By The Blood

In the distance, along a different tent pathway, Aurelian noticed a two-meter-tall cart carrying a long-muzzled cannon that appeared to be the size of a man and a half. Was that a new cannon from one of the forge cities? Aurelian wondered but kept walking.

He passed many people, but none seemed to care about him. In fact, for someone who was considered a fugitive in the regiment, he was allowed to walk around freely. But how could they know? Most of them wouldn’t even be able to hear, see, or notice him. After all, he was using his mind invisibility.

I suppose in this situation, following an incomplete branch was the right choice. At least I don’t have to deal with other mind worms, he thought. Nonetheless, he reached his destination.

The entrance to the keep was a huge black gate, manned by three guardsmen with obsidian-tipped spears poised upright. Two were conversing, but the youngest simply stared off into a corner. Aurelian focused on that one. But suddenly, he heard a voice call out.

“Hold it! Who are you?” one of the two men demanded, approaching with a stern gaze meant to intimidate. Aurelian, however, said nothing. My mind invisibility is still on, so why can he see me? Is he also a Sanguine? But he doesn’t seem to recognize me, which means the invisibility is causing interference.

“Who are you?” the man asked again, his gaze growing more suspicious.

“Who are you talking to?” another guardsman inquired.

If he keeps asking, it will attract attention, and I can’t have that. Aurelian made a decision. He glanced at the young guardsman and closed his eyes.

A cold, silent darkness filled his mind. He reached out into that darkness, feeling countless illusory tendrils within. He focused on the one he was looking for and soon found it. Without hesitation, he grabbed hold of them, and as he expected, they wiggled a bit as if trying to assert their freedom. However, he didn’t let go, and soon, they quieted down. Then, he took control.

After a few moments, he opened his eyes, staring at the young guardsman. The boy seemed confused as if pondering something. Just then, he poised his spear and swiftly attacked the guardsman who had confronted Aurelian.

With reflexive speed, the guardsman dodged, using his own spear to counter. He slammed his spear against the incoming attack and shouted, “What is wrong with you?”

The boy, with wide, rage-filled eyes, replied, “For Donnersburg!” He pulled back his spear and thrust it again, but this time he was stopped by another guardsman’s spear. “What’s wrong with you?” the second guardsman asked. But the boy did not respond; instead, he clenched his fists, ready to brawl. The three quickly became embroiled in a fight, one side trying to kill the other while the other struggled to deal with the sudden aggression.

Meanwhile, Aurelian strolled into the keep.

After entering, he found himself a seat in the hall, observing.

He sat in a large stone room, the ceiling held up by pillars the size of two men. Ahead, on a round stone stage, red-haired vixens danced in half-exposed clothing. They were cheered, clapped for, and toasted by the numerous men seated at wooden tables. Some men fell to the ground, their faces red, overwhelmed by the excitement. They attracted various liquor Gu that slowly crawled onto their bodies before being carried out of the feast hall.

Aurelian did not touch the drums, drink the liquor in front of him, or even stand to dance. Even if he wasn’t a believer in the Pure White, he still wouldn’t indulge today. Not today. Not on the day he intended to stain his white in red.

The hall was filled with round stone tables, wooden chairs, and patrons deeply indulging in merriment. He noticed the walls were lined with armor, varying in design. Some had rusted black colors, others a whitish sheen. However, those armors were not meant to be displayed like that. Did they lose their minds because they had a small victory in the plains? Aurelian frowned. This must be Putray’s idea. Only someone like him would invite Vixens to dance in the legion’s home.

Aurelian glanced at the window to his right. It was an open four-corner space, high enough to see the sky, which churned red. The crimson dust falls were minimal today, perhaps because the storm season was approaching, ready to cover the sky in storm clouds. He spotted something climbing onto the window. It was a liquor worm, the size of a finger, slithering its way into the hall. So Gu still exists. Maybe, just like how liquor is always present among humans, the liquor Gu is steadfast and tenacious.

He closed his eyes for a moment and outstretched his palm. May the Pure be with me, he said before returning his palm to his chest, pressing it as if seeking to feel warmth through his heart. After a while, he removed it and heaved a breath.

Would the Pure White even support me in killing an Archon of the Empire? Likely not. But, maybe he would forgive me through penance. Many have done worse in the Holy Book and still ended up forgiven. I will be no different. He stood and began to make his way through the room. The contemplation had lasted long enough; Putray should have become placid enough to at least shiver for the things that were about to happen next.

Aurelian was far from the front of the party, so he had to weave through the drunkards passed out on the ground or slumped over tables. At the edge of the room, he passed rows of unwavering orange light that burned on the walls. The eternal lamps were plentiful for the day, but extinguishing them was unnecessary, so they continued burning, making the room hotter than it needed to be.

He spotted a few men at the edge of the opposite wall, separated by rows of tables. They were burly and imposing, but that was expected since they were Maw. Even drunk, they seemed like strongmen who could easily bash a bull’s head. Tall and well-built, the men wore dark leather coats buttoned down the sides of the chest, and their long, locked hair resembled vines from a distance. Yet they looked well, which, in a way, was strange. The Maw people still didn’t fit into the Empire; after all, it hadn’t been long since their clan was conquered.

Aurelian left the feasting chamber behind. Just outside, he passed through the doorway and spotted various lifelike statues along the walls. They depicted different Archons before Putray. Maybe these ones were better than the current one? He couldn’t tell.

The hallway was slightly curved to the right, in keeping with the corridors of the slightly domed keep. Some said the structure was trying to resemble the roundness of the sun. They tried, at least. Aurelian turned right, taking the hallway directly to the Archon’s chambers. Torches burned on the walls, their light casting a faint heat as he passed by. He walked on and soon noticed that some of the torches were now encased in glass cubes—a sign that he was getting close to Putray.

The fortress of Black Sand was a keep surrounded by a tall wall. It stood on a hill overlooking the Nightmare Plains and was the nearest structure, aside from the various ancient ruins in the plains, to the city of Donnersburg. It was only built a few years back when a spring of grace was discovered in Donnersburg. But the city refused to surrender it to the Empire and thus began the War of Grace—or, as some now wished to call it, the Invasion for Grace.

“You there!” a voice called out in the Maw tongue. Two guardsmen stood at the intersection ahead. The closer Aurelian got to the Archon, the more guards—or even legionnaires—he would likely encounter.

Aurelian looked at the two guards as they approached. They carried spears; they weren’t legionnaires and therefore couldn’t use chain swords—not that there weren’t guardsmen who had chain swords. The only difference was that those guards likely paid for theirs.

How can they see me? He hadn’t disabled his mind invisibility. Perhaps they’re Sanguines, probably with specific mind protection components. Unlike other legions, the Black Sand did not have a core evolutionary branch. Thus, the guardsmen within it could evolve into anything and in any way they saw fit. Although they still had to be mindful of the strength of the components. It would be laughable for the Black Sand to have a breakdown within its walls.

Stopping a few feet away, the guard at the front gestured with his spear. He looked like an average Maw. “Who are you? A Pure White believer? Go now; you are not allowed in here.” The man had black, locked hair and a thin beard.

Aurelian didn’t move.

“Won’t you obey?” the guard said. “What are you waiting for?”

Aurelian took a breath, closing his eyes as the world faded into darkness. He then reached out into that darkness, feeling numerous dark tendrils. He forcefully took hold of them. They wiggled about as if trying to assert their control, but he forced them to obey, willing them to act. Finally, he opened his eyes, staring at the guard.

The guard suddenly turned, his eyes wide. He poised his spear and thrust it quickly at his fellow guardsman. The other reacted fast, blocking the incoming spear with his own.

“What’s wrong with you?” the guard shouted. “Have you lost your mind?”

Aurelian watched the two. Even with their mind guards, they couldn’t withstand the full mental intrusion of a mind worm. However, having used that power, he could no longer use it for some time. Like before, it had already entered its cooldown phase.

Nonetheless.

Aurelian tapped his chest. A starlight blue light began to shine from the center. A round blue-white ring glowed from within his clothes. He raised his hand, and mist swirled around it, quickly taking the shape of a blade. The sword had a black, mirror-like surface, with droplets of water dripping from its edge.

Luckily, his shard armor was from a Mist-Blooded Knight. And although he wasn’t wearing most of it, only the breastplate, a function of shard armor was that it could be summoned anytime by its bonded user. And the only way to break that bond was for him to say so or die in battle—neither of which he wanted.

As the guards battled each other, Aurelian began to dissolve. His body faded into a whitish mist, which then whooshed past the guardsmen. His speed was remarkable. With his armor, he was the equivalent of a special-class being, leaving the guardsmen with no chance of even seeing him move.

Aurelian moved through the hallway, his form shifting between a formless mist and a tangible human body. He rounded a corner, immediately spotted by a few guardsmen.

“Intruder in the Black Sand Fortress!” the man shouted, not hesitating to call out, before quickly gripping his spear.

Was my method of attack a bit too bold? Aurelian wondered as he dashed. Although he wanted to kill the Archon, he also wanted a life after it was over. He wanted to live and grow stronger while steadily approaching the ultimate. But if too many people recognized his face, wouldn’t that land him on a wanted poster? Branded a traitor to the Empire and thus forever lost the chance to achieve his goal. Yes, he was currently masking himself with mind invisibility, but in turbulent times, the human mind has a habit of remembering things