Bab 1: Prologue: The Dormant King
Omniscient POV
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"The concept of glory is magnificent and forever lasting yet easily lost within the shadows of another. Rise above and cast a light of your own."
In the center of a clearing, scattered autumn leaves waged war with the ankles of a young man.
The grey tips of his dark hair fluttered like ash in the breeze. His jacket blazed blood under the light of dusk, and the battle formation of stitches across his broad back weaved together a golden eagle. Both his sleeves were rolled and trapped by elbow clips, revealing a single glove and compression sleeve on his left arm.
Quick puffs of vapour fired from his lips with each shaky breath. He gripped the ivory hilt of a short, heavily modified sword hooked to his belt and glared at the ever growing shadows in the treeline.
Beside him, violet and blue blurred.
"I've brought them," said an older, well dressed man with glasses.
"Reynold," said the man in red, "do you think it's enough?"
"Hardly," Reynold shook his head, "but we can make do. It's only practice, Roderick."
"You'll be helping," Roderick glanced over, "right?"
"Just don't die."
In another blur, the man in blue disappeared from sight.
Low rumbles echoed around the clearing where rows of lava bright eyes emerged from behind the wall of trees.
One by one, a pack of black furred muscles with dagger tipped maws and razor edged claws came into full view. The bone spikes along their spines and lengthy arms, and the white masks each beast donned made their identities unmistakable.
"Beowolves." Roderick grimaced and positioned himself. The sword slipped free at a tug, fingers close to the gun trigger on the hilt. "Of all the Grimm, it just had to be Beowolves, huh, Reynold?"
The pack broke into a sprint.
Huddled together, too many to take on at once, Roderick swung and pulled the trigger. The black blade popped apart and extended into a row of segmented pieces, tethered together by a thick elastic cord connected to a spool in the guard.
The whip arced through rows of fur, clearing the space in an instant. He snapped the flexible blade around a Beowolf's neck, pressed a toggle switch, securing it with a magnetized lock, and yanked the canine close enough to snap its jaw with a boot.
A growl from the side made Roderick's eyes go wide. Instinct alone lurched him away from a set of claws shredding the air close to his nose. He reeled the whip back into one solid piece, whirled, and greeted the canine's throat with a glint of darkened metal.
Roderick hit another switch and turned the sword sideways. A ring flicked up on the guard, the grip extended, and the pommel unfurled ninety degrees into a buttstock fitted square against his shoulder. The tapered end of the blade split vertically open, exposing the gun muzzle hidden within the tip.
Roderick dropped to a knee, leveling the ring with his eye, and every canine caught in his sights were blasted full of holes after each squeeze of the trigger. A Beowolf got close. He dodged its sluggish swipes, and when it reared for a bite, a bullet ripped in and out the back of its throat.
At the signal of the much dreaded ping, he gritted his teeth at the empty clip ejecting from a slot in the guard.
Crushed leaves screamed ahead. A muscled arm knocked his weapon loose. He fell into a backwards roll, cracking the canine's chin with a kick and breaking its snout with a jumping left hook.
Roderick sidestepped a black mass charging him from the flank and slipped free a dagger from inside his jacket. The grooved, cylindrical guard was slicked wet once he jammed the blade into its neck.
The last two Beowolves separated and rounded the clearing with a newfound passion.
He slid underneath the first one to reach him, snatched its hind leg, and cried out, batting it at the second canine close behind. They whimpered on collision and tripped on their own feet in confusion.
On the side of the dagger, Roderick hit a switch, transforming it into a large revolver. He lined them up and squeezed the trigger. The projectile exploded from the muzzle, tearing into both Beowolves. He flicked his thumb up on a lever. The revolver beeped, and the canines boomed. Their mushy, oversized pieces were easy to find in the red and black rain.
From the edge of the treeline, Reynold strolled past the carnage and smirked at the Beowolves disintegrating into a fine smoke.
"Good work, Roderick." The older man stopped beside him. "Minus a few points for the last shot, however. The gun nearly broke your nose."
Roderick retrieved his sword but paused a moment before hooking it to his belt.
Reynold stopped beside him. "Something on your mind?"
"How do you think they're doing?" he said and searched the distance. "I mean, it's been a while."
He adjusted his glasses and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Patience, brother. You'll see them again soon."
An orange leaf fluttered overhead. Roderick opened his gloved hand and smiled at the leaf swaying into his palm.
"Yeah," he fiddled with the laurel wreath pendant dangling over his chest, "I know."
Reynold raised a finger. "One more thing."
"Hmm?"
"Retrieve the casings." The man in blue walked away. "Those can be reused, you know."
Roderick stared at the dozens of metal cylinders scattered across the clearing, sighed, and got to work.
PERTIMBANGAN PENCIPTA 
BlueJay62
BlueJay62 Hi everyone, BlueJay62 here.
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Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone