Godless Blood: Last Apostle

...

Their journey stretched endlessly through barren dunes and jagged wastelands, the sun searing the earth into a cracked mosaic of isolation.

Silver, hand tightly clasped with Lena's, staggered across the endless desert. Every step in the sand seemed to pull him deeper into the earth, draining him of the strength he couldn't seem to summon. But he refused to fall behind.

He had to keep going. He couldn't be the one left behind again.

Lena, usually one to slip through shadows, was forced to walk by his side. Shadowtravel was useless with a living soul to carry. He had learned that much. The thought of being left alone in the Shadowrealm sent a cold shiver down his spine.

"Hey," Lena called, her voice soft but firm, breaking the silence between them. "If you can't keep up, just say the word. I'll carry you. No shame in it, kid."

Her words, though kind, only twisted something inside him.

Silver bit back the knot forming in his throat. Every day he had been taken care of- by the Elder, by the village, by Mira. They had always shielded him from the world. They had always carried him. And yet... he was still so weak.

The memory of the cave's collapse hit him like a punch to the gut. His heart squeezed as the image of Mira's lifeless body flickered in his mind's eye. He winced, pushing it away.

He wanted, and needed, to do something. To stand on his own. But it seemed the world didn't allow it.

The moment his legs gave out, Lena didn't hesitate. She was there in an instant, scooping him up effortlessly as if he were a child.

"Jeez… You really need to take better care of yourself. You haven't slept properly in days. Rest now. I'll wake you when it's time for food," she said, voice tinged with both irritation and something softer underneath.

He let himself be cradled, the faint sense of shame gnawing at him as he rested his head against her shoulder. His world had become a haze of exhaustion, and yet, he felt so powerless to stop it.

Days passed. Quiet days, where the sun beat down relentlessly, and silence became Silver's closest companion. Lena often spoke of her guild, Duskborn. They weren't like knights or mercenaries. They were assassins, and their targets were always the Seraphic Order.

"Ever heard of the Southern Monastery?" Lena asked one evening, her voice carrying a hint of curiosity. "It's in those mountains." She gestured toward the far horizon, where two pointed peaks rose, their outlines blurring in the distance. "The guild's accoutant, Ludon, told me they never eat meat there. They even make graves for every animal that dies. The whole mountain is just a massive cemetery. Hard to believe, huh?"

Silver didn't respond. He didn't have the energy to talk, not after everything he'd seen. He had spent too much time alone. Too much time lost in his thoughts.

Lena's words lingered in the air, unanswered. She glanced at him, then sighed, muttering something under her breath as if questioning why she bothered.

When they finally reached their destination after hours of walking through a brutal sandstorm, Silver's weary eyes caught sight of the ruins. At first glance, it seemed like nothing more than another forgotten relic, half-buried by shifting sands. 

Lena led him toward the stone structure, stopping before a monolithic slab, its surface etched with intricate symbols.

She drew blood from her thumb, letting it drip onto a specific mark. The air seemed to hum with ancient energy as something deep inside the stone stirred. Then she produced a vial of thick, silver liquid. One drop mixed with her blood as she pressed her palm against the stone.

The ground trembled beneath them, a hidden gate sliding open with a rumble that made Silver's heart race.

A primal recognition stirred inside him. Something he couldn't name. His eyes went wide, his voice rough and withered. "What... was that?"

Lena's gaze flickered to him, surprise flashing in her eyes. "You could talk?"

His stomach twisted. "What… What was that?" he repeated, his voice quieter this time.

Lena gave him a worried look, before sighing. She explained the Apostle Blood. The ancient liquid that amplified magic. But all Silver could feel was the sickening weight of that recognition, an ancient force thrumming deep inside him, answering the call of the artifact. "It's expensive, but extremely useful. It amplifies magic proficiency by 750 percent and sends an immense amount of energy when mixed with mana. That's why it's used in magic artifacts like this... Hey, are you alright?"

His heartbeat thundered in his ears, but he forced himself to ignore it, nodding his head. Lena observed him for a second, before sighing. "Fine. Come this way... And don't touch anything." They stepped forward as they descended into the hidden depths of the guild.

The underground halls of Duskborn were dimly lit by glowing stones embedded into the walls. Shadows stretched long as voices murmured around them.

They descended into the hidden depths of the guild, the underground halls of Duskborn faintly lit by stones embedded in the walls, their glow casting strange shadows that stretched like fingers across the stone floor. An oppressive silence hung over them, punctuated only by the distant, hushed murmurs of unseen figures.

Suddenly, they entered a large, open room. Cryptic text and drawings were carved into the walls, as the mysterious wind whispered in Silver's ear.

Two enormous stone statues loomed by a closed door, their blank, lifeless eyes fixed on them, unmoving, unblinking. As they passed, Silver felt the weight of their cold and unwavering gaze.

It was as if they were looking through his soul.

A shiver crawled up his spine, and for a moment, it felt as though the statues were judging him, alive with a silent, timeless knowledge.

"Stay here," Lena told him, her voice unnervingly calm. "I'll open the door."

She stepped forward, disappearing into the shadows where a gargoyle perched, its form grotesque and twisted. Lena took a dagger from her belt, cutting her finger and pressing the wound onto the stone creature.

The gargoyle's eyes erupted with a sickly golden glow, its gaze turning toward her with an ancient, predatory hunger. With a grinding, echoing sound, the door groaned open, revealing an expansive, darkened room. The air within felt thick—stale, as if untouched by life for centuries.

They stepped inside.

And the two walked in.

The underground halls of Duskborn were dimly lit by glowing stones embedded in the walls. Shadows stretched long, and voices murmured around them.

Silver's heart thudded in his chest as the cool air settled over him. He felt the weight of the guild's presence, the eyes of its members flicking toward him like a predator sizing up its prey.

"Stay close," Lena murmured, her tone hardening. He nodded, trying to steady himself as they moved deeper into the heart of the guild.

The halls of the Duskborn were dark, lit only by faintly glowing stones embedded in the walls. Silver's senses were on edge, the weight of unseen eyes pressing down on him. The guild members, cloaked in shadows, watched with silent intensity as he passed.

At the far end of the room, Ludon, the guild's meticulous accountant, didn't even glance up as Lena and Silver entered. "Another recruit, Lena?" His voice was filled with skepticism, the sharpness of his tone cutting through the room.

Kara, sharpening her sword by the fireplace, shot Silver a brief grin, a flicker of amusement in her eyes. "Hope the kid can keep up."

But the real attention came from the silence that followed. Every member of the guild had their eyes on him. Cold, calculating, curious.

Dara, standing near the door, regarded him with an unsettling smile, her golden eyes gleaming as if she could see into the very depths of his soul.

As the murmurs rose, Silver couldn't help but shrink under their scrutiny. "A kid?" one voice scoffed. "She's finally gone mad."

Another whispered, "He won't last a day."

Silver's hands balled into fists. He wanted to shout. To prove them all wrong. But the weight of their judgment pressed down on him, choking the words before they could escape.

Before he could respond, the heavy doors to the main hall slammed open. The room fell into a sudden hush.

A tall, chiseled figure entered, with a commanding posture that seemed to distort the very space around him. His unkempt black hair, disheveled and wild, danced with the wind that followed in his wake, framing his sharp, angular face. The deep crimson of his eyes gleamed with an icy, calculating ferocity, devoid of any warmth or emotion. It was a gaze that pierced the soul, as though he could unravel the deepest secrets of anyone who dared meet his eyes.

His very presence overwhelming. 

In his grasp, the severed head with a broad, muscular skull with jagged, stone-like scales that resemble rough terrain. Its dead eyes glew with a golden or amber hue, giving it a sense of ancient wisdom and strength, blood still dripping from its neck, as the figure threw it onto Ludon's bureau, shaking the desk.

Ludon bowed respectfully. "Congratulations on killing the Seraphic Earth Dragon, Guildmaster."

Every one else in the room followed his lead, as they allied kneeled to the figure, their eyes glued onto the floor.

"We kneel before the Ultima. Welcome back, master Ashen."

Lena did the same as she gently pulled Silver's head towards the ground, making him bow as well.

The room fell dead silent. 

Ashen's cold gaze turned toward Silver, and for a moment, the world seemed to freeze.

"...This is what you brought back, Lena?" His voice was low, a rumble that seemed to shake the very foundation of the guild.

Lena flinched, before nodding firmly. "Yes, master. I found him in a cave... He… Has potential."

Ashen exhaled sharply, moving toward Silver with predatory grace. "I see nothing but a starving stray."

Silver's heart hammered in his chest. He clenched his fists, the raw words escaping his lips before he could stop them. "I'll... I'll prove it. Let me fight you."

The room erupted in laughter. Lena's eyes widened with shock, her hand reaching out in vain to stop him. "...W-wait, master. The desert must've had a negative effect on his brain-"

But it was too late. The guildmaster raised a veined hand.

Ashen's lips curled, amusement and disdain mixing in a cruel smile. "Very well. Stray. If you land a single blow on me… I will let you stay. If not..."

His cold gaze fell upon Lena, who lowered her head even more, biting her lower lip as she clenched her fists.

Silver did the same, as he stepped forwards.

"..."

And he leaped.

The fight was over before it started.

Silver was fast, but not fast enough. Strong, but not nearly strong enough. Ashen barely moved, effortlessly deflecting Silver's desperate strikes. The first blow sent Silver crashing to the floor. The second cracked a rib. The third knocked the breath from his lungs.

Suddenly, silver blood came out of his wounds. A few of the guild members around them gasped, while a few murmured with the crowd.

But Ashen simply stared down at him, with a glint of surprise and recognition in his eyes. But it was gone as soon as it came.

Silver laid there, clenching his fist. He remembered Mira acting the same when he first tripped and scrapped his knee. He saw the villagers' faces filled with disgust and fear.

'...Don't show anyone your blood, silver,' He remembered the Elder's voice echoing through his mind.

But it didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered.

He had to get his revenge. He had to avenge Mira. The elders. The village.

He remembered mira's smile, the one he vowed to protect, but failed to do so at the end.

He gritted his teeth, as he pushed himself further, tears rolling down his face, as he slowly and shakily rose from the floor. The pain was unbearable. But he had to overcome it.

"...Tsk. Stay down, boy," Ashen's voice was detached.

But Silver refused. The pain didn't matter. The blood didn't matter. He refused to stay down. He rose again, and again.

The guild members grew distant, muttering amongst themselves, their attention drifting away.

But Lena's fists were clenched tight. Her face was a mask of concern and frustration, her eyes burning with something else... Something Silver couldn't name.

"Silver, stop..." she whispered, but he didn't hear her.

The world around him blurred as the fight stretched on. His blood soaked the floor, but still, he stood. He refused to break.

Something ancient and wild inside him began to stir.

He look down as he saw the silver blood on the floor suddenly trembled, as if something in it awakened.

In a flash of silver and red, Silver's eyes burned with fury as a sudden, unknown power coursed through him. He felt energy stinging him from inside his veins, as something inside him transformed. His movements became faster, sharper. And in a single, desperate lunge, his fist collided with Ashen's chest.

For a moment, the room fell silent.

Ashen's expression shifted, but only slightly.

Then, with a single motion, a ruthless clentched fist, he sent Silver crashing to the floor with an effortless blow.

The room was eerily still.

The last thing he saw was Lena breaking form and rushing over to him, shouting something he couldn't hear...

And his vision faded to black.

...

When he woke, he found himself lying in the guild hall, his body wrapped in bandages. Ashen stood nearby, arms crossed, his gaze as cold as ever.

"Hmph. Took you long enough," Ashen muttered.

Silver sat up, disoriented. "What... what happened?"

"You're in," Ashen replied simply, his voice devoid of emotion. "You'll start at the bottom, like everyone else. "

He said, as his lips curved into a cold, and barely noticeable smirk.

"Welcome to Duskborn, lab rat."