YM778.TV Chapter 147: Hell Tide: Eight Months
"Eight months, and this is all you can do," Reina expressed without much regard. She left, returning to her pavilion to the hot bath Talia had prepared for her. Scorching hot, Ren couldn\'t have torn off her armor fast enough as she sunk in, blissfully moaning a breath of relief.
"Gods, I needed this," Ren hooted, cresting her head against the wooden rim of her tub.
Treading her finger through her hair, Talia began untangling her matted hair. "Are you missing, Master? It\'s been about a week since they went to meet up with the Sword of the King."
Reina sank lower into the tub, blowing bubbles against the water. "It\'s even harder to believe it\'s been eight months." She sighed, enjoying the soothing waters permeating her bones. "Ten months we\'ve been in this godless hell."
Brushing out knots from her hair, Talia felt her lips perked up. "Least you have, Master."
She grinned. "Yeah. Speaking of. It\'s October, isn\'t it? And Art is making thirteen by the end of this month. Should we do something?"
"Grant us an heir, my lady!" Talia said brightly.
"Ehh!!!"
"A mini master! Oh boy!!!!"
"I… I… I can\'t have a baby!" Ren hastily said, shaking her head. She didn\'t want kids. Not when a curse hung over her head. " but… Art did say when he comes back…" She blushed deeply, lowering her face beneath the scorching waters. She grinned and arose. "The Tide has begun to slow again.
So we\'ll have a lot of rest."
"Is that code for fucking?" Talia jested, sneaking a chuckle at her Lady\'s blush.
Puffing out her cheek, Ren snorted, too embarrassed to give an answer. She changed the topic." The Church is furious that the rite is being delayed and has sent the Dawnbreakers to mount a defense: This is an excuse now that Forwin has lost more than sixty percent of its forces. Bastards. Food is at an all-time low, and crops aren\'t growing in this hellish Rain. The way I see it.
The sepith are trying to weaken Edwin\'s forces." She grimaced. "I\'m sure those bastards will begin luring people to take one of the Seven Vows to help grow their congregation. Much like what they\'re doing with all the residents of Forwin."
"It\'s a solid plan. The Church only sent healers out. Not soldiers. Most of the men owe their lives to these Maidens. I\'m sure most of the commoners are too stupid to understand that they\'re being played for fools."
"Most want the Tide to End." Reina mused, twirling her fingers through the water. " They\'ll see the Church as heroes. Or at least that\'s how history will write it." She closed her eyes, weary from the constant brush of battle.
Reina didn\'t remember falling asleep or when Talia had pulled her from the tub and padded her body dry. She woke around sundown, groggy and dry-mouthed, and a rumbling pang in her belly.
"I\'m hungry," Ren muttered. She had been eating more as of late. And unlike Altair, Reina had been steadfast against eating demons, forcing her to scour the forest for food. Whatever she found was usually tainted by the hellish black Rain or by the vile presence of Demons, rendering them inedible, at least to humans or lower lifeforms.
Ren was neither but didn\'t like the idea of eating anything touched by the hells.
It had taken much for Altair to force her into eating demons with him. And even then, Ren had to call upon the Eight Form to change her mental alignment. It had been hard, but the more she practiced, the more she found it increasingly easier.
Still, she didn\'t like the idea of eating creatures whose existence ranked lower than dung in her golden eyes.
For a while, she lay there tossing and turning when she frowned. Popping her head up, she listened.
It had stopped. The Black Rain had stopped.
Rushing out of the tent, Ren looked up at the vanishing clouds receding over the horizon. And gave a joyous gasp at the bathing land in a sheen of molten gold. Sunlight radiated through Forwin for the first time in eight months, consuming the land in a feigned warmth that slowly became a familiar one.
One by one, soldier after soldier stepped out of their barracks. Pale-faced and gaunt, withered by hunger, that made skin cling to the bone. They stared up at the sun, their hollow, sunken eyes somehow growing wet.
"It\'s over," one man said, staggering to his knees. He laughed and laughed and laughed, but there was no joy or relief. No sense of accomplishment. Just… heartbreak.
Echos of whimpers seemed to resound over the Wall and despite the demons still attacking. Still baring their fangs. The humans all wept.
"The Hell Tide was over…" they all prayed.
"No," Reina denied. Hurrying on in a single tunic and trousers. She glared at the various demons trashing against the barrier around Forwin. "Things might have only just gotten worse." She didn\'t know why, but Ren had felt like all this… was a prelude to something more. The more she thought of it, the more she felt more sure of herself.
Black clouds, Black Rain, Demons ravaging the land. It had all felt… like a…
She frowned, the thought escaping her. "We need to escape this hell. I miss good food."
"THERE BACK! THERE BACK!!!"
"The Sword of Dawn is here!"
"Where saved!"
"Food! They\'ve got food!"
"And water!"
The soldiers shouted and screamed. From young and old, they charged south of the Wall to where held the least amount of Demons, unlike the north and western sectors. The south side was relatively safe.
Reina followed after a few soldiers and frowned, noticing Altair\'s chilling expression in the distance. Even from miles away, she could see his scowl and not his usual half-smile. And she wondered what was wrong.
Curiously, Reina scanned the caravan of forty thousand men, unsure what she was looking for, when she saw him and her gut wrenched.
And it all came crashing back like a great flood. The Memory of what had happened ten months ago.
She shuddered, recalling how her barrier of blood ice melted like ice beneath the sun\'s glare, tearing into their bodies.
Altair was a ghastly pale channeling the power of the vale, cloaking her with its power when it appeared. From the Vale, a Raven or perhaps a crow that bore three eyes pierced through the light.
"I\'m free! I\'m free!" It shrieked, bellowing a lone cry to the heavens, forcing back the ion blast swallowing them. "Corn! Corn!!" It crowed.
Blood had soaked their bodies and withered their clothes to dust before… she appeared. A goddess of gold.
"Reese…" Reina said, spying a familiar face. She glared at him within the caravan. Her fist clenched, and a flash of scarlet shimmered through the gold of her eyes. "I will not make the same mistake again." She vowed. "I\'ll make sure to kill you. This time around.
I swear I\'ll take your head."
It was dark out by the time the caravan arrived, gleaming a cool, dim light beneath the four moons of Yarwin. And Lord Blackwood wasn\'t in the least bit interested in the Sword of the King, much less entertaining him and his council. From the moment they arrived at the southern gates, Altair made for his estate.
Entering with dark, sullen eyes, a glass of brandy greeted him at the entrance of his study.
Ren slid the glass to him across the desk, and the two drank in silence. Savoring the drink until their heads were light. The brandy was bitter, with the sting of amber honey, and aged barley aged for nearly seven decades. It was a bit too bitter for Reina\'s palate, but Altair quite liked it.
"It\'s my fault." She lifted the bandy to her lips, sipping it with a heavy heart. "I allowed it to get this far."
"We all have enemies, Ren." He followed suit, gulping down a shot with a flush. "Things are bound to get more lively." He grinned, pouring himself a glass from the decanter. "Cedric is spending more time with the Church. While Laros is nursing his relationships with the noble fractions."
"When do we go on the offensive?"
Name: Altair Blackwood
Mana Circle: [Third Circle 10% → 74%]
Class: [Prince of the Vale Lv 38 → 51]
Strength: 36 → 73
Dexterity: 73 → 96
Constitution: 123 →150
Wisdom: 125 → 152
Charisma: 125 → 152
Mana: 28 → 32
Name: Reina of the Moon (Blackwood)
Mana Circle: [Third Circle 32% → 81%]
Class: [Blood Nephilim Lv 7 → 51]
Strength: 54 → 169
Dexterity: 30 → 65
Constitution: 39 → 93
Wisdom: 64 → 152
Charisma: 64 → 152
Mana: 25 → 30
The prince stared at their growth and couldn\'t resist a chuckle. These past eight months, they had barely spent time off the battlefield. Spending months at a time refining their mana or honing their blades and other skills. The two had spent months swimming through rivers of blood until their hands blistered and their nose trickled with blood.
"Tonight." He answered. " The Sword of the King, Vanquess, has invited all of us into the Cathedral of Sepith. They sent a carrier pigeon three days in advance to prepare." Altair stood up, lightheaded from the brandy. "I think it\'s time we start cutting the weeds."
Reina lowered her glass to his large oak desk. "Who, perchance, are we cutting?"
"Reese Thorvel," Altair answered, heading out of his office down the hall and to his quarters, where a lovely red dress and black tailored suit with a tailcoat awaited them. Procured by Lord Edwin, no doubt. He admired the dress that reflected beautiful red scales cascading down its V-shape front. The dress was stunning without question, and Reina seemed unable to pull her gaze from it.
Altair gave a light chuckle. "I did promise that tonight would be the night, didn\'t I." he grinned almost evilly. "I wonder what I\'ll like more. You in that dress or bare."