NOVEL NEXT Chapter 160 - Hexel Highway
"This is the last carriage! From now on, no one enters or leaves until dawn!"
The bellow of the Captain in charge of the soldiers on the wall dictated absolute command once the carriage crossed the threshold of the black gates of Entrana's gigantic northern wall. The popular red-furred vilecross herself, Milla, was the one pulling the chains, commanded by a Severus, who didn't even greet the guards of the gates or offer any comments that would make them roll their eyes.
The carriage wasn't a few pieces of wood attached to a rickety structure, but neither was it a hand-carved work of logistical, gilded bordered piece of art. At least this one had doors and windows, though Tristessa didn't have very fond memories of that type of transport.
"So it took me seven deaths to get beyond Entrana…" she thought, hearing the creaking metal of the black gates closing. Identical to those in the south, with the difference in military might protecting them. "Now I see what Auron meant that time when he said it would be impossible for me to get in through here."
And it wasn't necessarily because of a troll's steel-clad groin almost pressed against the window as he passed by. That giant, stone-gray demihuman, armed with a war mace and protected by black metal armor, was one of many patrolling the northern access and the end of the Hexel Highway. Along with dozens of permanent patrols, guard posts equipped with giant mounted crossbows, delicate instruments that channeled magic into mortars, and watchtowers located on the first rises leading to the western mountain range.
Military power capable of reducing armies to ash, leaving the survivors massacred by the riflemen on the battlements of the walls or the infantry protecting the entrance.
"If I had known that having an accomplice within the Imperial Army would bring us so many benefits, I would have spoken to you sooner, Silverthorn," said Auron, sitting opposite Tristessa and on her left side. He seemed very comfortable for the moment he was about to confront an unknown supernatural entity, and so cheerful that he was making a grand soul-jewel move between his fingers. "You sure know how to cheat the system."
"First of all, outlaw, you are not a Stranger. I would have arrested you at any hint of crime. Second of all… Are you still weak, Tristessa?"
Sitting across from her, Astoria sat cross-legged, resting both hands in her lap. The pale light from the lamps made the plates of her armor glow faintly with that hue, as did the handle of the great sword secured in the weapons rack on the wooden wall. And her black cloak against the emerald-green upholstery perfectly contrasted with the brilliance of her armor.
"Do you feel the Dullahan approaching?" she asked.
"No, no, not right now." With her head bowed, she stared at the large, furry black bundle with a snout that blew scorching air against her boots. Curled up and sleeping, Vergil continued his rest after having gotten his new owner to her destination in record time. "It's just… No, nothing."
Now that they were moving away from the city, Tristessa had to summon the courage to turn her head and look out the window, hoping not to see a hooded head and a white mask with the design of a stormcrow.
"…"
To her relief, all she saw was the desolate moor falling into darkness, with the Maturin River running parallel to the Hexel Highway in the direction of the valley of the same name.
"Where the fuck are the Wraiths? What happened the first time, when they tried to kill me as we left Entrana?" She thought, unable to shake the feeling that Imperial assassins were about to appear at any moment and wreak havoc. "Sylas appeared because of the soul shard inside Jin's locket… But what about Stormcrow and the others? What happened back then?!"
Even after reviewing the events, every second of that loop, she found no explanation to the Wraith's attack. Even after suspecting every person who crossed her path... No, that wasn't true. She hadn't suspected Astoria, or Auron, or Severus... Or rather, she couldn't. She wasn't capable of it.
Glancing at them out of the corner of her eye, she felt disgusted with herself for thinking that way.
Of that gunslinger, with his arm resting against the window frame and staring blankly at the constant movement of the jewel, which was like a lovely firefly in the shadows.
Of the knightess, who had chosen not to press the issue further about her accursed condition and had lowered her gaze, as if at any moment she might receive an insult from her or Auron. A completely different way of being from the drunken Astoria she had spoken and flirted with at the Roundtable, in another loop; she was so changed, so liberated and defenseless against the hostility and rejection of the world...
So different, next to the violent and cruel drunkard of the dark sewers.
Another person, compared to the Astoria who sought to isolate herself in her small, frozen world. This realization served to distract Tristessa from the questions she couldn't answer, no matter how hard she tried and in what loop.
"Hey, Astoria." In the dim light, the woman with long, platinum-blond hair timidly raised her reddish gaze, giving her the appearance of one of those demons from the horror movies she remembered seeing years ago at the cinema. Those eyes would have struck fear into anyone on Earth, but on Nekrom, they were not only almost normal, but a symbol of beauty. For Tristessa, she was the epitome of beauty. "So, um… Your name's a little hard to say."
"Is that an insult?" Astoria retorted, dangerous like those demons from the movies.
"Shiva-mode activated, ha!" That thought made Tristessa smile. She stood up carefully, still feeling the parasitic effect of the curse eating away at her stamina, and sat between her and Auron. "No, silly. What I meant was… Huh!?"
The carriage jolted as it passed over a pit, sending the girl dressed-in-black bumping into Astoria, feeling the hardness of her armored shoulder and elbow pads against her arm.
"Raaa!" Vergil roared, annoyed at being woken up, and he wasn't the only one to complain.
"Careful, Severus!" Auron adjusted his hat and knocked a couple of times on the wall. "If you're too old to drive, leave it to me!"
Tristessa burst out laughing, which she had to cut short because of the burning sensation in her arm.
"Are you alright? Sorry, I'm moving aside." Astoria almost got up from her seat, but Tristessa stopped her by grabbing her arm and forcing her to stay there, next to her. "…"
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"I was saying I'd like to give you a nickname," she continued explaining, letting go and smiling at her as if her brain weren't currently burning with fever. "You know, like when I want you to call me Tessa or Triss. Or like when I call Sev…"
"Don't call me that!" Along with the elf's angry voice, a loud bang was heard right on the other side of the wall, making her jump.
"Wow, the walls of this carriage are really thin! Well, like I was saying… How about I call you Tori?"
"…Is that a joke?" The way she hissed that question, Tristessa slumped her shoulders, thinking there might be no way to break the ice with her like that… Or at least there was, until the red eyed knightess gently took her chin and forced her to exchange glances. Just so Tristessa could see how flushed she was, and cold like the harshest winter at the same time. "If you want to call me by that stupid nickname, then I'll call you… Kitten."
"…!"
It was chance, luck, whatever random concept it was, the reason Tristessa didn't let out a sob that held both happiness and fear in equal measure. That constant dichotomy, oil and water that her mind refused to separate. On one hand, the Astoria who almost killed her, who would live forever in her memories like a wound on her soul that would never heal and she would never forgive. And on the other, the Astoria who was right there, dying of shame for what she had just said.
Both Astorias, making her breathing quicken and her heart rate race as if she were escaping Death.
"Damn, I can't fall in love with Astoria while I'm all over heels for Severus! Are you such a greedy bitch, Tristessa Irandell?!" she insulted herself, prisoner of panic itself. "What do I do?! Do I kiss her?! Do I say meow? What the…?!"
"That nickname is adorable…" The spell that had enshrined that little world between them was suddenly broken, and both women turned their attention to Auron, one more embarrassed than the other. Especially when they saw an obvious smile forming behind his handkerchief. "I'm sorry, ladies. Believe me, I swear to Kantrus I would have left you two alone; I don't want to be the third wheel here. But the only option I have is to jump out of the carriage, and I don't want to break my neck."
"N-no, don't think strange thoughts, Casimir! I was just humoring her!" Astoria exclaimed, releasing the confused girl and changing places almost in one leap. She was very nervous, and her blush spread to her ears, which made the gunslinger laugh. "I would never court a child!"
"Child?!" Offended, and with an unpleasant feeling of bitterness running down her throat, Tristessa burned with shame and anger. "Fuck you…!"
"Hey, you three… Are you having fun?" Severus had slid the small wooden door that led to the driver's seat in the open. He was looking at them all as if his gaze could kill. "We'll be arriving at Burnt Fort Hexel in ten minutes. Go over the damn plan instead of squealing like spinnaraks in heat."
As the door closed with a certain degree of violence, the interior of the carriage fell silent. The three of them and the aracross stared at each other uncomfortably, waiting for someone to break the ice.
"Raaa…?"
Smiling, Tristessa decided to interpret that timid growl in the best possible way and stroked her beast's head with affection.
"Vergil's right. We'd better get to work."
The old Burnt Fort Hexel didn't bear that adjective in its name for nothing. What had once been a walled structure larger than those protecting Entrana, guarding the entrance to the valley like a gigantean crow's nest, was now a centuries-old charred shadow of its former self.
The countless masonry cobblestones that shaped the walls, stained black and cracked by the infernal flames they had been subjected to. The two towers and the rookery still stood, protruding from the top of the walls, though not for long, given the dozens of breaches made by enemy mortar rounds that compromised the structure.
And where there used to be a wrought-iron gate, there was now a large hole through which the carriage with Milla could have passed without difficulty. Remnants of grating remained at the edges, warped by extreme heat, and the rest had been molted and dispersed across the earth, forming a mound of pure dark metal.
Alone and weak, Tristessa felt microscopic as she stepped over that small pool of solid metal, accompanied by an attentive Vergil. In her trench coat and black pants, she blended in very well in the darkness of the night, with the Twin Moons the only ones able to spot that tiny ant entering the Keep through that massive hole.
"So this was done by [Saeryon of the Abyss], King of the Black Dragons and last of his kind. Submitted to the will of the [Princess of Sin], Ithrendyl," the girl thought, reviewing the tragic event that Auron had narrated her during the short journey. "The last time she was seen attacking this part of the world, she turned every soldier in this fort to ash. A graveyard…"
The wind blew through the cracks in the bricks, whistling a chilling melody. It carried in its current the remains of those soldiers, lost in time and without rest, which Tristessa tried to avoid by covering her face with her right arm. She felt the night's caress with a sinister harshness as it passed, surrounding her and making her tremble. She turned around, toward the darkness of the moor where the wind current dispersed, and where Milla remained hidden, watching over the carriage.
"Are you sure you want to come with me, Vergil?" At the question, the lesser demon nudged her right leg from behind with its snout, which was so large it almost knocked her off her feet when it bent her knee. "Hey! Hee hee… I'm glad I met you."
"Raaa!"
The inner courtyard was an open space filled with scorched black soil, Ghost Lotuses growing sporadically, and abundant with the agglomerated ashes of everything that had been present there when the Black Dragon King's fire engulfed the Fort.
Stables, barracks, gallows… Animals, families, prisoners, Royal Soldiers. All, without exception, returned to the earth beneath malevolent might of the legendary heat of a sea of fire.
Earth that Tristessa now trod, sinking the soles of her boots into.
Her [Divinity of Whispers in the Dark] alerted her to the fragmented presences of the dead. Shadows immortalized against the walls of the fort, haunting it. Timid echoes, afraid to make themselves known, cursed with the fear of experiencing Death again—of being burned alive. A fear Tristessa knew too well.
"Stick to the plan. Calm the fuck down and stick to the plan..."
Then there was the silence. A silence that could almost be felt… A night that was too quiet, without a single cloud in the celestial vault that stretched to the confines of the Cosmos. Beyond the light of the stars that collapsed upon themselves, where the Darkness grew. The place where the Guardians of In-Between—Servants of the God of Chaos and Dimension—had conceived that shadowy entity that was approaching.
"I can feel you…"
From one of her trench coat pockets, she pulled out a small vial filled with a silvery liquid like mercury, called Essence Elixir. Tristessa gulped down the contents that promised to help her resist the influence of the Curse of the Nemesis to a certain degree, and threw the empty vial to the floor. Some of the shattering splinters bounced off her trembling legs, off Vergil's hairy paws, and others flew and bounced in the direction where the shadows rose like a tornado of cursed souls.
"Show yourself!" she shouted, her hunting dagger drawn. Already on her aracross, who was growling at the invader with open hostility. She, who began to emerge from that vortex of pure darkness. "Face me!"
"…as you wish!"
Splashing Discord in physical form, the shadows becoming her cloak, and her black steel armor gleaming with divine majesty in the moonlight, the clinking of the pieces clashing against each other like a diabolical symphony echoing in the courtyard.
Her curved sword, promising to cause irreparable damage to her soul once its blade meets her. And her severed head, protected by that helmet that radiated Discord like a black sun, source of all the supernatural darkness that had just fallen upon the Keep.
"Hi there... My Nemesis!"
Smiling from ear to ear with anxiety that tore at her insides, Tristessa indulged herself in mocking the dark knightess. Confident in the cards she held up her sleeve, with a small dose of madness. Simple, irrational madness from someone who didn't want to die again.
"Come on, Dullahan! Let's end this once and for all!"