6 Words [Chapters 43-44] Progression Fantasy

Hey peeps!

If you want to start this story from the beginning, go [HERE].

I'm hoping to just upload the entire ending of this by the weekend. It's another 10 chapters or so, after the festival.

Very soon!

Shami

Chapter Forty-Three

“Freedom is for wolves.

Sheep crave confinement and limitations.”

- A quote from ‘The Teachings of Shoki’

            I took one step out of the final gate of the third wall and froze. My entire life, I had never carried weapon. Making certain it was with me at all times hadn’t ever been a priority.

            “One moment,” I said.

            Mazun and Saiki waited for me at the gate as I turned on my heel and dashed back to the barracks. I was fast—practically flying over the ground as I made my way to where they stored the weapons. Once I grabbed one of the naginatas, I returned to the gate, my weapon held in one hand, the sword-portion close to the ground.

            “You know how to wield a naginata?” Mazun asked.

            I nodded.

            “We don’t need toys,” Saiki said with a huff. She eyed the naginata and then crossed her arms. “You can rely on me to kill a tiger.”

            “I’m perfectly capable of killing the tiger with my magic,” I stated.

            “Then why carry that stick with a sword tied to the end?”

            I held up the naginata. The red string tied near the blade fluttered in the evening winds. After a long sigh, I said, “I want more options for fighting.”

            What I didn’t tell them was the limitation on my magic. I couldn’t drain life essence forever, and there were certain essences I wanted to avoid, so having a weapon was better than not having the option.

            Mazun motioned to the naginata. “That is standard issue weapon made from inexpensive materials. As our lord, you must set an example of greatness. Your weapon should reflect that.”

            “Do you think the emperor would craft a naginata from lunar silver?” I hadn’t given that thought until this very moment.

            “I don’t believe he has ever done so.”

            We headed out of the castle, and beyond the flourishing farmlands. The crops grew fat and colorful, signaling how close they were to the harvest. Perhaps the farmers would collect plenty of food once the festival had concluded?

            “We can have a naginata made from the finest materials in the area,” Mazun said. Despite his armor, he walked with a brisk step. He had been injured days prior, but that was no longer the case, clearly. “If we make the blade from steel, the shaft from hickory wood, equip the shaft with steel fittings, and give you leather grips, the weapon should be quite durable and deadly.”

            I wasn’t very knowledge about weapons, or the best components to make them. If Mazun thought those were acceptable, then I trusted him.

            “Please have it made,” I said.

            Mazun bowed his head.

            “Pah.” Saiki rolled her eyes. “Your weapon will be worthless without the lunar silver. It is one of the few materials that can harm the most powerful of demons. You shouldn’t even bother with steel unless frail humans are your only prey.”

            As we strode past the last farm, Saiki stopped.

            Her eyes widened—the hourglass shape of her pupils rather disturbing—and she stared at a distant chicken pen. After licking her lips, she sauntered over to the fence, a smile widening across her face.

            There were only five chickens in the enclosure. Some people in the city had coops for their chickens, but out on the mountains, it seemed more common to keep the chickens in rudimentary enclosures, which surprised me. Apparently, the farmers weren’t too afraid of their chickens going missing—or perhaps these were birds that would be quickly eaten.

            Perhaps even cooked up for tomorrow’s festival.

            Saiki gracefully leapt over the fence. The silk robes she wore restricted the movement of her legs, but she was so strong and agile, it didn’t seem to matter. Once she landed in the pen, the chickens woke and began clucking.

            Saiki grabbed a rooster by one of his legs and then carried the thrashing bird back to the fence. With fierce clucking that bordered on shrieking, the rooster scratched and pecked and flapped his wings. Saiki was completely unharmed, however.

            Demons had remarkable tough bodies, and the poor rooster stood no chance against her.

            The rooster did, however, shred the sleeve of her robes, tearing through the silk with its razor-sharp talons.

            With a snicker, Saiki leapt over the fence in a single bound and then landed next to me. She then brought the rooster to her mouth and bit its neck.

            At first, I thought she was killing it right in front of me, but instead, she only bit the bird enough to puncture some of its flesh. Saiki injected the rooster with some of her venom, and the bird jerked in her grasp, slowly becoming paralyzed.

            “Come,” Saiki said as she removed the rooster from her mouth. “We have our lure. Let us capture a tiger.”

            Mazun, who had been frowning the entire time Saiki had been collecting the rooster, groaned in response. “It’s going to be a long night.”

*六つの言葉*

            We headed out into the forest, traveling west for nearly two hours. Saiki carried the rooster, and as we reached the depths of the trees, to the darkest shadows, the rooster awoke from his poison-induced slumber.

            The rooster crowed so loud, it hurt my ears.

            “Quiet that beast,” Mazun hissed.

            Saiki flashed him a coy smile. “Oh, no. We want our lure to scream.” She laughed as quickly hurried out ahead of us. Then, once she reached a clearing between three trees, she grabbed a branch.

            Webbing slid from the tips of her fingers and she affixed it all to the tree. Then she quickly spun a web between the three, her hand delicately crafting the ethereal silk into a pleasing sight.

            Before she set the rooster on her web, she snapped one of his legs.

            The bird cried out and flapped his wings even harder, his feathers falling out from the stress and panic. Everything in the forest knew the bird was here. Perhaps even the people at Wist Castle knew as well, that was how loud it was.

            Saiki tangled the tortured rooster in the web and then stepped away. “See?” she asked with a purr. “The perfect lure. An injured bird draws cats better than any other method.”

            “You truly think a tiger will find it here?” Mazun asked.

            “Of course, human. If you know what your prey desires, you can entrap anything.” Saiki slid a hand down her cheeked, down her slender neck, and then down the side of her body, all the way to her hip. “I knew what men desired, which made them easy prey.”

            “Ugh.” Mazun looked as though he might vomit.

            Saiki straightened her posture and glared. “Not all men are enticed by flesh, but enough were.”

            The rooster flailed about, tangling himself more in the webbing. Soon, it was difficult for the bird to move. He kept clucking and crowing, making enough noise for a whole flock of birds.

            “You reek of disgust,” Saiki said, eyeing Mazun. “I’ve not known a male human so repulsed by the female skin I wear.”

            Mazun forced half a smile. “I loathe demons.”

            “Such contempt. You’re lucky we both serve the same lord.” Saiki stepped closer to him, her eyes alight with hunger. “I’d effortless end you,” she playfully whispered.

            Mazun, unblinking, never moved an inch. “You can underestimate me at your own peril.”

            A presence in the woods stirred. I slightly turned away from the conversation, my attention now drawn to whatever was moving closer to us. The rooster cried out, in agony, probably pleading for mercy in the language of fowl, unaware of the predator moving our way.

            The forest stirred, shadows shifting in the twilight as the trees seemed to sway with an unseen force. At first, it was just a rustle, barely perceptible, but then the underbrush parted, and the ground beneath my feet seemed to tremble. A figure loomed from the dark edge of the woods, vast and silent.

            “I saw when you fought that pathetic hunter demon,” Saiki said, a giggle on the last of her words. “You speak of yourself as though you weren’t the one nearly run through.”

            I ignored their conversation, my pulse quickening.

            Something stepped into a silver of moonlight that cascaded through the leafy canopy.

            It was a bear—no ordinary one, but a beast that dwarfed anything I had ever seen.

            Its thick, shaggy fur was matted with dirt and leaves, and it was a black coloration so deep it seemed to drink in the fading light. It moved with terrifying muscles rippling beneath its coarse hide. As it lumbered forward, each step made the earth seem to shudder, a deep rumble that echoed in the pit of my stomach.

            It was only thirty feet away, its black eyes fixed on the rooster screeching in the webs.

            Saiki, mid-word, quieted herself and turned on her heel. She eyed the bear, and that was when Mazun noticed it as well. Mazun grabbed the hilt of his blade.

            The bear’s head swung slowly as it walked, its eyes sliding over from the rooster to me with a cold, predatory intelligence. It sniffed the air, nostrils flaring, and a low growl rumbled from its massive chest.

            “Such defiance,” Saiki said. “The poor beast thinks to scare you away from its future meal. Little does it know who will be doing the eating.”

            “Is this creature even a normal bear?” Mazun whispered.

            “It’s ancient,” the Warden said in my ear.

            That made sense. The life essence I sensed from the beast was potent, as though it had lived a long life and learned quite a bit along the way.

            Once the black bear was closer to rooster—maybe ten feet from us—it reared up on its hind legs. The bear was an awe-inspiring eight feet tall, towering over us all like some elder god of the forest. Its weight, easily eight hundred pounds or more, was apparent in the sheer power of its frame, and yet there was nothing slow or cumbersome about its movements. It was a creature built for devastation.

            The bear stood there, a hulking menace, as if daring me to make the first move. When it flexed its paws, its claws lengthened.

            Saiki snickered. “If you want, I can kill it. Just give the command.”

            “No,” I whispered. “I owe the bear the respect enough to do it myself.”

            I stepped forward, my naginata held in one hand. Mazun half-drew his blade, ready to step in at a moment’s notice.

            The bear flashed its fangs and then leaned forward for a powerful swipe of its deadly claws. Thankfully, I was quite fast, and leaned out of the way of the blow. With a slam that shattered a portion of a tree trunk, the forest was brought to life.

            Everything was crying now, not just the rooster. Owls. Large cats. Distant birds. Everything was awake and fleeing.

            The bear roared, but I just held out my free hand. After a quick exhale, I used Axraksii’s magic, draining the creature’s life essence. Like the hunter demon, this bear had far more than I had anticipated. It didn’t just instantly die, like some of the other creatures I had dealt with.

            Instead, the bear lunged, and I had to leap aside, all while draining its life.

            It slammed forward, heading for Saiki and Mazun. With battle instincts befitting someone who fought in several wars, Mazun shoved Saiki aside before leaping in the opposite direction, completely avoiding the jaws of the ancient bear.

            But the creature didn’t have the strength to get back up after that. As I siphoned the last of its life, the bear collapsed, its fur losing color, its muscles atrophying.

            It had once been mighty, but after just a few more seconds, it was nothing.

            The beast’s life essence flooded me with hot, raw power. Unlike the red elk, unlike the axolotls… This was different. Better. Wonderful.

            It was still painful to contain within my body, but once I slept, and absorbed the bear’s strength into my own, I knew this would be a boon.

            I exhaled, my breath hotter than before. It left a visible fog.

            “Such power…” I clenched my hands into fists.

            “Once you realize what else it out in the world, you’ll realize this is just an appetizer,” the Warden said. “Trust me. Keep seeking out creatures. Bigger ones. Stronger ones. You’re only at the bottom of the ladder. Imagine what’ll it be like at the top.”

            What an odd thing to say. I was a Ring Warlock—the most feared and powerful individuals in the Tze Empire. How was I at the bottom of any ladder?

            But I ignored him and turned my attention to Saiki and Mazun. Both were unharmed, and as Saiki was getting to her feet, Mazun walked over and offered a hand.

            She slapped it away and effortlessly stood on her own. “I was in no danger.”

            Mazun allowed his hand to drop to his side. “I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

            When we had fought the hunter demon, Mazun had also attempted to save others. It seemed more his priority to be shield rather than a sword, and I did appreciate that about him.

            Saiki stepped close to Mazun, her eyes narrowed as she examined his face. The man actually leaned away from her.

            “You are… not part demon, like the others.” Saiki wrinkled her nose. “But I supposed I can tolerate you.” Then Saiki patted Mazun’s black hair, as though petting him.

            Mazun jerked away from her touch, practically scoffing as he went.

            “Don’t flee,” Saiki said. “You remind me of my children. They’re so small and frail. I must protect them all. And look at you—with your soft hair. In the future, I will save you.”

            It was clear that Mazun wanted to bark back at the demon, and probably tell her to never touch him again. But he didn’t. He smoothed his hair and sighed. “Thank you.” He said the words as though his were being threatened and this was the only way out.

            Well… he was trying to get along with her, at least.

            Before we left the woods, I turned to the rooster. It continued it futile struggle, and instead of allowing it to suffer any longer, I held out my hand. My magic drained its life away in an instant. The rooster shriveled and died, but at least its essence was with me now.

            “Thank you,” I whispered, both to the bird and the bear.

            Perhaps we would need more shrines in the castle…

Chapter Forty-Four

“The king of the Hanthan Imperium descends from a line tied back to Ozeon.

They say the royal line is filled with the fiercest warriors to ever walk the land.”

- A quote from ‘Varinth’s Beginnings, a History Book’

            Walking back to the castle with the unsullied naginata still in my hand felt foolish. I shook the thoughts away, though. My logic had been sound, even if I hadn’t used it. Better to have it and not use it than to be without and need it.

            Saiki walked alongside me, smiling as we neared the outer castle wall. The sleeve of her robes was in tatters, but she remained beautiful regardless.

            Mazun had been quiet for some time, but once we reached the farmlands, he turned to me. “Your magic makes you stronger as you drain the life of others?”

            “Correct,” I replied.

            “Fascinating.” Mazun straightened himself as he walked, his gaze lifting until he stared at the top of Wist Castle. “And you gave me some of your power?”

            “You’re my bladekeeper—and I trust you. Your strength is my strength.”

            “I see…”

            Bonds of loyalty were beautiful when they were strong. As a Ring Warlock, and ruler of this land, that was what I was striving for. Why would I ever settle for anything less?

            Saiki fluffed her white hair, her smile never waning. “Spiders don’t normal keep families, but I also find strength in my offspring. It amuses me that I would find myself tied to a Ring Warlock who does something similar… Perhaps it is fate.”

            As we neared the wall, I thought I would head inside, sleep, and then finally enjoy the ascension festival, but then a scream pieced the night. It was the cry of a frightened woman, and my chest tightened.

            “What was that?” Mazun asked. He ran toward the wall and called out. “Report!”

            A soldier on the wall pointed. “The bathhouse! It came from there!”

            Yuna?

            I dashed forward, and then leapt to the top of the wall, bounding like powerful beast. The soldier yelped as I landed on the stone walkway near him. I didn’t wait for a greeting—I leapt again and landed inside of the castle boundaries, my heart slamming against my ribcage.

            Running faster than I ever had before, I arrived at the bathhouse in a flash. I slammed the sliding door open and rushed inside.

            “Yuna?” I was so panicked, I forgot to add an honorific.

            She was in the bathhouse, crumpled on the floor, her hands shaking. Her black hair cascaded over most of her face, and for some reason, she kept trying to move it.

            “Help!” Yuna cried out, her words strangled by sobbed. “I-I need help!”

            I didn’t remember moving, I was just by her side. I set my naginata down, unconcerned with it at the moment. When I picked her up, she clung to me.

            “R-Rimon-nox,” she said after she gulped down air. “Something is wrong. My face… It’s so painful…”

            Painful?

            I turned on my heel. “Hold onto me. I’ll bring you to the physician.”

            When I exited the bathhouse, Saiki was there. Well, she wasn’t on the ground—she clung to the edge of the roof, practically hanging over the edge, staring down at me with her intense eyes.

            “I smell no blood,” she said. “Only distress. Your wash maid probably had nightmares.”

            “It’s real.” Yuna covered her face with both hands. “It’s so painful.”

            Mazun ran through the main gate by the time I took off toward the castle. Even with Yuna in my arms, I shot across the road, flying by the stalls and decorations. I passed through the second gate. And then the third. When I finally reached the castle, I leapt up the stone steps and headed for the corner of the castle that housed my physician, Nikko.

            I flew open the sliding door to the medicine room.

            Several futons were unrolled on the ground, and a fire was lit in a far stove built into the outer wall. Smoke went outside, but the heat stayed in. A vast cabinet filled with bottles of herbs and ointments was opposite the stove, and Nikko stood before it.

            Nikko turned on his heel. His cherry blossom robes were tied tightly around his slender body, so that they weren’t loose.

            “R-Rimon-nox,” the man stammered.

            I hurried to him, my sandals clacking on the bamboo mats that made up the floor. I should’ve removed my sandals before entering, but I had refused to stop for even a second.

            “Something is wrong,” I said as I held out Yuna.

            Her hands remained firmly pressed against her face. She trembled as Nikko examined her, but with her hands in the away, there was little to see.

            “Set her down here.” Nikko motioned to a futon.

            I did as he asked, gently lying Yuna down. I removed my sandals and crossed my legs afterward, prepared to stay with her.

            Nikko knelt and placed a hand on Yuna’s shoulder. “Please, let me see the injury. I cannot help you unless I know what’s wrong.”

            There was a strained moment of silence before Yuna gulped down a breath. With her lower lip quavering, she moved her hands.

            I caught my breath, my eyes going wide.

            Her face…

            A growth had formed over most of her. Or perhaps it was better described as a scab? It was large, deformed, and hideous. It was like a starfish had scurried over her eyes and nose, half-absorbed into her skin, and then died, leaving its shriveled body permanently affixed to hers.

            The “scab” was lumpy, and glistened with a sheen that betrayed the light coating of mucus.

            “What is this?” I demanded.

            I had never seen anything like it.

            Nikko’s face had paled. He just… stared. The man clearly had no idea what was happening.

            “It hurts,” Yuna repeated, her words unsteady. “W-What should I do?”

            “I… will gather some tools.” Nikko stood, his gaze turning to the cabinet. Did he have something to help? Perhaps a knife, so we could cut off whatever had merged with Yuna’s face.

            While the physician fretted about the next steps, a low and steady laughter built in my ears. I rubbed at my temple as the Warden’s mirth grew to almost unbearable levels. The Warden laughed and laughed, as though whatever were happening delighted him to no end.

            I stood, my teeth gritted.

            “Rimon-nox,” Yuna pleaded. “Please don’t leave.”

            After a long exhale, I knelt. “Of course. I’ll be right here.”

            “You’re so frightened,” the Warden said, laughing the whole way. “And your pathetic physician—he has no idea what he’s going to do. How do you not find this amusing?”

            I ignored him. Instead, I took one of Yuna’s hands and rubbed her knuckles.

            “Don’t you remember what you gave her?” the Warden asked, this time playful.

            “What did I give her?” I asked under my breath.

            “The essence of the evenfall axolotl. Remember? How the axolotl uses lumps of flesh to regrow organs? What do you think is covering her eyes?”

            Delight welled up in me. The Warden… He had told me about this.

            I hadn’t thought it would look so horrific, though.

            “Humans aren’t meant to regrow their eyes,” the Warden snapped, his harsh words deep in my ear. “This is what you get when you give the telos ability of another creature to a human. Sometimes it looks a little… unpleasant.” The Warden chuckled again. “Now, don’t you see how this is funny? How everyone’s fretting is ridiculous?”

            When Nikko hurried back over to the futon, he held two bottles of ointment, and a long knife.

            I held up a hand. “Wait!”

            “What is it, my lord?” he asked as he knelt.

            I pulled Yuna close. “We don’t need to worry. I gave Yuna some… of my Ring Warlock magic… and this is a side effect.”

            She clung to me and whispered, “It is?”

            “Yes. I apologize for not warning you properly, but this is all part of my plan. Your eyes will be restored once the, uh, scab has healed.”

            I didn’t know what else to call it.

            “You can heal eyes?” Nikko asked, breathless.

            I replied with a nod and continued to hold Yuna. She trembled, but it wasn’t for long. Perhaps she trusted me to tell the truth, because soon she was much calmer.

            “I see.” Nikko ran a hand through his shiny black hair. “Then you should know that your historian also had an odd growth. The man refused to show it to me, but he came for ointments to dull pain.”

            “Ketsu?” I asked.

            “Yes.”

            He had a growth?

            Ah. The answer immediately came to me. What else would a eunuch grow? And it made sense why he wouldn’t necessarily want another to see. I imagined it was both horrific and embarrassing. A terrible combination.

            “I will check up on him,” I said. Then I squeezed Yuna’s hand. “Stay here with Nikko-rah. I will visit you later.”

            Yuna forced a small smile. “Y-Yes. Thank you so much, Rimon-nox. Truly.” She bowed her head, allowing her hair to fall over the scab that covered most of her face.

            With the crisis dealt with, fatigue settled over me.

            The Warden laughed again as I headed for the door. “If only you had seen everything from the outside,” he mused. “You would’ve understood why I laughed.”

*六つの言葉*

            I awoke as the two suns were entering the sky. My heart raced, as I had been in the middle of a strange dream. Axraksii was slumbering, and I was in the darkness with him, listening to his breaths.

            I sat up in my bed, surrounded by the softest silk I had ever felt against my skin, yet I was covered in sweat. With the back of my arm, I wiped away my anxiety.

            “Warden,” I whispered.

            “Yes?” he replied.

            “When I sleep, I absorb the life essence of creatures into me, correct?”

            “Yes.” The Warden spoke the word with a smile in his tone.

            After a long exhale, I rested back on the pillows. “Axraksii is sleeping… Is it because he’s absorbing something?”

            “Oh, yes. Definitely.”

            “Something so powerful, it requires years to absorb?”

            But the Warden didn’t answer that question. He was utterly silent, which was a rare occurrence. I assumed, from his lack of an immediately answer, that I was correct at some level. Why hide the information from me? It seemed odd.

            It also didn’t matter. Axraksii wasn’t here with us. He was deep beneath the ground, coiled in the darkness, dreaming of…

            I closed my eyes and focused, but I couldn’t remember what he was dreaming about it. The images were at the edge of my thoughts, just out of reach. I supposed it also didn’t matter. If it had been significant, I would’ve remembered.

            Today was the festival for my ascension.

            Once I took a deep breath, I leapt from my bed, my new strength evident. My body felt loose, my steps powerful. When I swung my arm around to stretch, it felt as though my muscles quivered with anticipation.

            “This is amazing,” I muttered.

            I had to test my new strength on something.

            Whirling on my heel, I turned to face my bed. I grabbed the wooden frame with one hand and lifted, my body bracing for what I assumed would still be a slight struggle to hoist upward.

            I had been wrong.

            With my hand gripped tightly on the frame, I lifted and nearly toppled the bed over on its side. The entire piece of furniture came up, and my fingers nearly splintered into the wood from the intensity of my grip.

            With a chuckle, I relaxed and then set the bed back down.

            All my pillows were scattered across the floor. I gathered them up and threw them back onto the bed, amazed at how even small movements of my body felt strange. Everything seemed lightweight.

            Hand-sized spiders skittered across the ceiling, several of them rubbing their front legs together.

            “I’m hurrying,” I said to them. “Just a moment.”

            I grabbed an ornate outfit that seemed fitting for the festival. The robes were made of green silk, and I had the finest leather belt to hold them shut, complete with a gold and silver clasp. The intricate metalwork of the clasp was what signified this was an outfit for a man of importance—the small detailing made the clasp appear to be a dragon wrapped around the belt, its curved into the hook that held things shut.

            Many girls at the Red Lantern said it was easy to tell who was wealthy and who wasn’t. The people who wore clothing of the highest quality, which embroidered designs that incorporated fine metal works, were always in higher social positions than those who didn’t.

            Once I had donned my bracers and combed back my hair, I made certain that my ring was visible. The black band around my right thumb shone, even in the dim lighting of my room. Everyone would want to see it, that much I was certain.

            Prepared to face the crowds, I stepped out of my room and headed for the festivities in the castle garden below.