I regressed and became the Sword Ice King
Chapter 434: 434- Festival 165- The Sun Comet 14

Chapter 434: Chapter 434- Festival 165- The Sun Comet 14

BANG!

Nicho’s body dropped like a dead branch.

Lifeless.

A hole closed up with scarlet and gore in the left part of his chest. Stinging fumes were escaping the scorched surface.

The spark that once danced fiercely within him began to dwindle.

Swallowed by the welcoming hands of oblivion.

His body lay still. And so did every part of him.

His blood. His heart. His brain.

They all shifted into a mechanical shutdown. A natural phenomenon that followed death.

Usually, this would have been expected, but Ciara seemed to have waited for his vitals to finally stop before she eased from the tension.

‘He’s dead.’

The finality satisfied her, as much as it started a new wave of tension.

‘Two executives died on the same day…’

The consequences of such a feat weren’t just astounding, but chilling.

‘The Red Peacemakers may flip their flags and reveal themselves to the general public.’

But perhaps, that was for the best.

“C–Ciara.” The voice came in a trembling tone, laced with something sweet and familiar.

Ciara narrowed her gaze as she turned to find the source.

“You’re awake.”

Mariam stood. Tired, evidently as she leaned on Louis, but she stood, nonetheless.

The blue-haired Mermaid held her head firmly, glanced at the dead body before Ciara and then at the tunnel they currently occupied.

“What’s going on?”

Her question hung in the air– heavier than it should’ve been.

Because they were all startled. They were confused, and worse yet, they were lost.

Awoken by two Students with the highest unlikelihood of ever working together.

Left to figure out most of what had occurred, and finally, witnessing the death of a so-called Executive.

How couldn’t they be lost?

Noticing this, Ciara sighed.

Rubbed her temples and looked up.

“Let us leave.” She said, “I will deliver what has occurred here on our way out. We must leave before my mother closes the Portals.”

“Mother?” Mariam muttered silently while the others stiffened in posture.

The nonchalance she used in mentioning her Mother was terribly startling.

She was referring to Kira Merlin, after all. The Witch of the West.

Her name was not meant to be mentioned with such…ease.

At least to others.

For Ciara. She was just another annoying, nosy and obnoxious mother.

She spun around and turned on her heels.

“We make haste, people. There is no time to fiddle.”

With questioning expressions and hesitancy that was swallowed by the moment, they rushed after her.

Mariam lingered behind with Louis.

She seemed occupied with her thoughts. So much so that her entire world was warped in silence.

‘I lost…’ The thought lingered with a taste of regret. Bitter and sharp.

She could see the fight occurring again.

Streaks of images flashed through her head as the conflict replayed. Again and Again.

Still, nothing she could have done would have prepared her for what she faced.

‘Five came…with a synchronised fighting style that put me in shambles.’

She cursed under her breath.

Biting down on her lips as a fit of rage pooled within her chest.

Her arms tightened as they rested on Louis’ chest. Turning her knuckles white with strain.

Louis, who had been watching their departure slowly flinched from her touch.

He glanced down at her.

His expression darkened.

“My love?” He called. Syrupy and filled with the warmth of the sun.

His voice had never held as much weight and emotion as it did at that moment.

Mariam glanced at him.

Eyes meeting eyes.

A need brewing another need.

Mariam’s face broke.

Tears pooled in the corners of her eyelids as she fell to her knees.

Louis falling with her.

He never let her go.

He would never.

Instead, he held onto her firmly. Grabbed her like a mother would a child.

An embrace he refused to let go of.

Mariam’s head tilted to his chest.

Soft whimpers spread into the air as her body shivered.

“I’m so weak, Louis…” She muttered. Desperation was making its way into her voice. “So very weak!”

Her body trembled. Her fingers pleaded.

They grabbed. They tugged. They held.

Firmly against Louis’ chest.

The assassin’s firm, emotionless expression quickly dissolves like snow.

Melting under her presence.

His heart yearned. It cried.

For a moment, he let himself slip out of his mask. The constant indifference to human emotions.

The persistent ignorance of others worries.

Mariam was different. Her worries were his.

And he would stop at nothing to erase them from existence.

“Mariam.” He called as he cupped her face towards his. “When one sees the scars of their failure, do they cry over it or do they heal it?”

Her lips quivered. Eyes blinking softly under his crimson.

“They heal it.”

“Good. Now, your weakness, will you let it linger or will you heal it? Will you get rid of it?”

She shook her head. ” I-I don’t know how…”

She broke into another fit, nearly falling off his grip, but he held on.

Mariam was firmly in his grasp and he would not let her go.

“Mariam, you are one of the most talented warriors I know. You lack nothing in potential when compared to the rest of the vermin of the Great Household.

You are you, the Mermaid Princess. Warrior of the Sea Kingdom.”

His gaze peered into hers.

“Don’t weep over what is but yearn for what could be.

Your potential is waiting. Fight for it. Train for it.”

He bit down on his lips.

Words he once heard, replaying visibly in his head from a woman basking in light.

The familiar warmth that came with those ones once saved him.

And perhaps…

“When you’re done, trust me. What we faced now would be a nothing but a pebble to what you will achieve.”

A sigh escaped his lips as the words settled between them.

Their eyes continued to dart about.

Searching for what could not be seen within the other.

Warm tension brewing between them.

Mariam nodded, once.

Her tears dried across her cheeks while she sniffled lightly.

She was calm now.

And Louis saw that.

They remained in position for a bit longer.

Taking their time to reassess themselves…and perhaps their emotions.

A moment passed, and their fleeting time together was quickly cut short.

“Hey! You lovebirds!”

Turning towards the direction, Alicia came into view.

“Quickly! We’ve found the way out! We need to leave here.”

Mariam blinked once. Then twice, before realisation dawned on her.

She bolted up.

“Lo–Louis, let’s go.”

Louis followed after. A small smile on his face as he watched her.

She grabbed his hand and rushed after her.

Just as they stepped from the tunnel-like structure of the pipeway.

“What happened while I was unconscious?”

Mariam’s voice projected into the air as they turned the corner.

Alicia leading the way.

“I’ll fill you in while we leave.”

Louis replied.

“Hm.”

She nodded. Disappearing into the distance with the others.

Their destination was clear.

As they left, the tunnel hummed with a solemn silence.

An emptiness, filled with the trails of conflict and tongue wars. A banging continuation to what was left of the Sub space.

In that silence, footsteps echoed.

Step. Step. Step.

Inching closer and closer to the fallen body of Nicho Mayuri.

Light, sluggish, but nonetheless, there.

She stepped into view. Ruffia Jones.

Dishevelled with scars and dried blood, but alive and well.

Her expression was lit by the aqua hue of the Pipelines.

Her head tilted towards the exit of the Pipelines.

‘I thought they would never leave.’

She sighed.

‘Cramming the framework of this place as much as I did came with its benefits after all.’

Meticulous as she was resilient. Stubborn like a roach.

Then she turned to Nicho. A grim expression exuded from her face as she focused on the man’s body.

“Nicho…you’re not actually dead…are you?”

If a gunshot was enough to kill an Executive, then why name them executives?

Still, no response came.

So, she waited.

A minute. Then more, but the response she seemed to be waiting for didn’t come.

‘Doesn’t change a thing.’

She lowered herself, picked his body up and lifted him as she stood back on her feet.

‘Surely, there must be more to it.’

*****

The Academy was facing one of its most unprecedented events. Ever!

The complete annihilation of the Territorial Space, termed, the Homeric Academy for Gifted Children.

This place had borne heroes.

It had nurtured politicians, kingdom builders, Kings, Nobles, and Powerhouses.

Potential saviours of humanity.

But it had also borne villains. Demonic Humans.

Powerhouses who turned against humanity for the sake of themselves or their family.

Nurtured individuals who rose against the Kingdom.

Fought with Newby enemies to bring down the good of it.

At the moment, all that history was covered in blood and smoke, and soon. It will cease to exist.

As if knowing its own demise, the rain persisted.

More so, than it usually did.

The intensity of its downpour. The roaring of the thunderclaps and the fast passage of lightning had become too imminent.

It was building up to a storm. A really bad one.

In the distance, where the Academy Lecture Theatres should have stood, was replaced with rubble and destruction.

The aftermath of a collision is written in history with the flesh and blood of the participants.

Those who died would be recorded, but those who contributed would be exonerated.

A stark contrast amidst the rattled consequences.

Amidst these participants were two, who stood out like radiant constellations in the cosmos.

Tired from their assault, yet somehow energised, they sat back to back.

Panting lightly while they stared at the floating portals.

They had appeared a few moments ago.

With the appearance of Phestus Greenhorn, of course.

The instructions were simple.

Enter the portal, and leave the premises.

The instructions were received with open arms, as the students were the most tired.

They rushed out in droves through the portal leaving only a few who remained behind.

Reasons unknown to no one but themselves.

Darrell had waited to ensure the safety of Tiara Gold.

He could not bring himself to leave without her.

But Jane…had stayed for unknown reasons.

“Still not going?”

The silver-haired Elf asked with a heavy sigh as he whipped his head away from the portal.

The golden-haired human scoffed.

“And leave you to handle things? Sure.”

He mussed with sarcasm.

Though he knew more than anyone that Darrell could handle himself quite well.

After all…

Glancing farther away.

Under the bizarre dance of the rain as it struck the earth, a man’s body stood mid-air.

Not out of his control, but by what anchored him in place.

Swords of silver pierced neatly from all sides of his body, stretching across his skin and protruding from his orifices.

Mouth. Eye. Ears.

The blades stuck out like jagged spikes on an uneven rock.

A spear piercing right through him from underneath, upwards and anchoring him like a flag post on the ground.

His facial features rang with familiarity.

Roland Sunrise.