Haldon moved with a single, blurred step, the death sickle aid for Hadrian’s neck.
The teen did not falter; his expression remained calm. At the last mont, Haldon ca to an abrupt stop, the edge of the blade inches from Hadrian’s throat.
Then, Haldon stepped back, lowered the sickle, and stood straight, a full head taller than Hadrian.
Flicking his wrist, the death sickle vanished.
Hadrian leaned back against the parapet with a slight grin. "What’s the problem? I ca to talk," he said.
Haldon’s pupils constricted. In the next mont, like soone who’d been holding their breath and suddenly let it out, he seed to regain control of his body.
"You pulled that sa trick," Haldon said, his usual confidence in his voice.
The ’trick’ he referred to was the inability to sense Hadrian, even with his spatial sense active.
Of course, that was rely the result of the Mystical Fog Shroud and Haldon’s rank.
Hadrian shrugged.
Haldon took a deep breath and looked around. "How did we end up in Tahalyn?" he asked casually, as if speaking to a friend.
"We teleported," Hadrian told him. As expected, Haldon’s last mories ended just before he was turned into a vessel.
"You wanted my head. What changed?" Haldon asked, his eyes focusing on the teen in front of him.
"Nothing’s changed, I think I got exactly what I wanted." Hadrian said.
"A slave?" Haldon’s left eyebrow rose. "So, you’re no better."
"A prisoner serving a sentence," Hadrian corrected.
"What’s the difference?"
"Perhaps you’re right, but it will remain like this until I no longer have a use for you."
"And when is that?"
"I don’t know." Hadrian shrugged a single shoulder.
The wind blew through Haldon’s hair he’d cut short. Behind them, the procession was moving further away, the distance between them growing.
"Well," Haldon forced a smile, "I should be thankful you kept alive. You’re bound to make a mistake eventually, and I’ll be there."
"You won’t be the first." Hadrian said, rembering the old witch’s threat.
Though Haldon seed calm, Hadrian could sense the unrest churning within him.
"What now?" Haldon asked, chin held high.
"You said your ’lover’ showed interest in you." Hadrian crossed his arms, still leaning on the parapet. "Did he tell you anything else? A thod for you to rise in rank, perhaps?"
Haldon’s eye muscles twitched at the provocation, but he did his best to maintain his composure.
"Can’t you access my mories and make tell you?" he asked, his smile fading.
"Not all of them." Hadrian shook his head. "Especially not the ones from before you
beca a vessel."
To an outsider, they would look like two colleagues discussing business.
Jasmine and Haldon were both of the Space Path; Hadrian suspected Jasmine had planned to nurture Haldon as a prodigy, perhaps sharing knowledge obtained from the witches regarding advancent beyond the fifth and sixth ranks.
"No. Sorry to disappoint," Haldon said.
"Sha."
Listening to the now-distant chants under the livid moonlight, Haldon went quiet for a mont, the night breeze carrying the sll of the sea water to them.
"What happened at the battle?" He asked.
Hadrian considered him for a mont. "Jasmine won," he said. "His ritual was successful."
"Ritual?" A slight crease appeared in Haldon’s brow.
"You didn’t know either..." Hadrian looked amused. "Yes, a ritual. He sacrificed everyone to rise to Rank Six. If it weren’t for , you would have been sacrificed too."
Haldon looked toward the rooftop, processing the information. "What was the ritual?" he asked in a low voice.
"Do you think I would simply tell you?" Hadrian replied with a touch of contempt, shaking his head.
In truth, he didn’t know either; the witch hadn’t told him.
"In any case, that shouldn’t concern you. We’re on the other side of the continent," Hadrian continued. "While you’re serving your sentence, you’re going to help with certain matters."
"What matters?"
"You’ll help find the Sisteron. You’ll find thods to rise in rank without Pandemonium Realms, easier thods than consuming multiple cores. And once we find them, I’ll need a test subject to ensure they work." Hadrian paused. "Which would be you."
Haldon nodded slowly, a short silence passing between them.
"Well, I should be thankful. It’s an opportunity for to grow in power," he said, that familiar grin tugging at his lips.
"One more thing." Hadrian stepped away from the parapet. "Having your right arm and torso torn off is quite... inconvenient."
Haldon’s expression turned puzzled.
Suddenly, his body froze, and his right arm jerked out straight.
Hadrian took unhurried steps forward and gripped Haldon’s right arm with his left and shoulder with his right.
"An eye for an eye you’d once told ." Hadrian said, then, returning partial control to Haldon and channeling Force Path essence, he ripped the man’s hand clean off.
Hadrian leapt back to avoid the spray of blood. He watched as Haldon thrashed in agony, teeth gritted, his body still mostly bound by Hadrian’s will.
Hadrian, however, only frowned. It didn’t feel the way he had imagined. He had died in a similar manner at the hands of Truston and Haldon, and he’d thought this would feel like justice.
Instead, the scene was more pathetic than satisfying. It felt beneath him.
Before the man could bleed out, Hadrian took full control. Using Substitution with one of the large sea-bird vessel, he closed the grotesque wound, sealing it into a stump.
If he wanted to, he could use Substitution to regrow the arm entirely, just as he would for himself.
He could have used Baruch’s Flesh Path essence, but at Rank One, it was incapable of healing such a thing naturally.
Gasping for air, Haldon rose to his knees in the pool of his own blood. His confidence was gone, replaced by raw fear.
Hadrian took a deep breath. "If you prove yourself useful, I might get you another arm. If not, well, you have another arm."
Haldon’s pupils darted to his severed hand lying a ter away. His heart hamred against his ribs, nearly breaking out of his chest.
"How do I reach you?" He asked in a shaky voice.
Hadrian let a mont pass.
"Pray."
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