Shackled Exalted

Emil

Emil sprinted through the streets of the Second Sector. The frigid breeze of the Azure City night sliced against his face. The city was eerily quiet, devoid of its usual rambunctious festivities, especially following the conclusion of the Clash of Dawn.

The Sentinels likely rounded everyone off the streets after Vigil intruders had escaped from campus. Not that it accomplished much besides give them an empty road to run across.

The three of them—himself, Van, and Diana—were trailing the bloodhound provided by Rohan. The canine was astonishingly fast, navigating through the winding streets of the Second Sector with ease as it followed the scent left behind Aoife's amulet. With the remnants of his injuries still plaguing him, Emil found it difficult to keep up.

"…Just what is that thing anyways?" he asked as his curiosity grew insatiable.

To his eyes, the creature was shrouded in a dense layer of mana. He would have normally dismissed it as a mere monster, but his instincts told him that there was something more to the beast.

"It's a summon." It was Diana who answered. "Sir Rohan's Gift, Call of the Wild, allows him to create copies of creatures that he has slain before."

That's the bastard's Gift?

Emil frowned, shocked by the revelation. During his torturous training with Rohan to become a Cleaner, the man never once used his Gift in any of their sparring sessions. Emil had only ever seen him use Mana Arts. Not that the behemoth of a man needed anything more than that—his monstrous physique, combat prowess, and proficiency with weapons alone made him a formidable threat for any Exalted.

It was just that, for a man widely rumored to be one of the strongest Exalted in the kingdom, Emil was expecting a more threatening and destructive Gift.

"Are you disappointed by his Gift?" Van suddenly asked.

Emil shot him a dirty look. How the hell did he know what I was thinking? I have half of my face covered!

"The world is a big place, Miles. Ardair is just a small piece of it. There are plenty of beasts beyond our wildest imaginations roaming in faraway lands."

"Sir Van is correct. Sir Rohan has many of those creatures in his arsenal. It would unwise to think his Gift as lacking in anyway."

Why did this suddenly turn into a lecture?

"So, is he reanimating fallen beasts then?" Emil asked. The idea of summoning a dead creature back alive seemed unfathomable.

"No, that's more akin to necromancy. What Sir Rohan's Gift does is create a mana copy. The bloodhound in front of you is closer to a pure mana construct than a monster enhanced by mana. The practical difference is durability. If the bloodhound was somehow destroyed, the mana copy will restore itself back to its original form. Left alone without Sir Rohan's intervention, it can do this up to three times."

…What the hell?

Suddenly, he felt stupid for even having doubts about Rohan's Gift. Emil's ability to manipulate fire and earth suddenly seemed juvenile in comparison. In essence, Rohan's Gift was able to create a rough imitation of life using mana. If Emil had been an Ordinary or even an Exalted with weaker mana perception, the bloodhound in front of him might have appeared perfectly normal.

This is absurd. His Gift almost borders the divine.

He hadn't been this flabbergasted since he forcefully became an Exalted due to experiments of the Bestowed Project. Creating an imitation of life that was almost indistinguishable from the real thing was mindboggling.

Seriously, with all these insane individuals living in Ardair, I'm surprised the kingdom even managed to retain some semblance of order for this long.

It was perhaps a testament to the work that Steiger and the witch were doing in the background. Emil had no fondness for the organization, but even he had to admit that it was a herculean task to try and maintain the status quo while a bunch of people with godlike powers were roaming around.

If anything, Vigil's appearance was inevitable.

Rohan's bloodhound eventually stopped at the end of the sprawling buildings. Once again, Emil found himself at the edge of the vast wilderness that made up of the Third Sector. The bloodhound was sniffling around in a brisk trot, seemingly trying to catch the princess' trails.

"What's our formation?" Emil asked while they took the opportunity to catch their breaths, "I'm not so naïve to think that Vigil didn't anticipate pursuers. More than likely, they'll have something lying in wait for us in the woods."

"Miles, you'll be the vanguard following the canine. Diana, you'll behind Miles in the center. I'll bring up the rear."

"Interesting decision to put yourself in the back," Emil hissed.

"If we happen to encounter hostiles," Van continued while grinning at Emil's belligerence, "I will move to the center while Diana moves to the back. The only exception is if the enemy has us surrounded. I'll make the judgement call."

"There's no need to be overly considerate of me," Diana chimed in, "While my Gift is noncombative, I can use Mana Arts. If necessary, I'm also equipped with knives and a crossbow."

"There's more than enough firepower between me and Miles. Diana, I want you to focus on observing the battle while strategically supporting Miles with healing or suppressive fire with the crossbow. I will fortify our defense and offense depending on the need."

"Understood, Sir Van."

"What about me?" Emil asked.

"Go wild. Rampage to your heart's content. It's better to let you go crazy than try to restrain you."

Emil rolled his eyes. "Don't make it sound like I'm some uncontrollable beast."

"But that's exactly what I need from you though," Van retorted.

The bloodhound suddenly barked for their attention. It seemed to have caught onto the princess' scent again as it rushed towards a section of the deep woods.

They quickly followed.

Despite Emil's grumbles about Van's formation, he naturally took into his spot as the vanguard once they entered the forest. Van's proposal was logical—Emil's high mana Sensitivity made him a natural candidate to scout for enemy Exalted, while also giving him the room to use Blaze without worrying about collateral damage. And as the medic of the team, there was no debate that Diana should be in the center where it was the safest. Keeping her alive improved the odds of survival for the entire team.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Still, it would be great to not have to be on the frontline for once, he complained in silence as he followed the bloodhound.

Thankfully, this section of the Third Sector was significantly more open compared to the path that he and Anna had once taken to the sacred grove. The undergrowth here was spacious while the forest canopy was high enough to offer plenty of room to run unimpeded. Moonlight streaked through the openings of the treetops, providing enough illumination to see where they were going.

Dead leaves and grass crunched beneath their feet. Footprints of various sizes and shapes were etched into the ground. They seemed to be traversing some sort of animal trail.

Emil kept his ears perked for beasts. Perhaps it was a bit overly cautious of him, but he couldn't help it after the incident with the monsters created by the late Professor Callum. Ellen's murder still weighed heavily on his subconscious. Every so often in the depth of night, he would think about her, wondering how their friendship with Anna would have looked like if she was still alive.

Not that they would ever get to find out.

But aside from the constant chirps of cicadas and the occasional hoots of owls, there was nothing except for their frantic footsteps and labored breaths.

This would continue for another thirty minutes.

The bloodhound suddenly stopped before a dense thicket. The canine seemed unusually tense—its fangs blared, tails straightened, posture low as if ready to pounce.

Clearly, there was something behind the thicket.

Emil silently gestured for Van and Diana to wait as he walked up to investigate. Creeping towards the thicket, he pried apart the dense foliage while trying his best not to make a sound. He winced—every faint rustle of leaves by his hands seemed to thunder. Painstakingly, he exposed a small gap in the vegetation.

There was nothing notable at first in their immediate surroundings. Then as Emil squinted and looked farther beyond their vicinities—

…What the fuck?

He blinked, wiping his eyes to make sure he wasn't hallucinating.

By the foot of a tree to his right, there were three individuals bound by rope, strapped against the trunk. Their mouths were gagged. Their eyes were blank, staring off into the distance, seemingly resigned to their fates. The clothes of their body were shredded and coated with blood stains. Nasty welts and cuts were visible from the exposed skin.

Emil backed off and conveyed what he saw to Van and Diana.

"Two male. One female. Their faces are young, likely teenagers. I'm not sure, but judging from what I can see from their clothes, they're probably from wealthier backgrounds."

"There were a few guests in the banquet hall that were reported missing," Diana said.

"Anything else? Any signs of their captors?" Van asked.

"No," Emil replied, "I didn't spot any traces."

Van had a wild look on his face. His eyes were wide and trembling at the edges. Emil could guess what he was thinking.

"Van, this is likely a trap set by Vigil. Think about it. Why the hell would there be a set of hostages bound this deep in the wilderness of the Third Sector? This area is supposed to be uninhabited."

"Yeah. I'm aware," Van replied. The righteous glint in his eyes, however, didn't fade. "But even so, they're innocent people."

"You can't be serious."

"I'm going to rescue them," Van declared, moving towards the thicket.

"Wait, you idiot! Didn't you hear what I just said?!" Emil extended an arm to stop his advance.

"Then what do you suggest, Miles? That we turn a blind eye and abandon them?"

Emil clenched his teeth. He understood where Van was coming from, but at the same time, he couldn't help but think about Aoife as she was helplessly carried away by Melody. He was supposed to protect her. He failed.

I hate myself for saying this.

"…Yes. We should ignore them."

"I can't agree to that." Van was adamant as he pushed aside Emil's hands.

"This is fucking stupid! Are you seriously jeopardizing the mission for this?!"

"Did you forget that it was my fucking stupid decision that allowed you and your friends to live?" Van snapped back.

Emil froze at the haunting statement. There was nothing he could say to counter that. He was nauseatingly familiar with the story of how Van vouched for the rescue of him, Mia, and Raz against the witch's decision. To deny Van here would be to deny the second chance at life that had been granted to them.

"…Diana, what do you think?" Emil asked as his last resort, desperately hoping that the woman from the pragmatic Lionheart would speak some sense to his senior.

"…As per Sir Rohan's instructions, I will abide by the decision made by Sir Van and Sir Miles."

Oh, fuck you.

"Step aside, Miles. Be on the lookout," Van said, pushing past the dense thicket. Without hesitation, he stepped out into the open.

Emil groaned in frustration as he moved closer to the thicket. He sharpened his senses and scanned the vicinity for any signs of a trap or an ambush.

I really hope I'm wrong.

Van

His foot sunk into the hardened trail of the forest floor. Dead leaves crunched beneath his soles as he cautiously advanced.

Van kept his ears perked and eyes moving—alert to any sudden movements and abrupt changes in his surroundings. Mana gathered from his Azurite pendant, ready to invoke his Gift at a moment's notice.

I know this is stupid.

The three captives that Emil mentioned were just a few meters in front of him. Their eyes were glazed over, staring at the forest floor, still oblivious to his presence.

I know this is irrational.

Moonlight streamed in from the openings of the canopy, casting long ominous shadows along the vegetation in the vicinity. Van imbued a bit of his mana on the foliage as he passed by.

It doesn't take a genius to know that this is likely Vigil's plan. A trap. An ambush. A ploy to slow us down and buy time for their machinations with the princess.

As he got closer, it became clear that these hostages must have come from the Academy banquet hall. The remnants of their tarnished outfits were bright, adorned in colors that an average commoner would never be able to afford. Unblemished jewelry still lined their clothes, glimmering underneath the moonlight and surprisingly untouched.

Even so, I don't wish to abandon those who are in need of help.

The three hostages before him were likely children of the guests in attendance. And yet, Van had no recollection of their faces.

In other words, these three were insignificant figures in the grand scheme of Ardairan society. Their combined value could not even hope to measure up to the importance of the royal princess. Pragmatically, they should have been ignored and left alone until the princess was secured. At least, that would have been the thought process of his heartless director, Hortensia.

But I'm not a God. Who am I to measure and determine the worth of a person?

Van always hated Ardair's ideal of measuring a person based on their "value." It was cruel. Cold. And indifferent to a person's circumstances. A genius child could emerge from the slums, but would never realize their potential due to their environment. A person's value could not be determined unless they've been given the opportunity to demonstrate it. That inherent inequality made Ardair's ideology flawed.

And there was a living example of that flaw right behind him.

Emil.

He was just a child of the slums on the verge of death when Van first pleaded for his rescue to Hortensia. Now, he was one of the best Cleaners that Steiger had to offer. And in the eye of the public, as Emil Milligan, he was a finalist of the Clash of Dawn and one of the most promising up-and-coming Exalted of his generation. One who could even give a compelling fight against the Ice Maiden herself.

Even if I'm wrong about this, please don't get mad at me, Emil.

Because the both of us know that we're very much alike.

We can't just abide by Steiger's policy of cold rationality.

Van caught a whiff of a strange scent in the air. One that shouldn't have belonged in a deep forest. Before he could investigate it, however, he heard a sound.

For you, it's orphans.

For me, it's injustice.

Just how you, Mia, and Raz were undeservingly caught up by that Desperado's rampage years ago, these hostages don't deserve the fates that await them.

One of the captives suddenly looked up. Their lifeless gaze widened in surprise as they realized Van's presence. Van silently raised his hands, trying to keep the hostage calm as not to alert any potential interlopers.

I know you wavered this time because of your guilt and devotion to the princess.

I get it.

The captive began frantically shaking their head. Van found their panic and desperation unusual. Fear clouded their eyes as if they were gripped by a visceral terror.

So, just this once, I'll take the frontline as you watch my back.

"Relax," Van muttered quietly, "I'm here to help."

As he raised his foot to step forward, he felt a vague resistance pushing back against his ankles. Alarmed, he glanced down. Under the brief flicker of moonlight, he caught a thin thread clinging along the forest floor.

There was a click.

Then everything went white.