but not all choose to keep every ability," Fredrick replied. "During evolution, they can give up certain powers to make the process easier or to gain something else, like physical strength. The Pure White Sanguines often trade abilities like feeding on pain for greater physical prowess. That’s why their invigilators can rival special-class beings in strength, even if they aren’t in that class."

Karl thought for a moment. Classes measure destructiveness, not strength. He looked down at the scene below, wondering what it would feel like to wield such power. Powers like these are out of my reach... unless I unlock the memories. He did not like that thought.

Just then, a figure emerged from the cathedral. Dressed in white robes, his right hand gleamed with a silvery sheen. A silver ring, like a crown, circled his head. His voice rang out, carrying across the village and into the forest: "Hold it, Pawn!"

The remaining pawn trembled visibly before obeying, gripping the chains, and pulling them tight. Though he lacked the strength to match the angel, he managed to hold it in place.

"That’s a Arch-Bishop," Fredrick explained. "There are two in canen; the one who stays in the cathedral and this one who oversee pawns, and ensure there’s enough blood for evolution. All arch-bishops are special-class Sanguines. They can command invigilators but need special reasons to do so." Fredrick chuckled lightly. "I’m sure he already knows we’re here."

Karl stared at Fredrick in disbelief. Does he expect me to fight the Bishop? Is that the purpose of this training? How could I possibly fight someone like that?A special class!

"Oh, he’s about to kill the angel," Fredrick said, pulling Karl out of his thoughts.

Karl looked back at the village. The Archbishop approached the massive creature, which was still writhing in its quivering chains. The pawn struggled to keep it down, pulling with all his might. The angel let out another piercing ring, making Karl wince as the sound assaulted his ears once more.

But the Archbishop was expectedly unaffected. He moved calmly, with precision. "Hold it still," he commanded the pawn.

The unfortunate pawn complied, straining to keep the creature in place.

The Bishop raised his hand, and soft white light began to gather in his palm, growing brighter. And with a swift motion, he released the energy, sending a rippling dome of swirling white light over the village.

Karl squinted, his enhanced vision struggling against the glowing barrier. He could not see anything pass them. He glanced at Fredrick, who remained as composed as ever.

"What are we doing here?" Karl asked.

"Experience," Fredrick replied. "You need to learn how things work. These days, people don’t evolve blindly. They follow specific branches, making their powers predictable to those with the right knowledge. You need experience—enough to understand creatures and their branches. Until you regain your memories, that is."

Karl took in Fredrick’s words, though they only added to the burden in his mind.

Suddenly, Fredrick’s voice cut through the silence. "Here they come."

Who?

Boom!

The dome of white light shattered, exploding into a million specks that rained like snow. Inside the village, the Archbishop’s head snapped toward the disturbance, his eyes narrowing as they fixed on Karl and Fredrick’s position.

What’s happening? Karl’s heart pounded as the Archbishop’s gaze seemed to lock onto him.

"Watch carefully," Fredrick said, grinning widely.

From the shelter of tall trees, Karl noticed figures charging into the village. They wore tattered rags—the kind he had only seen on beastmen corpses. Are they beastmen? he wondered. But some of them were dressed in hooded robes.

The Bishop quickly clenched his fist, conjuring a brilliant white light. This time, instead of forming a dome, the light shot out like spears, piercing through the attackers as soon as he opened his hand.

The intruders screamed, running in panic, but none could escape the Archbishop’s fatal assault. In moments, the ground was scattered with bodies—lifeless, or so Karl assumed. He glanced at Fredrick, frowning. "What is this?"

"Using resources," Fredrick answered casually.

Resources? Karl’s frown deepened. These people are resources? He struggled to grasp Fredrick’s ideals, but before he could speak, several of the robed figures stirred. They stood, seemingly unaffected by the Bishop's attack. Who are they?

Three figures rushed forward, their hands gleaming silver, their skin morphing into blades. Two others stayed back, clasping their hands together as the wind around them swirled, funneling toward their joined palms.

"What the..." Karl’s voice faltered, his eyes widening. Something was wrong. He tried to speak again, but no sound came. My voice! His thoughts raced. It wasn’t just his voice; the world around him grew muffled as if all sound was carried away into the silence. Silence enveloped everything, casting an strange calm.

The duo below pulled as if drawing an invisible bow. A transparent, water-like construct appeared between them. Draging air in, it funneled, taking the form of a bow and arrow. They released it, sending the shimmering arrow speeding through the air.

The sound that followed was a deafening cacophony—a fusion of every noise imaginable. Birds chirped, leaves rustled, the wind howled, and every breath around them combined into one overwhelming noise. The arrow shot toward the Archbishop, but he was prepared. His fist clenched, and a radiant white light expanded into a shield before him.

Boom!

The arrow hit the shield, releasing a powerful gust of wind that tore through the trees, scattering leaves and nearly knocking Karl from his perch. He would have fallen if Fredrick hadn’t grabbed him.

The attack wasn’t over. One of the robed figures fired another arrow, unleashing another overwhelming burst of sound. It collided with the Archbishop’s shield, shattering it into specks of light thus sending the Archbishop tumbling through the air.

The pawn moved to intercept the enemies, drawing his chainsword. Its jagged teeth swung as it clashed with the blade of one of the hodded attackers. Sparks flew as they battled. The pawn crouched low and swung at the intruder’s legs. The blade connected, tearing into flesh, blood spraying as he pulled it back in a sawing motion. But the enemy didn’t scream. He merely staggered back, bleeding heavily but showing no pain.

They don’t feel pain? Karl thought, watching the intruder pull a vial from his robes, filled with a red liquid. Without hesitation, the man smashed it over his wound. To Karl’s amazement, the torn flesh began to mend, knitting itself back together as if invisible insects were working on it. The bleeding stopped, and a scar formed in place of the wound.

"That’s a healing potion," Fredrick said calmly. "It can heal injuries and, depending on the quality, even regrow limbs. They can also be made through crafting."

Crafting? Karl wondered. Why call potion-making crafting? He expected terms like brewing or concoction.

Fredrick continued, "Although that cognizer prefers to drink the potions herself and share the effects through her powers."

So that’s one of her abilities, Karl thought, filing it away. What else can she do?

Meanwhile, the Archbishop, having recovered, pulled a small bell from his robes. He swung it, expecting it to chime—but there was only silence. The sound seemed to have been absorbed, lost in the silence.

One of the robed figures still had his hands clasped, the swirling wind gathering into his palms.

They absorb sound and use it as a weapon. Karl realized. Is this what Fredrick wanted me to see? He began to piece together their abilities: these figures could absorb all sound and turn it into constructs, like the bow and arrow. But he suspected they might be capable of more than just arrows.

The pawn, still engaged with the enemy, lunged again. His chainsword sliced through another attacker’s legs. Once again, the man didn’t cry out. He only staggered back, reaching for another vial of red liquid.

The Archbishop, now understanding their abilities, muttered something under his breath. His hands glowed faintly as he prepared to retaliate, a protective light forming around him once more.

So they absorb sound and weaponize it, Karl thought, his mind racing. But there must be more to it. He focused on the duo, watching as they prepared for their next attack.