Age of Beast Tamers and Exorcists
Chapter 60: A Dance With Shadows

Chapter 60: A Dance With Shadows

’I have waited.... waited for one hundred and twelve years!’ Zmey’s thoughts were an embodiment of chaos as he wove between the crowd in the market. He skidded to a halt upon reaching the front of the alleyway, his shoe screeching against the surface. He gritted his teeth. His eyes flashed into the dim alleyway... And there was the monster, striding with ease without any care for the world. His long cloak billowed behind him. No care for anyone passing by his side. That calmness... that peace of mind.... how could he have such!? How could he... after shattering the destiny of a young man!? Zmey clasped the sword tighter, his shoes rising inch by inch above the ground. "Asmodeus Ithaqua... rats are good at hiding and escaping. But it takes one moment to catch them," he groaned, "Today is the moment for you!" He sprinted into the alleyway. *** His shoes echoed through the depths of the space. One part of him was telling him to take careful steps to avoid alerting the opponent. But the other side, in sync with his craving and sorrow, urged him to eat his cake while it was still early. He gritted his teeth... ’Come on...’ At that moment, the cloaked figure reached the dead-end corner and made a quick turn into it. Zmey’s instincts kicked in. He pushed himself forward. The thud of his shoe against the ground grew louder. If opportunity were to pass him by now, what use was there in hoping for another chance? ’If I fail to catch him, then his last statement will forever haunt me...’ In the meantime, he reached the dead end too. His momentum came as fast as his shoe dragged across the ground. His eyes followed down the path like a ready listener. Then, he saw a downhill slope, flanked by sparse grasses and wildflowers. The man had already gone down it. He was beyond the end of the slope, and... the next path ahead led left. Further into the mountains, the right path has a wide area of haze. A large river flows nearby, while the tall trees line the other part. Zmey dropped to his buttocks. And his weight dragged down the slope, raising a cloud of dust behind him - this was faster than running, he assumed. Dust fell on his face. As soon as he got to the end, he flew to his feet and stomped forward. He gritted his teeth, frustrated by his own doubts. ’Why does he seem to be much faster despite walking? There’s no way he won’t have noticed me... Am I supposed to still be impulsive even when I know this isn’t the right way? Damn it... I can’t let him escape either! My life can’t be as pointless as he told it to be...’ He rushed to a stone landmark situated across the narrow path. The man then turned right. That was deeper into the mountains. Zmey ran faster... but he knew he had to act smart, even in this kind of situation. The moment he reached the point to cut corners as well, the man was out of sight. He jumped into the fray, running up the uphill slope that led him to higher ground. A white rock wall climbed upon by ivies blocked the left and the back; thus, only the forward direction was free. He must have moved faster or hidden himself in thin air. A person couldn’t have walked down such a long path in a short period of time. Zmey nodded his head, feeling as though he was being carried along with this hide-and-seek game. He looked at the surface; it had softer soil than the heart of the kingdom, as though rain had fallen not long ago. ’Let’s do this then...’ An azure gradient of light cast a dull touch on his back. Pebbles shattered behind him, too, as though the planet had opened its mouth to devour... Zmey carried himself over the surface, sprinting as fast as he could to reach the dead end. The air whistled in his ears as he did, almost like a silent warning of impending danger. He could feel his chest tighten beneath his jacket and the joints in his legs stiffen. They threatened to bring him to a halt. ’The second time I regret not having the body of a true mage...’ True mages, like the dragon he was, won’t feel fatigue from running for such a short time. ’Even so, I won’t hold back. I don’t have the body. But I have the soul... the willpower! And above it all, I have myself! Orin Stonewood still has me! I won’t act like a coward I never was since birth!’ As he reached the end of that third path, a gallant mountain stood before him. It appeared this was an intersection of two paths: both left and right. Somehow, this also symbolised a crossroads of choices. Who knows which path the man took? ... That is, if he hadn’t vanished into thin air already. ’I must have made the wrong choice not to move with ease,’ Zmey thought, clenching his fist. ’He definitely noticed me. But... would he even do so if he knew it was me? If it’s Asmodeus, then he would likely have turned... Or got me from the back...’ Zmey glanced behind him. His sight stretched long down the path... ’... then capture me. There must be a reason why he never appeared until one hundred and twelve years later.’ Perhaps his assumption was wrong; no one showed up for him. It must be the other way round. So, he took to his limbs and sprinted towards the left... He said in his mind, ’Taking left. Right, then...’ ... Despite looking over tablelands on his way, Jurrasics, hillsides... and even massifs, his pair of eyes only saw one soul. And that was an old man with a map, compass, and other equipment for hiking. At that moment, a voice came into his mind. ’Found him, master...’ A wave of relief settled in Zmey’s heart as he sighed. Immediately, he jumped down the mountain range that he was on. And he followed his own shoeprint made when he was heading into the mountains earlier. Now, he was going in the opposite direction. He passed by the old hiker on the way - now, he could be rest assured these clear, soft prints were his. The air washed his hair close to his ears on halting at the intersection of where he had headed left earlier. Zmey looked down the rightward direction, seeing tiny prints leading downwards. These prints were so tiny they were significant for pinching the ground with a dry stick. ’Spark’s footprint...’ He told himself. Then, better immediate than late, he followed the prints. Anticipation built in him with every passing moment. Now that the man had led him the wrong way on purpose, there was no doubt that he had noticed him. And he must reach Spark’s location as soon as possible... because it should be the same as the man’s own. ... In no time, Zmey found his tame standing atop a mountain. "You’re here, Spark...!" He said at the top of his lungs... ’... He entered that building with a strange container.’ Zmey creased his brows on hearing that. He halted beside the tame. His eyes locked on the building seated about ten metres away from the mountain they were standing on. "Oh... there he is." *** Meanwhile, in the Magic Sanctuary... (Inside Lys sturdy room...) Books clattered from a shelf onto the wooden floor as Lys’s hands cut through their middles. Something like frustration and anxiety etched on his face... His hands came to rest as he held a particular book with a grey cover. He opened it immediately and paged to the fifty-sixth page. His eyes widened as he saw the image on the page... "They’re the same! I saw it... but I wasn’t very sure. The stranger that the newbie went after... he’s an active member of the Shadow Legacy! A powerful Necrot!" He immediately dropped the book and headed towards his door. ’I must report this immediately! He’s in danger right now! And the issue will get out of hand if care is not taken.’