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Chapter 35 - A somber moment of time

The now maskless man had no face, just a shape of a humanoid man, but he lunged toward Shizune who was clinging onto her damaged crowbar, but she was in too much pain to move. She glanced back at Satoya, then saw a figure holding a sword behind the weird faceless man, although her sight was becoming blurry by every passing second due to her losing consciousness, she found it quite odd. On the fact that the sword the figure holding had the blade that mimicked the color of the moon, the hilt was plain but had an odd Azure gem in the center, connecting the blade and hilt.

Huh? That sword... That Ludwig dude is here? What kind of Divine intervention is this….

Shizune passed out, her hand finally letting go of the crowbar. Yet the maskless man spun one of his needles, holding the sharp point down to prepare for a lethal stab. But quickly turned to avoid an incoming blade that was thrown. An unsheathed katana was thrown, narrowly missing the maskless man, and is now in the wall. A gate opened beside the maskless man, with Ludwig stepping in, and kicking the maskless man back.

"Hmph, you aren't a real Heart Weaver." Ludwig declared as he lunged into the direction of where the maskless man was standing. They both clashed, each movement was too precise for any miscalculation. Ludwig figured this man to be a fraud of a Heart Weaver due to him sensing nothing but influx from the man.

I can only sense influx from the man, no bloodlust, no fear, nothing. Which gives me the conclusion that this is merely a projection made by a Truth Seeker with a Verity that revolves around projecting a near perfect illusion.

The humanoid man still danced, his needles were targeting vital points that would be too difficult to block because of the manoeuvring of him, however Ludwig was able to match the tempo, even outpacing and predicting every single movement.

And with a deciding deflection that caused a needle to be discarded, Ludwig cleaved the man's head. And as he had expected, there was no blood, except the head and body, including the needles to start fading into a blurry golden light.

Meanwhile the whirling disoriented everything near to its sounding grasp. And the shattering of bones, then the droplets of blood. A scream, a bitter calling with the reaching of one's hand.

"JOHNATHAN!"

Johnathan clutched his chest, blood spilling from his closed lips. His knees gave up, collapsing under weakness, eventually falling forward onto the floor, consciousness waning from the dusk of the day of consciousness.

Flash of sparks from a firearm followed, bullets falling into the ground with a muffled drop. The afternoon sun shone through, no matter the occasion, no matter the situation.

An unconscious Rayna was lying on her side, her knife bloody. Her neck was bruised badly by a blunt weapon. Another shot rang out, burning ammunition fell, but nothing seemed to have worked.

Edward backed up slowly, still holding his pistol with both of his hands. His eyes were dilated in fear, his heartbeats too rapid. His breathing was inconsistent, yet concerning fast. He had no injuries worthy of note, simply the sweat making his firm grip feel slippery.

There was a phone, still on, the phrase game over was red, covering the phone screen itself. Simply played by teenagers who should be in college at this age yet still acting like immature high schoolers. Edward always wanted to go to a Prestigious 4 university, which are 4 universities that are the greatest universities one could enter. Yet he wasn't expecting himself to blindly follow someone who he thought was a Truth Seeker, someone who he always wanted to be when he was too young to understand the possible frauds of Truth Seeking. Edward's group before this catastrophe were finding an airport, a dock, somewhere to leave, shrugging off the odd long black haired man holding the notebook and pen, however they were suddenly attacked, a solo ambush by the same man who was holding a wooden staff.

But he was still trying to survive, once he found a way home in Okamura, could he go back to studying and enter one of those Prestigious 4 universities. Yet the man in front of him, someone who he no longer than 5 minutes ago discovered to be a man who goes by Amrisoa, was holding onto a thin wooden staff.

No matter how many times he fired his pistol in which he was oblivious to how much ammunition was left, Amrisoa calmly stepped to the sides, predicting his desperate aim.

Why did I have to follow him? Why did I believe and follow Satoya? I should've realized he was faking to be a Truth Seeker! A man without a Verity? That I asshole is the reason why we all die, and I don't want to fucking die!

Amrisoa gripped the staff, his long hair still swaying as though this was a mere fleeting moment. He swung up, bashing Edward's chin, causing his glasses to fly off from the force. Edward too was flown back, but he still got back up, his hands were glistening in sweat, and crawled back up.

A foot stepped onto the glasses that were now left alone on the ground, the sound of crunching glass becoming muffled.

Then, Amrisoa swung down his staff, smashing his staff into Edward's forehead, and all Edward could see was the black, a loss of consciousness.

But what is this forest smell? Why does it feel like it's spring? Isn't it summer? Why does it feel… calm?

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