Azhure: This is it, the final part of this chapter. Thank you for reading thus far.
Voice: And now I will what you will do to her…
Azhure: Oh, and I noticed the plothole in chapter 11 due to changing Darc with Will which will setback this chapter until part 2, so I revised the former.
Voice: Huh..? Wait! You’re going to-
The door was violently swung open, scattering ice shards all over.
There was not much room for four Court Wizards to fit in. It wasn’t because the room was too small, but because there was so much stuff cluttering the place.
There was a bookshelf on one corner near the door which extended to half the room; a large flower vase on other; a low table with two sofas in between and jars of snacks (presumably) on top of it; numerous paintings hanging on the white empty walls space; and finally, a desk with of the balcony behind it. A lavish room.
And the Wolfram noble was right in front of it. He was an old man in noble-like clothing.
“What do you want from me, Court Wizards!?” The noble shouted, there was fear in his eyes but still stood his ground nevertheless. His clothes and hair were disheveled, drenched in his own sweat from running up and down the mansion trying to escape probably.
“Surely you have figured it out,” Will said, going in front of Owen who froze and kicked the door.
As Rose suspected, the noble narrowed his eyes in a bloodshot. “Grr,” he growled and quickly pulled the same pistol that the Bell manager had, “curse you!” and pointed it to Will.
However, the Court Wizards will not fall to such a trick again. So a storm brewed in front of the Air Guardian, and the bullet stopped dead in its tracks, still spinning. A moment later, it dropped to the floor.
The Wolfram stood there with his mouth agape, unable to comprehend what just happened.
Silently, Will lifted his right arm and brought it down like a swift strike of a blade.
RIP TEAR RIP TEAR RIP TEAR RIP TEAR RIP TEAR RIP TEAR RIP TEAR RIP TEAR RIP TEAR RIP TEAR RIP
And the storm was sent blasting towards the noble, ripping and tearing everything in its path; the paintings, the bookshelf, the couches, the low table, the snack jars, all of it were utterly tattered.
The noble bore the brunt of it. Dropping his gun, his attire was torn asunder, red liquid oozing from it, was blown back, hitting his spine on the rather high-quality desk.
“Grr,” the Wolfram growled in defeat, knowing that he was finished. “Damn you to the Black Mist,” he cursed. Beohar people seemed to like swearing by the Mist of No Return aka the Black Mist a lot.
Then Will swiped his arm again, sending one final slash of air at the noble’s neck.
His head rolled off the desk as his body slumped against it, his life leaving his body becoming a husk without its life.
Will walked over to the nobleman murdered by his own hands. But as Will reached him, blood squirted out of the stump of his neck, staining the brown-robe.
Beside, a robed one covered in the same shade as the earth with blood splattered over it.
Suddenly, Will sent the desk flying into the air. The Wolfram’s corpse knocked forward as a result.
“Aah!” a scream of a little boy was heard.
It landed near the balcony, almost toppling upside-down but twisted back, becoming only flipped over. In other words, it was rotated 90 degrees, destroyed.
Once the wooden dust settled, it was revealed that a small figure hid behind the desk before it was flipped over rather highly that it didn’t hit the figure’s head.
It was a boy, no older than seven, in gaudy clothing, the son of the noble. Tears soiling his cheeks as he saw his dead father.
A little boy, crying.
Before the Court Wizards entered, Rose ran another [Thermal Scan] into the room and spotted the kid hiding behind that desk.
However, it was only him and the Wolfram. Where are the rest of his family? There was the family portrait of four on the first floor; a mother and father, and two sons. And looking at this boy, he was neither of the sons in that painting, they were far older than him. So where were the two older sons and mother?
The answer, they have already passed. The two sons died in the last human and Half-Beost war and the mother died from illness. That was known by the intelligence gathered prior to this mission.
Nevertheless, Will stepped forward and gazed down on the child grieving for the last family member he had left.
The robed one approached the little crying boy.
“Do you want revenge?” he said.
The noble boy jerked his head up in attention. Gazing upon the dull mask, he went from grief, to fear, to confusion, to understanding, and…
The crying little boy is an angry little boy.
The angry little boy nods.
And he didn’t even hide his slow nod.
Will stood there, silently accepting the boys decision.
“I won’t let you.”
“Hold on a moment,” Pierre, the Light Guardian and the only ‘shield’ present in the discussion, said.
“What it is now, Pierre?” Aqua, the Fire Guardian, asked.
“Must we really murder the boy?”
With that, the greater water spirit gave a sigh, “We are already over this, Pierre. You know that even if he could not reach us unless aided by the Wanderer-Maker, he can still sabotage the relationship between humans and Half-Beost that we were protecting or do anything else just to spite us.
“And we know this because a similar instance happened before.”
“Yes,” Darc, the Dark Guardian, nodded. “I could still remember Daisuke’s face when he came to me, hiring me to take care of the mess.”
“The report said you only aided, not doing it all by yourself,” Aqua corrected. “Anyway, it might be hypocritical for us, but the boy will undoubtedly live his life for revenge only to fight a battle that will only lead to his death yet could still potentially cause lasting damage to our operations.
“It would be better if we put him down now before he could make anything complicated for us.”
“Then what if the boy does not wish revenge?” Pierre argued. “He might fear doing so.”
“I’ll ask him then,” Will, the Air Guardian, said. “If he does, then it will go as planned.”
“And I will see if tries to lie about it,” Miriel, the Water Guardian, added. “I can still read the child’s intentions even behind the monitor.”
“…Very well.” Pierre sighed and turned his back. “The Fujiwara siblings would’ve tried to put an end to this madness if they know.”
“…Yes, they certainly will.”
When Aqua relayed this on the briefing, she observed Alicia’s conflicted look. When she explained to the red-haired girl the justification, the greater water spirit had the feeling – the feeling which she obtained ever since she became the Fire Guardian – that when Alicia nodded in acceptance, her heart said otherwise.
Will turned around and approached the scratched low table. He slipped his hand through the opening in his robe, pulling out a piece of fabric embroidered with the scale over the spear and shield, the crest of the Otherworldly Court, and a parchment containing a warning for those who would dare to follow the dead noble’s footsteps.
But, as Alicia watched this, she suddenly…
A lavish room
A high-quality desk
Rotated 90 degrees, destroyed
An old man in noble-like clothing
A husk without its life
Beside, a robed one covered in the same shade as the earth with blood splattered over it
A little boy, crying
The robed one approached the little crying boy
“Do you want revenge?”
The crying little boy is an angry little boy
The angry little boy nods
“I won’t let you.”
She didn’t know why but ever since her accident after her very first mission, she has the premonition of William Trust, a Court Wizard from the same peaceful world as her that upheld life and moralities, callously killing the boy in the room in the exact state with what she saw now.
And only when it had happened did she finally remembered it, as if to mock her over a prophecy that she would never be able to avert. Both because she couldn’t remember it and because she wouldn’t even try to do so as it was her nature.
Emotion suppression lifted completely.
Alicia!? Alicia!? What’s wrong!?
V-Voice, I… I…
In their respective battle, Hanz and James had both shed the last drop of blood at the same time.
Over the latter’s side.
“Hah…” James sighed. “All these lives wasted over a grudge we will never understand.”
His fellow Court Wizard’s nodded in agreement.
Unbeknownst to them, one guard was still alive, though barely breathing due to the slash over his chest.
“D-Die…” He raised his still loaded crossbow at one of the brown-robed figures who had just massacred his brethren.
“Watch out!” Richard, noticing it first, exclaimed. He rushed in and raised his shield, blocking the oncoming bolt coming straight to one Jillianis Speris’ head.
Then, James tossed his Cherished Armament, finishing the guard off for good.
“Are you alright, Jillianis?” Richard asked.
“I need not of your concern, Lazulian!” Jill snarked, but under her mask was a slight tinge of red. “I have noticed the arrow. I can handle it myself just-”
However, she stopped when they heard a solemn cry. The cry of a girl who should have never experience what she has experienced in the first place.
“Irene?” Ronald said worriedly as his wife came to him with distress on her face. “What’s wrong?”
“I do not know, dear,” Irene cried as she leaned her head on her husband’s chest. “I feel like we are going to lose our only child we have…”
Bending down with her mask off and hood lifted, Alicia felt an embrace from her back. It was from Rose, also taken off her disguise. She also felt a gentle hold on her shoulder. It was from Owen, he too took off his mask.
She turned around, looking at both of them, “I… I…” she cried.
“It will be alright, Alicia.” Rose gently pat her back. “It will be alright.”
Alicia did not say anything else but receiving her fellow Court Wizard’s embrace as she drenched her robe with her tears.
As now, she truly can’t endure any longer.
Voice: You bastard! You have planned since the beginning!?
Azhure: And that is the end of this chapter. The next chapter will be the final one. I thank you for reading so far.
Voice: Hey! Don’t brush me off just like that!
Azhure: However, I will still need more time to formulate the ending. So in the meantime, I will rewrite several chapters listed in this story’s description.
Voice: Don’t you dare ignore me, dammit!