They walked in silence the rest of the time. The only sound came from the battle arena, where they could hear the audience cheered and the fighters clashed against each other. Based on the noise level, they were probably on the same floor as the fighting ground. “We’re almost there,” Shintra announced as they passed through a metal gate leading to the arena.
Alethea looked at him incredulously. “You’re forcing me to fight?”
“Of course not!” he said, shaking his head. “Unless you want to participate; I can easily arrange it. There’s something else I want to show you.”
A part of her wanted to ask him what it was, but she stopped herself. Something told her that she wasn’t going to like it. Instead, she asked, “What do you mean back there?”
“What do you mean?” he wondered, confused.
“When you said that I need you,” she replied. “I don’t see how that could possibly be true.”
“Oh, that.” He nodded as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Think about it. At this very moment, you’re surrounded by several Dalenthi; some of whom wishes nothing but harm toward you. The only reason they don’t dare do anything is me. They know that I control their fates so they don’t want to risk it. Without me, there is no one strong enough to keep them in check.”
“You’re delusional! I can easily defend myself,” she snorted.
“And how did it turn out when you found yourself incapacitated by Engum and his supporters?” He smirked at her. “I thought so. That’s why you need me around. If anything happens to me, then there is no one else to save you.”
“That still doesn’t mean that I need you!” she argued. “Why should I trust you anyway? At least I know that I can depend on the others!”
He chortled, “Why? Have they ever do anything for you in return? Not once did I see them do things for you! Besides, why should you be their hand maid without expecting anything in return?”
She vehemently shook her head. “So what? I don’t do anything in hope of getting rewarded!”
“Why not? Why shouldn’t you be rewarded for your actions?” he countered. “You’re too noble for your own good if you ask me. Always doing things for others. Why should you do something for yourself for a change?”
The Aerian cringed. She hated to admit it, but the Duermon was right – never once did she do something for herself. It was always for Kejuta and the other Ilmarians. Nevertheless, she stared defiantly at the Ilmarian of Souls. “It’s because I’m not an opportunistic like you!”
“I rather see it as getting what I deserve,” he replied dryly. He flipped his long hair flippantly. “And at least, I’m being true to myself – unlike you.”
“Excuse me?”
“You know exactly what I mean, my dear,” Shintra said, walking up to her that they barely touch. “You suppressed everything: your thoughts, your emotions, your desires – everything! Not once did I ever hear you tell anyone what you want! It’s as if you’re afraid that people will disapprove if you decide to be selfish.”
The Ilmarian of Truth gave him a level stare. “You don’t know anything about me so don’t you dare try to preach me.”
“Believe me. I know more things about you than you do,” he taunted. “But don’t you worry. I’ll fix that problem of yours, and you’ll thank me for it. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Over my dead body,” she growled. He just chuckled as he turned to walk away. Grumbling under her breath, she had little choice but to follow him into the darkened tunnel.
Before long, they arrived in a dimly-lit room. “Ah, we’re here!” Shintra proclaimed, extending his arms to the air as he walked toward the middle of the room.
Wrapping her arms, Alethea glanced around the room. The surrounding walls each have three large prison cells. Based on the rumbling above them, they must be below the coliseum. “Where are we?” she wondered.
Instead of answering, the Duermon just kept on walking toward one of the cells. “Have you ever wondered what happens to the losers after they lost their match in the coliseum?” He opened the door and lit up the lantern in the cell, revealing Engu chained to the wall. “Well, this is where they go.”
Alethea’s mouth dropped. “What did you do to him!?” she gasped. She could barely recognize the Dalenthi. His face was bloodied, and it looked like he lost an eye. Gashes of various sizes were all over his body. Low moans came out of his mouth.
“Hmph. I did nothing to him,” the Ilmarian of Souls rebuked. “After I found out what he did to you, I forced him and his fellow conspirators to fight to the death in the arena. It seems that his so-called ‘friends’ rather have him died than them. Oh, and you’re welcome.”
“But I never wanted him to suffer like this!” the Aerian protested.
Shintra kissed his tongue. “Why should you care? He didn’t care about hurting you. You’re too kind-hearted to your enemies sometimes; that’s another thing that I need to readjust for you, but I’ll deal with that later. Right now, there’s something I have to do first.”
Strolling over to the Dalenthi, he greeted, “Hello, Engum. I hope you’ve learned your lesson.”
Engum slowly turned his head and looked at the Ilmarian of Souls. “Fuck you,” he spat.
“Is that how you greet your leader? But I’m going to ignore it for now because I’m here to make you an offer.”
“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”
“As you probably figure out, you’re dying. However, I can fix that for you, but only in one condition – are you willing to serve me faithfully again?” Shintra offered.
The Dalenthi didn’t answer as he thought for a moment. Finally, he declared, “I rather go to hell than be one of your lapdogs again.”
“I see,” Shintra said, nodding his head. He slowly raised his hand; Engum wheezed as his eyes began to glow. “If that’s the case, then…” With any warning, he cupped his hand into a fist. When he did that, Engum’s body jerked up before it slumped down – dead. “…I’ll gladly send you straight there.”
Alethea screamed. Her mind could barely comprehend what just happened. One moment, Engum was alive; the next, he’s dead. A horrible thought then dawned on her. He killed him by crushing his soul. Would I be next?
So terrified was she that she didn’t notice Shintra was standing in front of her until he grabbed her arms, which stunned her into silence. “You can stop screaming now. You’re scaring the other disloyal followers when you do that,” he scolded. “Now then, was that traumatizing to you?”
“You killed him,” she could barely whisper.
He shrugged. “So what if I did? He refused my generous offer so the best thing I could do was give him a swift and painless death.”
“By crushing his soul!?” she retorted.
“And? Less risk of having anyone betraying me to Kejuta.” He suddenly grinned. “How else do you think I was able to evade getting caught?”
Her eyes widened at the realization. “Wait, you’re saying that you-”
“Personally kill anyone who risks exposing me? Yes,” he finished. “As a matter of fact, every Dalenthi now has a spell incorporated in their soul so if they get killed, their souls will explode. That way, they won’t be able to enter Valendor, and then Pendance won’t be able to access their memories to alert his mother dearest. It took a while, but I finally perfected it.”
The Ilmarian of Truth glared at him. “You’re a monster!”
Shintra chuckled. “You think so, hm?” He cupped his hand, and Alethea felt a slight tingle. “I wonder what would happen if I crush your soul? So fragile, so delicate.”
“Don’t,” she gulped.
He placed his hand down and smiled as he caressed her hair. “I was teasing you. Now then, since you’re uncomfortable here, let’s move to another cell. Shall we?”
Before she could even blink, she felt his arm wrapped around her waist as he led her away. As they exited the cell, she glanced back one last time. The image of Engum’s bloodied corpse hanging on the wall was engraved in her mind.
They entered the next cell, which was thankfully empty. “Let’s stay here until you calm down,” Shintra suggested as he sat down on a bench.
“Am I going to stay here for the rest of my duration as your prisoner?” she snorted.
The Duermon gave her an amused smile. “You’re not my prisoner, Ressi. You’re my subordinate. Remember? And to answer your question, you’re going to stay here for a little bit.”
“First of all, my name isn’t Ressi; it’s Alethea. Second, I don’t recall ever agreeing to work with you, and third, what do you think you’ll accomplish by having me stay here? That I’ll beg you to bring me back to my gilded prison?” she said, crossing her arms.
Shintra slapped his knees and laughed. “And you claim that I’m delusional. As the Ilmarian of Truth, you’re not being true to yourself. Why do you keep denying the truth even though it’s right in front of you?”
Alethea fumed as she glared at him. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction by answering his stupid question! She knows that he was just trying to aggravate her. Shintra must have thought he had stumped her because he gave her a smug look, which gave the sudden urge to punch him in the face.
Just then, they heard thundering footsteps heading their way. Both of them glanced at the door as two strong Ruschabels brought in another victim of the battle arena. Unlike Engum, this one wasn’t as severely injured. Nevertheless, he was mortally wounded; a stab wound was on the left side of his body. “My lord, we brought in an injured Dalenthi like you asked,” one of them said, bowing his head.
“Thank you. You may leave now,” Shinra replied, dismissing them with his hands. They bowed before they took their leave.
As Shintra stood up and walked over to the injured man, Alethea asked, “Are you going to kill him like you did to Engum?”
“Not yet. It depends on his answer.” Kneeling down, he informed the Dalenthi, “You’re dying. However, I can fix that for you in one condition: are you willing to serve me with another purpose?”
The possessed man looked at him. “I’ll do anything,” he replied.
Shintra nodded, satisfied. “Good choice. Here is what I need for you to do.” The Ilmarian of Souls pulled out a knife and slit the palm of his hand. Pressing down on his injured hand so a gush of blood came out, he tipped his hand and ordered, “Drink this.”
“What are you doing!?” an alarmed Alethea demanded. “Don’t you remember how the Shuryvals are a threat to us?”
She attempted to rush over to stop this madness, but Shintra pointed at her with his free hand. “Stay where you are,” he commanded, and she felt her body abruptly stopped. “I won’t have you interfered with this process. Argus, make sure she’s compliant.”
“Yes, my lord,” she heard the Parasitic Duermon said. Alethea could only watch helplessly as the Dalenthi drank Shintra’s blood like he was dying of thirst. After a few minutes, the possessed man collapsed on the ground while Shintra grabbed his handkerchief and cleaned up his bloodied hand.
Walking over to Alethea, he simply said, “And now we wait.”
Alethea looked at him incredulously. “You’re forcing me to fight?”
“Of course not!” he said, shaking his head. “Unless you want to participate; I can easily arrange it. There’s something else I want to show you.”
A part of her wanted to ask him what it was, but she stopped herself. Something told her that she wasn’t going to like it. Instead, she asked, “What do you mean back there?”
“What do you mean?” he wondered, confused.
“When you said that I need you,” she replied. “I don’t see how that could possibly be true.”
“Oh, that.” He nodded as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Think about it. At this very moment, you’re surrounded by several Dalenthi; some of whom wishes nothing but harm toward you. The only reason they don’t dare do anything is me. They know that I control their fates so they don’t want to risk it. Without me, there is no one strong enough to keep them in check.”
“You’re delusional! I can easily defend myself,” she snorted.
“And how did it turn out when you found yourself incapacitated by Engum and his supporters?” He smirked at her. “I thought so. That’s why you need me around. If anything happens to me, then there is no one else to save you.”
“That still doesn’t mean that I need you!” she argued. “Why should I trust you anyway? At least I know that I can depend on the others!”
He chortled, “Why? Have they ever do anything for you in return? Not once did I see them do things for you! Besides, why should you be their hand maid without expecting anything in return?”
She vehemently shook her head. “So what? I don’t do anything in hope of getting rewarded!”
“Why not? Why shouldn’t you be rewarded for your actions?” he countered. “You’re too noble for your own good if you ask me. Always doing things for others. Why should you do something for yourself for a change?”
The Aerian cringed. She hated to admit it, but the Duermon was right – never once did she do something for herself. It was always for Kejuta and the other Ilmarians. Nevertheless, she stared defiantly at the Ilmarian of Souls. “It’s because I’m not an opportunistic like you!”
“I rather see it as getting what I deserve,” he replied dryly. He flipped his long hair flippantly. “And at least, I’m being true to myself – unlike you.”
“Excuse me?”
“You know exactly what I mean, my dear,” Shintra said, walking up to her that they barely touch. “You suppressed everything: your thoughts, your emotions, your desires – everything! Not once did I ever hear you tell anyone what you want! It’s as if you’re afraid that people will disapprove if you decide to be selfish.”
The Ilmarian of Truth gave him a level stare. “You don’t know anything about me so don’t you dare try to preach me.”
“Believe me. I know more things about you than you do,” he taunted. “But don’t you worry. I’ll fix that problem of yours, and you’ll thank me for it. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Over my dead body,” she growled. He just chuckled as he turned to walk away. Grumbling under her breath, she had little choice but to follow him into the darkened tunnel.
Before long, they arrived in a dimly-lit room. “Ah, we’re here!” Shintra proclaimed, extending his arms to the air as he walked toward the middle of the room.
Wrapping her arms, Alethea glanced around the room. The surrounding walls each have three large prison cells. Based on the rumbling above them, they must be below the coliseum. “Where are we?” she wondered.
Instead of answering, the Duermon just kept on walking toward one of the cells. “Have you ever wondered what happens to the losers after they lost their match in the coliseum?” He opened the door and lit up the lantern in the cell, revealing Engu chained to the wall. “Well, this is where they go.”
Alethea’s mouth dropped. “What did you do to him!?” she gasped. She could barely recognize the Dalenthi. His face was bloodied, and it looked like he lost an eye. Gashes of various sizes were all over his body. Low moans came out of his mouth.
“Hmph. I did nothing to him,” the Ilmarian of Souls rebuked. “After I found out what he did to you, I forced him and his fellow conspirators to fight to the death in the arena. It seems that his so-called ‘friends’ rather have him died than them. Oh, and you’re welcome.”
“But I never wanted him to suffer like this!” the Aerian protested.
Shintra kissed his tongue. “Why should you care? He didn’t care about hurting you. You’re too kind-hearted to your enemies sometimes; that’s another thing that I need to readjust for you, but I’ll deal with that later. Right now, there’s something I have to do first.”
Strolling over to the Dalenthi, he greeted, “Hello, Engum. I hope you’ve learned your lesson.”
Engum slowly turned his head and looked at the Ilmarian of Souls. “Fuck you,” he spat.
“Is that how you greet your leader? But I’m going to ignore it for now because I’m here to make you an offer.”
“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”
“As you probably figure out, you’re dying. However, I can fix that for you, but only in one condition – are you willing to serve me faithfully again?” Shintra offered.
The Dalenthi didn’t answer as he thought for a moment. Finally, he declared, “I rather go to hell than be one of your lapdogs again.”
“I see,” Shintra said, nodding his head. He slowly raised his hand; Engum wheezed as his eyes began to glow. “If that’s the case, then…” With any warning, he cupped his hand into a fist. When he did that, Engum’s body jerked up before it slumped down – dead. “…I’ll gladly send you straight there.”
Alethea screamed. Her mind could barely comprehend what just happened. One moment, Engum was alive; the next, he’s dead. A horrible thought then dawned on her. He killed him by crushing his soul. Would I be next?
So terrified was she that she didn’t notice Shintra was standing in front of her until he grabbed her arms, which stunned her into silence. “You can stop screaming now. You’re scaring the other disloyal followers when you do that,” he scolded. “Now then, was that traumatizing to you?”
“You killed him,” she could barely whisper.
He shrugged. “So what if I did? He refused my generous offer so the best thing I could do was give him a swift and painless death.”
“By crushing his soul!?” she retorted.
“And? Less risk of having anyone betraying me to Kejuta.” He suddenly grinned. “How else do you think I was able to evade getting caught?”
Her eyes widened at the realization. “Wait, you’re saying that you-”
“Personally kill anyone who risks exposing me? Yes,” he finished. “As a matter of fact, every Dalenthi now has a spell incorporated in their soul so if they get killed, their souls will explode. That way, they won’t be able to enter Valendor, and then Pendance won’t be able to access their memories to alert his mother dearest. It took a while, but I finally perfected it.”
The Ilmarian of Truth glared at him. “You’re a monster!”
Shintra chuckled. “You think so, hm?” He cupped his hand, and Alethea felt a slight tingle. “I wonder what would happen if I crush your soul? So fragile, so delicate.”
“Don’t,” she gulped.
He placed his hand down and smiled as he caressed her hair. “I was teasing you. Now then, since you’re uncomfortable here, let’s move to another cell. Shall we?”
Before she could even blink, she felt his arm wrapped around her waist as he led her away. As they exited the cell, she glanced back one last time. The image of Engum’s bloodied corpse hanging on the wall was engraved in her mind.
They entered the next cell, which was thankfully empty. “Let’s stay here until you calm down,” Shintra suggested as he sat down on a bench.
“Am I going to stay here for the rest of my duration as your prisoner?” she snorted.
The Duermon gave her an amused smile. “You’re not my prisoner, Ressi. You’re my subordinate. Remember? And to answer your question, you’re going to stay here for a little bit.”
“First of all, my name isn’t Ressi; it’s Alethea. Second, I don’t recall ever agreeing to work with you, and third, what do you think you’ll accomplish by having me stay here? That I’ll beg you to bring me back to my gilded prison?” she said, crossing her arms.
Shintra slapped his knees and laughed. “And you claim that I’m delusional. As the Ilmarian of Truth, you’re not being true to yourself. Why do you keep denying the truth even though it’s right in front of you?”
Alethea fumed as she glared at him. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction by answering his stupid question! She knows that he was just trying to aggravate her. Shintra must have thought he had stumped her because he gave her a smug look, which gave the sudden urge to punch him in the face.
Just then, they heard thundering footsteps heading their way. Both of them glanced at the door as two strong Ruschabels brought in another victim of the battle arena. Unlike Engum, this one wasn’t as severely injured. Nevertheless, he was mortally wounded; a stab wound was on the left side of his body. “My lord, we brought in an injured Dalenthi like you asked,” one of them said, bowing his head.
“Thank you. You may leave now,” Shinra replied, dismissing them with his hands. They bowed before they took their leave.
As Shintra stood up and walked over to the injured man, Alethea asked, “Are you going to kill him like you did to Engum?”
“Not yet. It depends on his answer.” Kneeling down, he informed the Dalenthi, “You’re dying. However, I can fix that for you in one condition: are you willing to serve me with another purpose?”
The possessed man looked at him. “I’ll do anything,” he replied.
Shintra nodded, satisfied. “Good choice. Here is what I need for you to do.” The Ilmarian of Souls pulled out a knife and slit the palm of his hand. Pressing down on his injured hand so a gush of blood came out, he tipped his hand and ordered, “Drink this.”
“What are you doing!?” an alarmed Alethea demanded. “Don’t you remember how the Shuryvals are a threat to us?”
She attempted to rush over to stop this madness, but Shintra pointed at her with his free hand. “Stay where you are,” he commanded, and she felt her body abruptly stopped. “I won’t have you interfered with this process. Argus, make sure she’s compliant.”
“Yes, my lord,” she heard the Parasitic Duermon said. Alethea could only watch helplessly as the Dalenthi drank Shintra’s blood like he was dying of thirst. After a few minutes, the possessed man collapsed on the ground while Shintra grabbed his handkerchief and cleaned up his bloodied hand.
Walking over to Alethea, he simply said, “And now we wait.”