Every hallway door had been left wide open. Inside the rooms were people, probably servants, who’d been murdered in their beds. They seemed to have been attacked in their sleep since there were no signs of struggle. Perhaps they never even noticed they were being murdered.
One of the rooms was uniquely extravagant, and inside of it was a giant bed that could easily hold a number of people. Across it lay the remains of Dario, the master of the house.
He is dead… Kuklo glanced at the corpse but felt no emotions in particular, neither hatred nor sadness. He simply took note that someone he knew had kicked the bucket. Dario meant that little to him.
Kuklo spotted what he was looking for just ahead of him. Five believers, each armed with a blade, had cornered Xavi and Sharle at the end of a hall.
I’m not too late… Still, the two were clearly in peril. Xavi had been putting up a fight with his own sword, but he was utterly outnumbered. It was only a matter of time before the attackers’ weapons were stained red with blood.
Kuklo had no reason to rescue Xavi, but he needed every bit of help he could get if he wanted to keep Sharle out of harm’s way─even if that help came from the despot who had tyrannized his life.
Kuklo’s ferocious charge surprised everyone, and they all turned to look at him. Unleashing the power he’d so far kept in check, he swept in like an untamed animal, closing the distance between him and his enemies.
Although the heretics worshipped Titans, they hadn’t received any sort of special training. They were too busy quaking in their boots to respond in any adequate way to Kuklo’s screaming assault. The black clothes he wore, the same as theirs, must have added to their confusion.
Kuklo pressed in on one of the believers, who stood frozen in place, and slammed his balled fist into his abdomen. The man groaned and sank to the floor. If Kuklo felt no reluctance about killing humans, he’d have stolen the man’s blade and finished him off then and there. Thoughtless slaughter was the province of the Titans.
“Kuklo?” Sharle cried in surprise, her eyes wide open. She’d recognized this new intruder.
“What?!” Xavi said, astonished at Sharle’s words. “Why are you even here…” Though in shock, he didn’t waste this valuable opportunity and cut down a couple of the off-guard believers.
While the tables had been turned, they could not relax until all of the cultists were suppressed. Kuklo sprang toward another and launched a front kick into the torso of his enemy, who stumbled back into a comrade before falling.
“Filthy paupers…” Xavi spat at a writhing believer before backhanding his blade and thrusting it into his chest. Sharle looked away at this cruel, merciless act.
“Why did you kill him?” Kuklo asked.
“Why should I hesitate to kill my enemies?” Xavi replied stone-faced. Then he said, “This is quite a surprise. You can speak.”
Though he betrayed amazement, he followed up with a bored snort. He drew his sword from the man’s chest.
“Did Sharle teach you these things?” he surmised, glaring at his sister. “I don’t know what you were thinking─so you’re the ones who brought the cultists down upon us?”
Xavi’s grip on the sword hilt tightened. The idea that Kuklo and Sharle were somehow involved appeared to come to him, and his shoulders shook. He seemed ready to turn his blade on them next, and as danger filled the air Sharle turned pale and winced.
“Not Sharle’s fault,” Kuklo declared, moving toward her. He shielded her behind him, putting her beyond the reach of her brother. Xavi was making no effort to conceal his murderous intent.
“I see it now,” Xavi said. The sinister light in his eyes hinted at a crooked interpretation of what had happened. Surveying the scene of the calamity slowly, deliberately, he accused, “Well, at any rate, you are responsible for our current plight. I should have killed you ages ago.”
As soon as the words left Xavi’s mouth, his blade sliced through the air sideways. Kuklo thought of jumping back, but Sharle was there. He could not dodge to the side, either. No matter which way he went, if he tried to circumvent the attack Sharle would fall in his place to the sword’s swipe. Yet he would die unless he did. He swayed back to evade the edge that now came toward his throat, but his range of motion was too limited.
I’m going to be killed… The tip was headed toward his eyes. Kuklo reflexively turned away, but it grazed his right eye. A burning sensation assailed his face as though a heated poker had been pressed against it.
Holding the wound in his right hand, he swiftly moved to make a counterattack and found a target in Xavi’s legs. He put all the force he could muster into a roundhouse kick against Xavi’s undefended right knee.
“Hrrg!” Xavi lost his balance, having taken the full brunt of a strike that snapped into his leg like a whip.
Kuklo continued his assault, sending a knee into Xavi’s chin next. The blow seemed to have caused a concussion; Xavi slumped forward and sank to the floor. It would be a while until he regained consciousness.
“Are you okay? Show me!” Sharle circled around to in front of Kuklo. The moment she saw the wound, her expression clouded.
Kuklo didn’t need to be told that his right eye was in terrible shape. It radiated a throbbing pain, and blood, not tears, ran from it, staining red the hand he held over his face. He wasn’t so injured that he feared for his life, and he could withstand the pain, but he was worried.
My eye… Whether it was the blood or actual damage to his eyeball, a portion of his vision was gone on the right side. The worst possibility presented itself, but it was no time to dally. He just had to make up for the missing segment with his other senses. Right now he had to leave the estate as soon as he could.
“Sharle! What do we do?”
Perhaps not understanding him, she blinked a few times. “Huh?”
“Dario is gone now. You don’t have to escape.”
“Right, but there’s no place for me in this house anymore… Xavi found out about everything, anyway.”
“I see…”
Kuklo took her meaning. Dario’s death and the raid by the cultists would cast groundless suspicions on Sharle. He was worried how Xavi would treat her, too. It was easy to picture Xavi acting like another Dario. In other words, there was not a single reason for Sharle to stay home.
“Let’s go.”
“All right.”
Recovering the supplies Sharle had prepared, the two left the house with barely more than the clothes they wore.
The raging storm portended the troubles that lay ahead of them, but heading into it would let them shrug off any and all pursuit.
As if to celebrate the pair’s departure, a humongous clap of thunder roared through the air.