Blood Legacy: New World of Doom-Chapter 55: Welcome To Tartarus Shade

Ikaris and the others exchanged dumbfounded looks.

What the heck had just happened? Hmm, and what had he just yelled at the end? When their brains finally clicked, their faces turned ugly.

'She fooled us.' They gasped as they glared at her, but it was already too late.

The contract with House Morgunis was already signed. For ten long years, their destinies were tied together...

"Uh... Wh-Who was that?" Ellie stammered as she anxiously stared at her feet.

Anaphiel's wicked smile faded and she reverted to the same cold, gloomy beauty she had been a minute before.

"Owen Gemini. My House and his are not on the best of terms." She answered evasively.

Since she seemed willing to communicate, Asselin immediately fired another question.

"And is it true what he just said? The blond nobleman barked accusingly. "That you lied to us. That House Morgunis is the weakest in Tartarus Shade?!"

The Tartarus Enforcer closest to him promptly brandished his cleaver in his direction as he raised his voice. Asselin went pale and put on a much more meek expression.

"What do you think? Do these Tartarus Enforcers look weak to you?" Anaphiel replied in a flat voice as she kept walking at an even pace, looking straight ahead.

" How the fuck would I know... I just got here." The young man growled in a low voice as he struggled to hide his resentment.

The beauty came to a halt, her long jet black hair swaying once before coming to a stop as well. Ellie who was still staring at her feet bumped her head against her back and the bounce jostled her backwards, causing her to fall on her butt.

Wearing only a short dress lent by Malia, she was going commando underneath and a riveting vision momentarily captured the attention of all the men in the group. Realizing where they were staring, she turned peony red and let out a flustered "Kya!" as she abruptly clenched her legs.

"Ahem... Well, personally, I didn't see anything." Asselin cleared his throat noisily, his gaze still riveted in the wrong place.

The student's chin quivered and her eyes watered once more.

'Here we go again...' Ikaris grumbled inwardly, though he had to admit that for once she had a good reason to feel bad.

This kind of script had to be the dread of a prudish introvert crybaby like her. Anaphiel turned around, indifferent to the predicament of the teary-eyed woman sitting on the floor and calmly stared at Asselin, then at the other fellows in the group.

"Listen to me carefully, I'm only going to say this once." She spoke coldly. "I have not lied to you. Officially, House Morgunis is indeed the strongest. The Tartarus Enforcers that secure Tartarus Shade are under our control, and only my clan knows how they are manufactured. We are also the only living descendants of Faulch, the Third Major Saint and that makes us the rightful owners and protectors of the Warring Lands and Tartarus Shade. I leave it to you to find out for yourself what that entails. It is no mystery and you can easily find this information at the library."

She marked a pause and then after taking a deep breath she pronounced with a glum face,

"However... Owen didn't lie either. My House is indeed in decline. Dissension has arisen between the Morgunis and the other Ruling Houses and our relationship is somewhat... fractured.

"But this is also your opportunity. A few centuries ago my family would never have accepted outsiders like you. We may have lost some of our past reputation and glory, but we still have our honor. All the clauses of the contract you signed we will abide by to the letter. Not all Ruling Houses can claim the same.

"Now if any of you want to cancel your contract, I will gladly tear it up as if it never happened. However, you will lose favor with my House forever. What do you choose?"

In the end, none of them, not even Asselin, chose to tear up their contracts. As the saying goes, the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence. But that's a fallacy. Those who lived by this precept often missed out on their lives while making many mistakes.

When even after a minute none of the youths asked to cancel their contract, the first genuine smile they had seen since the beginning of their meeting graced her face. And boy, was she beautiful!

It was amazing how a mere heartfelt smile could totally redefine the perception of a face. She was already breathtaking before, but now her charm seemed almost ethereal. She was magnificent!

Asselin, Radagad and even the bison gulped unable to take their eyes off her red lips. Ellie and Malia were barely better off. The only exception was Ikaris, but he too felt as if his mouth was unbearably dry.

Sensing the adverse effect she was having on them, she turned and started walking down the hall again. The blissful trance ended instantly and they blinked stupidly before realizing that they had just been behaving like complete dorks.

"Mooo-moo. (Too bad she doesn't have horns.)

Ikaris didn't speak bison, but somehow upon catching his lecherous gaze he felt the sudden urge to kick him. Horny jumped in pain but when he wanted to retaliate, the boy had already returned right behind Anaphiel.

"Moo!" (Just you wait!)

Soon they reached the end of the long hallway and the sun's timid rays shone on their faces. The sky was clear, but a rather chilly wind blew over them, making them shiver.

Compared to the Barren Bush's scorching temperatures, it was practically the difference between Brazil and Canada. It was summer in both places, but the climates were on opposite ends of the spectrum.

Anaphiel remained unmoved by their shivering, suggesting uncompassionately instead,

"Hadrakin is a tropical country, but the Warring Lands are hundreds of thousands of kilometers north. Summer is coming to an end and the winters here are cold. so I'd highly recommend... refreshing your wardrobe."

As she made this last remark, she gave a hard look veiled in disdain to Ellie and Malia who were wearing revealing linen dresses sewn amateurishly. Ikaris, wearing only an old tunic that was too baggy for him, also garnered a disapproving glance from the highborn woman.

Asselin had handed him one of his old tunics but he too was not much better dressed. When he and his parents had fled Hadrakin, they had only been able to take a few clothes with them and the jungle life had worn them out very quickly. The recent events had ruined his last proper outfit.

He still had his silver armor and navy-blue overcoat with gold embroidery, but if he had been wallowing in the mud, he would have looked the same. But at least he had his own pair of boots and wasn't walking around barefoot like Ikaris and Ellie.

With that aside, they finally had time to survey the street they were on. They were surrounded by tall houses stuck together. The bricks, tiles and materials were mainly made of a dark stone that hardly reflected the light. The architecture was a mixture of baroque and steampunk, and the omnipresence of Tartarus Enforcers wherever they looked only reinforced the feeling of austerity and darkness of this city.

In the distance, they could make out an absurdly high black wall covered with spikes. The Great Wall and the Hadrakin Wall looked tiny next to it. Behind them, they beheld huge black castles and palaces with tall, pointed turrets stretching up to the clouds.

But what was most shocking was the people around them. Everyone was strangely tall here!

The men and women passing by without looking at them were usually as tall as Anaphiel and the immigrant group realized that she was no exception. They were the ones who were short...

"AH! This guy is shorter than me!" Asselin let out a relieved sigh, his self-esteem safe as he disrespectfully pointed at a stocky, bearded man almost as wide as tall.

The man had good hearing because he turned back to the nobleman and snidely vociferated,

"Because I'm a dwarf, you moronic dumbass virgin who only knows the darkness of his own asshole!"

"Welcome to Tartarus Shade." Anaphiel chuckled merrily as she enjoyed watching their country bumpkins' slack-jawed reactions. "This way."

The irony was that they were heading to one of those castles in the city center. It was practically a citadel, but the black-robed beauty led them to an antechamber set apart from the fortress itself. Above the ancient wooden door it read "Office of Immigration and Territorial Allocation."