Chapter 935 Safe

Silrat felt his feet strike a floor.

Well, to be honest, it was hardly a floor at this point, given the amount of it missing everywhere the sight went, as though some creature had bitten generous chunks of it out.

Silrat took a deep breath, his eyes wide open and bloodshot.

He didn't speak for a while, and thus the song of silence persisted around him, only disrupted every now and then by the collapsing of small pieces of rubble from the torn ceiling overhead, which allowed one to see the destroyed roof.

The Bryne Family Mansion, prepared by Genhuis City for the Premium Age Royale... was uttered ruined.

In this night, it somehow managed to look even more tragic than in the light of day. Half of it was crushed, other parts of it burnt unevenly or indented. These were quite clearly signs of a terrible battle.

Silrat couldn't register all of this though, not for a long while.

It almost seemed like his existence was trying to reforge itself within the confines of Aigas' space; re-establishing why it was relevant in the first place.

Why it had exited before....

"Uh..." Silrat choked before falling to his knees.

His bangs of crushed garnet slid over his eyes, attempting to hide the terror and confusion within them, but the satin grey glow from his irises refused to be doused by the shadow.

Its gleam, along with Silrat's heavy breathing saturated the hollow mansion with a great sombreness.

"I... I remember..." Silrat said shakily.

Indeed, he remembered.

He remember when Skullius crushed something in his hand and threw it at him, a kind of smelly dust.

He remembered how Skullius struck him in the chest, making him breath in the dust and then...

He was no more.

A sharp blow had landed behind his neck, and then everything had gone dark... until just now.

"He did that..." Silrat said.

There was a lot of conflict in his voice.

He remember what he had thought the moment all this happened.

He had thought Skullius was being controlled.

He had dreaded that it was a genuine betrayal.

He had lamented that he was going to die when his goal had never been so close, but now, from the looks of it... it didn't matter.

The full view of the city shown through a horrible gap in the Bryne Family Mansion represented the destruction of more than just property, but lives and dreams. Whatever horrors had befell Genhuis to leave it in this state must have been truly ghastly.

Apparently, it hadn't mattered that there was a City Guardian with an all-encompassing second sun that could see all and attack all.

It hadn't mattered that he was at the Incandescent Stage, with capable Capital Knights of the Honoured level to assist him if need be.

Silrat wondered if there had been many survivors.

"Survivors..." he said with a sigh, his heart finally calming down a little.

After suddenly being able to resume his rage-filled and confused thoughts, Silrat began starting to piece things together rationally.

Another look at the flattened, borne through, chipped, gashed buildings; the torn corpses of men, women and children alike – some chewed, some rotten, some flayed – forever frozen in a mess of ghastliness that would make even a seasoned mercenary grimace, and it became clear.

Skullius' intent had been to protect.

"It ended badly, after all..."

Of course it had.

Skullius and Silrat had both been guarded against the eventual conclusion of the Premium Age Royale and yet...

"I was a fool. I should have known he'd get attached..." Silrat said with a hollow laugh.

lightsnοvεl.cοm To think that cold man he had known and saved from Inhone, a man who seemed so detached from everything but freedom and strength, would be protecting him so desperately.

Silrat took steps from holey floor and the rubble and stepped outside.

The lack of liveliness was unnerving. Right around this time, the city would still be bursting with life, with people talking about the Premium Age Royale and their conspiracy theories around it.

Now, the faces of most common folk visible from this distance told only of horror.

'I was probably going to be one of those...' Silrat said sombrely.

But rather than him, what had become of Skullius?

Was he safe or had he succumbed to whatever happened for the both of them?

It wasn't for Silrat to know apparently, despite how restless it made him to not know.

He walked through the silent city while making sure his presence was as fickle as that of a mouse. Perhaps what laid waste to the city was still around. Close.

Silrat shook.

He met a peculiar shadow in his careful travel.

It was especially dark on the ground. Darker than the ones from miscellaneous obliterated buildings and human carcasses.

He looked up, behind the tall, broken walls around the city, and saw a massive tower rising into the sky.

In the darkness, it was shockingly easy to miss, especially given what Silrat was looking out for instead.

The image of the tower turned him to stone for a moment.

While he couldn't see it clearly, he felt as though the designs over it were things he should not see. They were obscure and terror-inducing, even while veiled by the dark.

Quickly, while sweating profusely, Silrat avoided the shadow of the tower, and kept moving around the city without looking at the thing.

'Why do I get the feeling that it's not only Genhuis that is left in this sorry state?' he thought.

Genhuis was one of the three great cities in Pelian. If it was brought down, what of the lesser cities and towns?

Just who were these enemies?

As someone who wasn't exactly a powerhouse, Silrat was almost brought to despair.

His plan was to leave the city and travel somewhere safe, but where else could be safe?

The capital perhaps?

But would he be able to get there?

All on his own?

Dammit!

Silrat had just passed the poor, caved-in remains of the Guilds Association.

He would have loved to still have the ability to mobilise resources yet...

Just as Silrat's hopes were dying down, something unexpected manifested in his line of sight. Rather than manifesting, it came into full view, showing the same degree of wholeness Silrat remembered.

Could it be...?

However, another surprise dashed at him before he could feel the glow of relief burst fully within himself.

Another shadow was cast over him from behind right at that moment, its properties expelling as ominous of a feel as the tower in the far the distance.

What was even more terrifying was the wafting pressure that was produced from shadow, pinning Silrat to the ground like hostile gravity!

Silrat couldn't even find the instinct nor the strength to look behind him. He felt weak all of a sudden, as though his body had just decided that the best course of action, was to surrender.

It took no genius or prodigious expert to figure out that the tall, thin, humanoid shadow had an owner who stood behind him, on its face perhaps the single thing of note being a large maw with razor sharp teeth moist with saliva.

This was one of the monstrosities that had reduced the city to what it was right now.

Silrat stood no chance.

He gulped.

'What... is that thing?' he thought, shaking.

He was done for.

He really was done for.

"I didn't think I'd see another survivor..." a voice suddenly broke the immersive despair.

...!

Both Silrat and the creature behind him were stunned, shaken even, by the appearance of a man in thick robes that could only have belonged to Mage.

Then again, only Silrat was allowed to gawk at the new arrival for more than second, because the creature behind him fell to the ground, its torso mysteriously detached from the rest of its body.

Silrat turned in shock, and saw the creature's convulsing legs in a pool of blood.

He then whipped his head to the old face before him.

"Come along now. Don't want to stay out here for long. You won't find another Arch-Mage willing to save your common life," the old Mage said, beckoning the former Overseer.

Silrat nodded hesitantly, his mouth agape and followed after the man to the only place that remained standing in the city, completely unharmed.

The Reacher Academy.

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