The melody, as tranquil as a sound could be, calmed him. It sank the burgeoning emotions and impulses to the depths of his soul. His body began to dance, a slight shift in his muscles that remained near-imperceptible.
It had been months since he last played. As such, he fell into the elevating notes of the instrument, his mind forgetting all the guilt and his body losing all its pain.
But just as he finished the first piece, a voice rang out from behind him, emerging from a slim figure peeking around a corner, “Dante?”
Standing from his seat, the man sighed, but the woman shook her head and apologized, “No, no! Nothing is wrong. Keep playing. It sounds nice. Please.”
- The scene in an expensive hotel.
Claudius kneeled before a wasteland of drowned ocean. As far as his eyes could see, there was water, the Hydro born from his Praetor’s Tide. The cliff before him crumbled beneath his bloodied eyes, and all he could do was cry.
There was no body to bury. No sign of the killer, either. He had already escaped. All the proof they had of Elize Sunwin was that her bio-signature showed negatives.
She would be labeled MIA, and Rome would move on with one less Praetor in its Congress. One of the galaxy's strongest had fallen like that without any hint of justice. Some would cheer. Some would grieve. Claudius wasn’t sure what to do anymore.
Rasa stood beside the Judge, having already told him about Joseph. Claudius’ mind put two-and-two together and realized the man worked alongside Friday. Meaning they had succeeded.
The Centurion opened his mouth, seeking to console the man he saw as a brother, “This isn’t your fault. You and your Jury got an Inheritance. You stopped the Dirge from getting any, and that weird man. We lost a Praetor, but...”
“Shut up. I know you’re not thinking that. Not really. Eight? Did you eat the fruit yet?” Claudius interrupted Rasa and called toward his Anomaly. Behind him, Eight seethed as he stared at the fruit.
With a shake of his head, he replied, “Not yet. I still want to find that bastard. Do you really want me to eat it? I figured you or Rosa would take it. Not much time before it's confiscated by the Praetors.”
Rasa and Claudius shared a look. Eight was right. The second Aurora landed from orbit, she would pilfer the Inheritance and give them contributions in return. In that mere glance, they both agreed.
“Eat it. We’ll just lie. Say that you ate it to survive or something. We fought too hard for that damn thing. It’ll be up to you to counter Lucius if we ever see them again. Plus... illusions and teleportation? I think you could make that quite a terrifying combination, Mr. Anomaly,” Claudius, after all that had happened and with his MIA Praetor, broke the rules, going beyond simply bending them.
Eight shrugged before devouring the Fruit O’ Mirror without hesitation. Talander looked on while sharpening his swords, and Yue oiled her guns. Rosa was the only one who held any hint of jealousy or frustration.
After all, she would be the sole member of the Jury to not receive a reward from this mission. Talander would train beneath Oswen’s blade, Yue would receive two powerful weapons, and Claudius would get his name cleared. She just had to watch Eight munch on his prize.
Her? Praetor Sun had promised to train her. Now...
That was no longer possible. But she wouldn't complain. Her fruits would bloom later. Of that, Rosa was sure.
Rasa spoke up through Eight’s frenzied eating with a promise and a plan, “If I’m not immediately sent somewhere else, I’ll stay with you guys. I would recommend you take the Centurion’s Exam, Claudius. You four should take the Judge’s Exam. Both require recommendations by five of that rank. Pulling some strings to get you guys in won't be difficult.”
He paused for a second as a burning fire emerged in the sky. It was Aurora descending. Quickly, he finished his words, “With Claudius as a Centurion, you guys will have a little more freedom. I might even be able to stay if we use some of Praetor Sun’s remaining connections. Now. Be respectful.”
The moment he finished talking, a flaming figure landed half a dozen feet away. It was a woman constructed entirely out of blaze. An Irfret, one of the rarest races in the galaxy, though that rarity was not due to weakness or ostracization.
Irfrets were simply rare, as it took one a century to gestate. Such kept their numbers low, but their nature ensured they were powerful. Even the weakest Irfret held the qualifications of a Judge. An army of these beings would be unstoppable, but even the best estimate placed their population in the hundreds.
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
Praetor Aurora stared down at the Jury and the Centurion seated with them. She sighed with her conflagration lessening to a dull heat as she looked out over the sea, “Such a shame. Always looked up to Elize. I would've come earlier if I knew she was out here for an MD. Centurion. Give me the report.”
Rasa stood up to speak, detailing the entirety of the battle on this planet. He explained Sunwin allying with the Dirge to find Joseph, the Lightning Wraith, and Praetor Sun’s eventual use of her Absolute Limit. He did not go into the minutiae of its effect and instead focused on the Inferose.
He lied directly to the Praetor’s face, risking his life, as he said how Eight had taken the Fruit O’ Mirror within the Inferose. The Centurion paused as he finished his false words, ending with Praetor Sun’s disappearance.
Aurora nodded, not calling him out on anything. Then, she glanced to Judge Vermillion, “I’ve received intel that Oswen spotted more MDs near the Great Darkness. At least one of the same caliber as the Inferose. Would you and your team be interested? It’ll be a while before an expedition is planned, but I promise it will be far more organized.”
Claudius’ eyes sank in thought, and the Praetor picked up on his emotions. She continued, “Rome did value Elize. We didn’t just leave her to die. Most of us thought she’d be fine. After all, the only ones who could kill her could be counted on two hands, and they were accounted for. At least... that’s what we thought. I am sorry, Claudius.”
The Judge said nothing but returned a nod. With that, Aurora stepped away.
“Very well. Let me know if you are interested. You have the most experience with these things besides Legate Nandum,” her words bounced around the gathering of figures until they sparked frustration in Claudius.
He had failed. And now, she thought he was the reason they had succeeded? Or that he was the most suitable to attack these things? His honor couldn’t allow him to take that prize.
With a cough, he raised his voice, “You’re wrong, Praetor. We cheated our way through, overly reliant on Anomaly 888’s abilities. The only person to actually... pass the Inferose’s trials was Dante Penance and his crew.”
Aurora halted, the flames on her feet building from an expulsion of Thermo. Her eyes narrowed as she nodded, memorizing the name that she had already heard, “Right. The human. Oswen is chasing down that lead. I’m afraid we can’t use him. Too unpredictable. If he grows any stronger... We might have another Romulus on our hands.”
Eyes widened at the mention of The Man Who Stole The World. Anomaly 654 was infamous for his skills and ability to escape from all known governments. He had even fought Legate Reichter back when he was alive and escaped scot-free.
If Aurora and the other Praetors had set Dante Penance at such a risk level, then...
They won’t just send Oswen. He’ll get back-up. Probably another Praetor or two. Maybe even the other empires will join in with Lucius’ and Joan’s aptitude. Damn. Dante is so fucking dead. But...
Claudius’ mind, even knowing the forces soon to be after the human, couldn’t bring himself to consider Dante dead. Twice.
Twice had the man thrived where he should have otherwise been condemned to hell. He had survived worse odds. A few Praetors? Dante was nearing the stage where he could handle their hunts.
The Judge said nothing else as Aurora departed, hurtling into the sky with the flowing steam beneath her.
Once she had left, Claudius turned to Rasa with a proposition, “They’re gonna get Designations now. Dante, Lucius, and Joan will probably get Anomaly ratings. Sonna, Rejo, and Archimedes won’t. Yet. They might even look back at us. Keep Eight out of the investigations if you can. We don't want any more eyes on us.”
The Centurion agreed with Claudius’ foresight, and they all sighed as they looked up into the sky.
Their ship had been stolen. The thievery only added to their frustration and sense of loss. But none of them despaired.
Rasa immediately started to make some calls, asking to be picked up from Praetor Sun’s Nova. The ship had a lone remaining Centurion who hastily sent a starship to grab them all. Then, with Claudius’ go-ahead, he gathered his colleagues for the recommendations.
Without the knowledge of Sunwin’s passing, it was easy. In just an hour, Claudius had obtained all the qualifications to take the Centurion’s Exam. Now, all he had to do was return to Rome.
Judges could be initiated outside the capital, but Centurions only had that privilege during significant wars and battles. So, they could only wait. And rest.
Surely, they would get a new ship. After all, they had slain an Anathema. Hana, the Gunwale. Oh, and Zed. Who cared if they were actually the ones to land the killing blow?
The higher-ups didn’t need to know that, and the Jury was far past being honest to their bones. They had nearly died too many times and seen far too much to be so naive.
************************
A bloodied, disfigured man shambled across a desert, dragging an even more ruined body behind it with his remaining arm. All one could tell is that it was female. Crimson trailed behind them like a mark of history, of existence.
Ahead of the man crawled another man. This one bore wounds far beyond what should be livable by any typical creature, with burns that covered his entire form. His own flame, his own explosion, had scorched his flesh. But this one was special. His azure blood, forged by ancient minds and primordial forces, refused to cease its boil, learning from the heat.
With a grunt of pain, Joseph kneeled beside his sole subordinate. Within their ranks, secrecy was paramount. Now that his survival was revealed, he would have to change his name and his face and fade into obscurity.
He extended his right arm, much of its weight removed by radiant burns or slicing sanguine floods. The fingertips landed upon the younger man, an absolute genius in his eyes.
They were Nectos, unique, and forced to walk their own paths. Joseph could never truly be his mentor. Not in the way Sunwin was for her subordinates, at least.
All Joseph Cross could do was guide, not teach.
“Water. O’ Water. Beautiful, glorious water. Every day you have studied it. Just as I. It completes you. Its majesty is unfathomable, workings endless. How could anyone prevent you from its practice? To hold you from your peak?” Joseph spoke silently amongst the desert, holding his student with care.
Then, his voice grew in power, as his memories burst with the sound of thunder just as his student’s ignited with a low-lit flame, “No others can appreciate its beauty. It’s... so enchanting. Others call themselves masters, farers of the ‘Sea, yet they are not nearly as gifted. Not as us. We... my boy. We are its lovers, breathing its waters from birth. Its chosen. Others speak words and are ignored, yet we...”
Joseph’s tone trailed off as the sky above vibrated with the magnitude of the Lightning Wraith. Heavens recoiled, and space surrendered beneath the man who had come so very close to death that day. And when his words returned, they held an otherworldy gleam, a power that tore open space and time.
“Tide Reversal: Pursuit Of Truth.“
A small rowboat manifested in the air, shattering the sky and revealing the Lightsea’s internals. Joseph’s short, infatuated laugh entered the sky as he pulled up his student and strode toward the rift. He had done the impossible. He had reached the next step by risking his life for the Inferose.
It was not the final. Still, he felt his feet fall inches from the Shattered Peak.
“She completes us, and we complete her. Trust in the water. Believe in the waves. Begin your own ascent, Ouran. We have succeeded today. We shall continue to do so. But here, we must depart. I will work my way back through Rome to reach the peak. Nandum’s Nightsphere will become mine,” he paused, bringing his gaze to watch the innards of the mint-green sea. “Only with it... can I bring us to the next era. He has misused it. Wasted it. But I won’t. I will venture into the Great Darkness and unlock the mysteries of the fall. The empires have held back our galaxy’s development without concern for how the others’ have grown. How the dimensions are rising, how the war for the central position is upon us.”
With each word, Joseph’s emphatic voice transcended his own body further and further. The rift between dimensions expanded to fit an entire starship beneath his might.
No longer could he be restrained.
No longer would the Lightning Wraith bow beneath a behemoth's wings, for he held a spear to slay them.
He stepped forward, entering the Lightsea, where his kind was not welcomed, yet he was different. It loved him, and he loved it back, filling the bottomless cavity spawned from loss.
With one final glance back at his student, he said farewell. Any other mentor would be worried about their protege’s life or death, but Joseph knew him better than anyone.
All he needed was a fire, and he would survive anything.
“Our leader has want for another goal. But I know you. You are like me. We seek something far beyond. Enter Glaniece. Join their ranks. I will await our next meeting upon the final expedition into the Great Darkness. There… There we shall find Truth.”