"~~Row row row your boat, gently down the stream~~"
"~~rrily, rrily, rrily, rrily. Life is but a ....~ DREAM~~" Opening his eyes Rosso felt hollow. He didn’t know why such a song played in his mind, to whom that wonderful voice belonged that sang this song for him.
’What is this language?’ He asked, finding it odder than the one he was aware of. And for so reason, he knew the aning of it all. ’mory?" Rosso spoke, looking around the small boat before turning in a certain direction again. ’Master, please tell, what this was.’
The escape from Team One was made after many considerations on Rosso’s part. Part of which was his suspicions, the other part of him implicating in things that will only bring them harm, for he understood how much his Creator loved them.
His Creator was very sad when his first daughter was taken away from him, it’s that loss that drove his Creator to take in orphans of all kinds of backgrounds and provide them ho and purpose instead of hollow survival. So it’s wrong for Rosso to drag them to dangerous places like that.
It was with such noble emotions that he had run away from them. But during his escape, sothing caught his eye, an aura too familiar to him, the aura of his Creator that he hadn’t seen for years.
But he was not blind or foolish, he knew nothing of the capabilities of his pursuers, who knows if they were setting up a trap for him? So although he did feel attracted to such Aura, he didn’t make a move. It’s better to be safe than sorry considering what was on the line.
"How close are we to Pulgasiri?"
"Still two days of travel." Spoke ship’s captain. Appearing thinner than before though still maintaining a clear head considering the little bombs that were hidden in his body. As for the reason why his body was in such a bad state? Well, the reason was sothing simple as well.
Rosso ignored the captain and went under the deck again. The small sleep he had was enough to reinvigorate his mind, which ant he could deal with the things below again.
As for what they were?
"Lord... have rcy, let go, or end ee." Said the pathetic Voodoo Priest. Currently stuck in the center of a small formation that drained his blood as well as vitality to strengthen the seals on the seven corrupted objects that Rosso found in the vault.
Unlike the shoddy work of the Voodoo priest, these seals did their work perfectly and actually sealed the corruptive force in these objects tightly inside.
If there was one thing that Rosso regretted was using his ring to house such objects. ’It’s not opening anymore.’ The Ring currently reeked of rot, it seed to have grown an eye of its own which was only visible under Rosso’s Eye of lancholy, while on the surface, it still appeared normal as before. ’I have to do a purification ritual before I can access my riches again.’
The Ring was useful, but not that important in Rosso’s eyes. It had fulfilled its purpose and helped him carry these cursed items to the boat easily. The rest, he could handle it all himself.
"I can’t, not so early... Not before I can extract all value out of your life as well as death." Rosso had extracted as much knowledge as he could using the dream thods of his Creator which took a lot of effort to execute on his end. But with so coaxing and pain, the voodoo priest was very welcoming, letting Rosso access a stream of information that was mostly useless, but there were so things of interest as well.
However, this information was not that useful for Rosso in the current situation. He needed ti to digest it before making it his own. Or maybe he can go a step further and use magic techniques using Voodoo as a proxy. However such things are too far-fetched to even imagine.
Many in history had the sa idea as Rosso, but rarely did anyone succeed without going mad. Of course, this didn’t an this knowledge was useless. It did give Rosso so new ideas and opened entirely fresh avenues for him to explore if he wished to.
Though such explorations are kept for the future, for now, his focus remains on the task at hand. Ignoring the woeful cries of the Priest, Rosso ca to the relic that attracted him the most among this bunch. The one whose purpose was the easiest to understand in his eyes.
The reason being?
It was a simple Ceremonial dagger without a single edge on it. Unless you stab soone else with it, it’s virtually impossible to harm a person with this through slashes alone.
Pretty useless if one were to think about it. "This one can be useful." He thought to himself.
The way to suppress the corruption of this item was not simple, through the short ti lived with this dagger, he understood what it wanted. And as long as this dagger got that thing, it will return to a calm state. As for what those were? The answer was not so simple without doing so experints.
Of course, if Rosso had to co to a simpler conclusion considering its shape and the nature of the items, wouldn’t it be lives? It wants to feed on sacrifices. It wished to lodge itself in its victims’ hearts and drink its blood. ’Though still can’t be sure unless I give it a try.’ the shape alone was proof enough of what it might have been used for.
And now that it’s corrupted, it might seek the very sensation that led to its corruption. ’Hopefully, I am never forced to use you.’
******
How many tis it’s been?
How many lives had he taken?
At a certain point, it all becos numb.
Farhad’s body got used to the carnage, while his mind slowly drifted into the distance, slowly dissociating himself from the acts he was doing.
Though was it by will? Farhad can’t say this for certain. Part of him wanted to stop, but the other part did his part in the war because that was his job. A monster reared in Cynark with only one purpose in life.
"Wake up Farhad." Spoke a familiar voice again, a voice that had always been close to him, for the voice was his own. But Farhad didn’t wake up.
By the day he would go behind enemy lines and kill to his heart’s content, sotis even feasting on the death which earned him countless disgusting nas, most famous among which was the Blood Revenant. Considered among the mortals of Langfurt as the resentnt spirit of all the death on the battlefield getting a physical form.
His existence alone had beco a scourge on the frontline, making even so Grand Master-level figures make a move against Farhad. But the result, well let’s just say that Langfurt had lost two of their Grandmasters this way.
As for deploying Legendaries? That won’t be happening. It will never happen no matter how serious the battle turns.
As long as the existence of the country itself is not at stake, they would rarely make a move. Though with the way things were going against Langfurt, it wouldn’t be odd if they were forced to finally make a move.
But that thing never happened, instead, a new order ca to Farhad, who was given his own place down under the military encampnt, all in hopes of keeping this monster away from the rest of the soldiers.
For who knew, when the animalistic nature of this monster takes over his mind and harms his fellow n?
"There is no need to go out today, a ceasefire has been announced." Spoke to Farhad’s Commanding Officer, who sweated every ti he entered this room.
Although Grand Master himself and considered a great Soldier due to his past achievents on the battlefield. The man still paled whenever he entered this small room.
That’s how much he feared Farhad. A fear that was deeply ingrained in his blood that told him that the being he was dealing with was far stronger than anyone could ever hope to imagine. "The war, their forces keep gaining n... and they are stopping the war?" Farhad asked, his eyes tired after all the carnage.
He felt disgusted at himself, the things he had done, and how easily he had gotten used to it. Sotis, Farhad even wondered if life would have been better if he had stayed in Yethel all this while.
’Sadly it’s too late.’ the voices and dreams had disappeared for the past five years. The feeling that soone was watching him had long disappeared, turning him lonely. ’This is my life now.’ He didn’t know what happened to Jester, but he had hoped sothing more would have happened before he disappeared.
At least a simple eting.
’Hah, it’s what life is.’
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