Regaleon: The Forgotten Knight
Chapter 114: The Assassin’s Identity
The three awakened youths watched in complete silence as the hunter stepped out from the cluster of crimson trees before finally coming to a stop several meters away.
The instant its feet touched the forest floor, silence reclaimed the Crimson Forest.
Only the rustling of scarlet leaves and the low whistle of wind weaving through the ancient trees disturbed the eerie stillness as the stranger stood perfectly motionless beneath the crimson canopy.
Also, it was only now that the trio finally managed to obtain a proper look at the being who had nearly claimed all three of their lives.
The hunter was dressed entirely in muted shades of charcoal and black, garments crafted not for appearance but for concealment. Every inch of the attire seemed designed to disappear into darkness, blending almost seamlessly with the surrounding woodland.
A dark hood concealed the upper half of the figure’s head, casting the face beneath into perpetual shadow.
Covering the lower half was a fitted black mask wrapped tightly around the nose and mouth, revealing nothing except a pair of cold, utterly emotionless eyes which felt completely inhuman.
If one looked closely enough, the pupils appeared unnaturally narrow... Like those of a serpent.
A long cloak draped from the hunter’s shoulders, its dark fabric surprisingly light despite the complete absence of wind. Rather than hanging naturally, the cloak seemed to merge with every surrounding shadow, making it strangely difficult to determine where the cloth ended and where the darkness itself began...
For the briefest moment, the trio had compared it to Aureleah’s Shadow Cloak; but upon closer inspection, however, they quickly dismissed the comparison.
This was because unlike hers, this cloak possessed none of the subtle fluctuations unique to a Soul Essence. Therefore, whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t one.
Beneath the cloak rested a close-fitting tunic reinforced by overlapping strips of darkened hide that protected the body’s vital areas without restricting movement. The sleeves hugged both arms snugly, leaving no excess fabric that might interfere with swift motions.
Yet it wasn’t actually the mode of dressing that drew the trio’s attention. Instead, it was the knives; dozens of throwing knives...
Short blades rested within leather sheaths strapped along both forearms. Several more lined crossed bandoliers stretched diagonally across the chest, while others remained concealed beneath the cloak around the waist. Even both thighs of the figure carried additional sheaths secured tightly by dark leather straps.
Every blade was identical in nature, having the same slender profile, the same polished silver finish, and the same razor-sharp edge.
Each one had been forged for one purpose alone and that was... To kill.
Silence stretched between both sides...
Eventually, Veyrath swallowed nervously before helping Vaelorin back onto his feet.
The red-haired Pyromancer gritted his teeth as pain shot through his injured shoulder, yet he endured it without complaint.
The throwing knife had already been removed, and the wound tightly bandaged with strips torn from Veyrath’s clothing. Although blood still stained the makeshift dressing, the bleeding had slowed considerably.
His Fiery Staff lay several steps away. Suppressing another grimace, Vaelorin limped forward and retrieved it without hesitation. He knew that he was going to need it for the battle to come...
Meanwhile, Regaleon remained standing several paces ahead of the other two.
His golden eyes never left the silent hunter and it was only after several moments that he finally spoke.
"Who are you?" He asked, his voice calm and steady; yet beneath that calmness lingered an unmistakable caution.
The stranger offered no reply and simply stood there without moving...
This sight drew Regaleon’s brows together as he spoke once more.
"I asked..." He started, his voice becoming noticeably colder. "...who are you?"
Still, there was no reply. Instead of giving a response, the hunter slowly raised its head, it’s hood shifting ever so slightly from that movement and for the first time, it’s eyes became fully visible.
It had cold emerald irises and vertical, serpent-like pupils...
And the instant Regaleon saw them, his expression hardened.
His instincts had been right.
Ever since the stranger stepped from the shadows, he had sensed an aura that felt strangely familiar. This was not because they had met before nor was it because he recognized the individual. In fact, this was unquestionably their first encounter.
Yet the aura surrounding this hunter resembled that of the race they had encountered within the Breeding Nest; the Sauryeans.
Although none of the Sauryeans he had previously faced possessed slitted pupils, that alone meant little as no one had ever claimed every member of a race shared identical features...
The hunter slowly tilted its head; it’s emotionless gaze sweeping across the three humans before the lips beneath the black mask finally moved.
A voice emerged. It was low, hoarse, and almost reptilian.
"Va’shakar en... Sareth Ka’zul."
The strange words rolled through the Crimson Forest like an ancient curse.
And just as before, none of them understood their meaning because unlike the mysterious Sauryean girl they had encountered previously, whose intentions had somehow allowed fragments of meaning to be understood, this hunter’s words conveyed absolutely nothing.
Its mind felt like a blank canvas but the instant those unfamiliar words were spoken...
The atmosphere became suffocating.
Veyrath involuntarily stumbled back a step, his voice trembling as he spoke.
"That language..." His pupils shook as he pointed at the assassin. "It’s them, isn’t it?"
Cold sweat covered his forehead as horrifying memories resurfaced; those strange words, that guttural tone, and those unnatural sounds.
Those are the things that had haunted him ever since the destruction of the Breeding Nest. Even now, hearing them again caused a chilling sensation to creep down his spine as memories of the day he almost died resurfaced with a startling clarity...
Vaelorin tightened his grip around his Fiery Staff until his knuckles turned pale. His heartbeat pounded violently against his ribs and the dread filling his chest almost eclipsed the pain radiating from his wounded shoulder...
Even Regaleon’s expression had grown solemn.
If nothing else, that language alone confirmed his suspicions that the hunter standing before them was undoubtedly a Sauryean...
Actually, ever since escaping the Breeding Nest, all of them had expected retaliation. After all, they had destroyed something important enough to incur the wrath of a Sauryean Lord and someone of that stature was unlikely to overlook such humiliation.
For days afterward, even during their exploration of the ancient crypt, they had remained constantly vigilant. Every hunt, movement, and night spent within their cave had them waiting for revenge.
Honestly, the uncertainty had been exhausting because none of them had known when death might suddenly descend upon them.
Eventually, as the days passed without incident, their vigilance had gradually begun to fade.
All except Regaleon’s instincts as something deep within him had continued to whisper that the matter wasn’t over.
The silver-haired Knight still remembered the words spoken by the Sauryean projection inside the Breeding Nest; the hatred, the contempt, and the absolute certainty that promised consequences.
Everything he had witnessed that fateful day suggested that forgiveness simply did not exist within the Sauryean race.
Still, one question troubled him.
If this truly was their revenge, then why send only a single assassin?
Surely a race capable of creating creatures comparable to Rank One Animas possessed far greater means than this...
Unless, they simply didn’t need them as just one assassin was already enough.
The instant the realization crossed his mind, Regaleon’s expression darkened considerably...