Chapter 138: A Red Dawn.

Nero stood amidst the carnage, his chest heaving.

Then he dropped to his knees and glanced down ah his own hands.

Amidst the chaos and the blood, he had lost himself for a moment.

But finally…

The battle was over.

His arms hung at his sides as he tried to calm his breath, the Silver Blade still gripped in his right hand, its edge dripping with blood that had long since coagulated and cooled.

His entire body was covered in blood.

The scent of the blood was repulsive and terrible.

Around him, the field stretched out like a portrait of hell itself.

There were bodies everywhere. Grotesque and miserable bodies alike.

Piled upon one another in damning heaps, scattered across the mud in twisted configurations that was beyond linguistic description.

The creatures lay broken and torn, their black flesh split open to reveal steaming entrails. And among them, the refugees— men, women, children, it didn’t matter. All the faces of the dead were frozen in eternal expressions of terror and agony.

The morning mist clung to everything, making the scene feel dreamlike and unreal.

Like dwelling within a nightmare.

But the smell— that horrid, wretched stench, was real enough for him to know it was not.

Copper and rot mixed in with the rancor of excrement and fear, all fused together into a miasma that hung thick with the morning fog.

Nero turned slowly, taking it all in.

The survivors moved like wraiths through the fog,

Distant and close cries rang through in all directions, filling the dreary atmosphere with even more bleakness.

The movements of the living was sluggish. Every single one of them bore wounds— not necessary on their bodies, but more so on their souls.

It was a terrible thing to witness…

A woman sat cradling something in her arms. As Nero’s gaze passed over her, he realized it was a tiny blob of bloody goo and bones, something that had most likely once been a child.

Nero quickly tore his gaze away.

However, his eyes quickly met that of a corpse’s— a man with his eyes wide open and grey, staring right at him as though blaming him for living while he was dead.

Nero tore his eyes away as his breathing sped up.

Two children huddled together near a heap of steaming bodies, their faces streaked with tears and blood that might not have been their own.

These sensations were new and yet rather nostalgic.

He had once seen devastation of this scale before— years ago in Gor, and then just a little over a month ago.

And yet, this was a bit different.

This was wholesale slaughter. Thousands dead in just a single night. The field had been transformed into an open grave, with the living being those who had yet to fall in.

His stomach lurched.

He stumbled forward a few steps, his legs nearly giving out. The Silver Blade slipped from his fingers, landing in the mud with a wet sound.

Then he doubled over and retched.

Nothing came up at first, just dry heaves that wracked his body. Then bile, burning and bitter. He vomited until there was nothing left, until his throat ached and his eyes were watering.

When it finally stopped, he remained bent over, hands on his knees, gasping for air.

The world spun around him. He squeezed his eyes shut.

Footsteps approached through the mud, heavy and purposeful.

Nero straightened slowly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His vision swam for a moment before focusing as he opened his eyes.

During the battle, he had somehow gotten separated from Obed, Aisha and the others.

When his vision fully came to the focus, his eyes widened in surprise.

Before him stood five Templars of the Crimson Crucible, their stunning red armor splattered with blood and dented from the night’s combat. They formed a loose semicircle around him, their helmets revealing nothing of their intentions.

The one in the center spoke, his voice flat and metallic. “Come with us.”

Fear immediately gripped Nero’s heart.

’Did I reveal anything?! Someone must have noticed me last night. Crap! I was careless!’

Nero grit his teeth as he slowly rose to his feet, the Silver Blade firmly in his grip.

For a moment, there was just silence.

Nero felt his mind spin out of control as he tried to figure out what to do. Should he fight? Or should he run?

Or should he simply just go along?

For all he knew, his secrets were still safe. But if that was the case, then why was he being summoned?

“Wait!” Aisha’s voice cut through the fog.

Nero turned his head to see a body cut through the fog and latch onto his arm.

“Nero!”

Despite the fog, Nero could see Aisha’s teary face as she looked up at him and then at the array of large Templars before them.

She grit her teeth.

A moment later, he could feel the presence of a few others approaching them from the fog.

It was Lucy, Geor and Obed.

However, unlike Aisha, they didn’t seem too keen on approaching him just yet. Still, he could tell from their postures that they were quite concerned.

His tense nerves quickly eased up.

The fog shifted as a portion of the survivors noticed the Templars and began to approach.

Seeing this, the lead Templar turned to Nero and spoke, this time his voice much more urging,

“Hurry up.”

Nero huffed.

He turned to Aisha and gave her a reassuring smile,

“I’ll be gone only for a little while.”

Then he pulled his arm away and began walking towards the Templars.

Lucy called out to him,

“Nero.”

Nero turned around and glanced at her.

Her lips were pursed and her eyes seemed to want to say something, but was hesitant.

Eventually, she sighed and shook her head.

Seeing this, Nero quietly turned back around and continued forward until he stood before the lead Templar.

“I’m ready,” he said.

The Templar nodded once, then turned and began walking. The other four fell into formation around Nero; two in front and two behind, creating an escort that was impossible to escape.

Nero walked with them, his posture neutral and his face carefully blank, making his thoughts impossible to read.

Behind him, he could feel the eyes of many burning into his back as whispers rose amongst the growing crowd.

But he didn’t look back.

They moved through the field of corpses, stepping over bodies and around pools of congealed blood.

The Templar camp loomed ahead, its tents dark against the grey morning.

As they approached, Nero could see more and more Templars. Most of them were heading out into the field, carrying strange items with them he had never seen before, most of them passing him by as though he didn’t exist.

The lead Templar brought them to the central tent. He held the flap open and gestured inside.

Nero stepped through without hesitation.

The interior was dim compared to the scattered morning light outside. The large table was still there in the center. However, the large map was now gone. In its place, however, the table was covered in numerous maps and markers.

Inside the tent, there were only two figures.

The Templar with the golden star on his chest piece. And the man in white robes, his face still hidden behind the cloth mask.

Both turned as Nero entered.

The Commander’s helmet tilted slightly, studying him in silence.

The man in white remained perfectly still, though Nero could feel those hidden eyes assessing him with uncomfortable intensity.

The flap fell closed behind him, cutting off the outside world.

Nero stood there, covered in blood and mud and the remnants of his own vomit, facing two of the most powerful humans he had ever seen.

His face remained blank, not because he was trying to hide something, but because he was too stumped to think of anything.

His mind was in turmoil and blank at the same time!

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