Chapter 397: In the Company of the Vice Director

The sun of Tenebris could not pierce the thick veil of grayish clouds that hung over the arid plateau.

The ground, cracked by centuries of stifling heat and demonic mana pulsing irregularly, groaned under the boots of Klein Konstantine and Vice Director Amaera Castillon. They walked at a respectful distance from each other, and their gazes swept the horizon where ancient ruins stood.

Amaera Castillon advanced with grace, superbly ignoring the roughness of the terrain. Despite the apocalyptic environment, she remained of an unreal beauty.

Her long cyan-blue hair rippled down her back, and this contrast was violent with the gray monotony of the desert. Her deep blue eyes, tinged with a metallic gray gleam, swept the surroundings with boredom.

She wore a dress of light azure, and the almost translucent fabric hugged every curve of her voluptuous body. The silk highlighted her generous chest that seemed to defy gravity with each step, while her narrow waist and marked hips drew an hourglass silhouette of absolute elegance.

Klein smoothed his silver hair back, and this mechanical gesture often served him to mask his reflection. He observed the elf’s profile, and he was aware of the tension that emanated from her since their departure from the camp.

"I know you don’t really like me, Vice Director," he said in a neutral voice.

Amaera did not slow her pace. She turned her head slightly, then raised a perfectly drawn eyebrow as a cold smile stretched her pink and plump lips.

"What makes you think I don’t like you?" she replied.

Klein sketched his usual mocking smile, but his blue eyes remained serious. He discreetly activated his Eye of Perception, and he began to analyze the mage’s micro-movements to detect the slightest flaw in her mask of impassivity.

"Well, I’m pretty sure you look at me the same way when I was Kaiser," he launched.

At this mention, Amaera froze for a moment. A spark of pure contempt crossed her silver gaze, but she quickly resumed her walk. However, her ice mana began to radiate around her, and the temperature dropped several degrees within a radius of several meters.

"Hmm," she simply said.

She said nothing more, and she let the silence settle again. This silence was disturbed only by the whistling of the dry wind.

"So, please, do not divulge my past," he added.

Amaera stopped abruptly, then she faced Klein. Her imposing presence seemed to occupy all the space, and her natural authority commanded respect despite her haughty attitude.

"Your life does not interest me," she said coldly. "Even if someone who is really used to the Sundering Eclipse will know it’s you. If you want to hide your identity, do it better than that." 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

Klein felt a pang of irritation, but he immediately repressed it under his mask of composure. The Vice Director’s words confirmed his suspicions: she had recognized the Sword Art he had inherited from Sulyvhan, an Art she should normally not know so well as if she knew Sulyvhan personally.

"Thank you for the advice," he said in a measured tone. "So, how come you are so familiar with this Art?"

Amaera’s gaze became sharp as a blade of frost. An invisible pressure fell on Klein, and this pressure was a manifestation of her displeasure at this insinuation.

"That’s none of your business!" she hissed.

Immediately, she used her wind mana to rise into the air with disconcerting lightness. She quickly took distance, and she flew toward the steep peaks that bordered the plateau. Klein did not waste a second. He concentrated his aura in his legs, and his muscles tensed under the effort.

< Aura Technique: Dash.>

He leaped, and his body became a kinetic blur that covered several meters in a single heartbeat. He used a succession of Repulsion Aura under the soles of his boots, and he thus created platforms of compressed air to follow the Vice Director’s ascending trajectory.

As they reached the heights, the sky suddenly darkened. A shrill cry tore through the air, then a dozen others answered it. A hundred harpies, those hybrid creatures with feathered wings and sharp claws, had just surged from the rocky peaks. They swirled above them, and their bloodshot eyes fixed on the two intruders who dared tread their territory.

Klein and Amaera exchanged a quick glance, and they decided by tacit agreement to end their discussion to focus on the immediate threat. The Vice Director now had something to sink her teeth into instead of beating Klein to death.

Klein drew his katana in a metallic whistle. The steel of the blade, blackened by the essence of the Sundering Eclipse, seemed to absorb the weak ambient light. With a step so fast it seemed like teleportation, he found himself in the middle of the first group of monsters.

< Art: Sundering Eclipse >

< First Movement: Crescent Moon.>

He performed a complete rotation. A blade of white aura, of absolute fineness, sprang from his weapon and sliced the air in a devastating arc. The blow was of surgical precision: the heads of five harpies were separated from their bodies even before they could close their talons on him. The black and viscous blood of the creatures gushed in dark fountains, and it soiled the rocky ground.

Klein did not stop there. He used Repulsion Aura again to propel himself higher into the sky, and he thus avoided the charge of a higher-ranked harpy that tried to gouge out his eyes. In mid-flight, he pivoted, then he used attraction to draw to him two other disoriented preys by his speed.

< Art: Sundering Eclipse >

< Second Movement: Quarter Moon.>

Aura remnants remained suspended in the wake of his blade, and they formed ghostly arcs that struck the harpies from unpredictable angles. Their wings were shredded, their torn limbs flew through the air, and the monsters’ agony cries filled the valley.

Meanwhile, Amaera Castillon deployed the full extent of her ninth-circle mage power.

< Elemental Magic: Eternal Frost Storm.>

She spread her arms, and the surrounding mana converged toward her in a frenzied whirlwind. In an instant, a storm of snow and ice of unheard-of violence materialized, and it transformed the battlefield into a white hell.