บท 453: W
C553 - Wash
Leonel stood in silence.
In the skies, the lines of red-black grew thicker, the leaches become less and less illusory.
Leonel's gaze shifted down from the skies, landing on Aina who still seemed to be immobile. Though it now seemed to be in part due to struggling against the Puppet Master's growing control, a large majority of it seemed to be fear.
Leonel found it hard to believe that this was his Aina. Fear was never an emotion he had seen her display before. At the very least, not for the sake of an enemy.
It could be said that the first time Leonel saw Aina's fa?ade crack was that day in the bathhouse. He could still remember the path every tears that fell down her cheeks took. He remembered the exact hue of her reddened eyes, the way her wet hair had stuck to her face, the way she trembled through each and every one of her clumsy actions.
The emotions she experienced that day were all seared into his mind.
But, that was that and this was this.
The Aina he knew charged into war with her ax brandished and her blade bloodied. She had no fear, none of the shyness she usually displayed, and the valiant nature of a Valkyrie.
But Aina, his Aina, stood here shaking simply due to a voice.
Leonel remembered back to the time he asked Aina what happened that day. She reeled back, trying to pretend as though everything was fine. Yet he, instead of trying to understand where she was coming from, pulled back instead.
He hadn't understood the fear she was feeling, the anxiety or the trepidation. He didn't grasp the fact that just recalling such memories were this difficult for her already, let alone having to relay them to someone else.
Leonel took a step forward and caressed Aina's cheek. She still seemed to be lost in her own world, clenching her fists and staring down at the ground hard as though to push the emotions she was feeling away. She didn't want to experience such a reaction, she didn't want this Puppet Master to have such control over her, yet she couldn't stop her own visceral reaction.
Even when Leonel touched her cheek, she didn't react until several moments later. It was as though the warmth of his palm couldn't reach her even through skin to skin contact.
When Aina finally realized that Leonel was standing right before her, she looked up weakly, her gaze tinted with a slight red.
Leonel could see the rage in them. It wasn't rage pointed toward the Puppet Master or even him. It was rage she pointed toward herself for being so weak, for allowing such emotions to have such a hold on her.
"I… I can't move again…" Aina said softly.
"It doesn't matter." Leonel responded, his hand gently pushing back Aina's hair. "I'll kill him."
The words were simple. They hung in the air like a spring breeze, riding the wind. There was no rage in Leonel's voice, there was only gentleness.
Leonel had always hated to kill. But for Aina, he could speak such words as though they were nothing.
Aina used what control of her body she did have to lean her head onto Leonel's palm. Her eyes closed and her breathing steadied.
"I want to see it." She said softly.
Leonel smiled. "As my Queen commands."
Leonel's voice carried a tinge of iciness that left Aina feeling completely at ease.
To appear on his world, sending commandments down from above, speaking of taking his woman… The Puppet Master was truly tired of living.
Aina smiled lightly hearing Leonel's words. Compared to when the Puppet Master called her such a thing, she felt as though she was hearing the most soothing thing in existence.
Leonel moved his hand away, ripping the tops of his robes off to reveal a muscular frame. He carried Aina onto his back, tying her to him.
The warmth of Leonel's skin put Aina at ease. She rested her cheek on to his shoulder and back, her eyes remaining closed. She didn't want Leonel to see the look in her eye, the look that told the world just how furious she was at this moment.
Leonel could feel that his body still hadn't properly recovered. It had only been a day since the battle at Dark Cloud Prison, so how could it? However, at this moment, he felt blood rushing through his every being.
His heart thumped like war drums, his blood flooding through his veins and arteries like crashing waterfalls.
By this point, the thickening lines that shot into the sky began to converge on Leonel's position. When Leonel saw who they were, he wasn't very surprised. In fact, his gaze was cold and indifferent, a fury within his chest slowly bubbling upward.
The patrol guards of White City struggled, trying to break free of the control the illusory leaches had on them. But, no matter how hard they tried, they continued to walk forward, each brandishing their own weapons.
In a distant place, the Puppet Master sat in a vat of blood. The only adornment on its body was a familiar headpiece that hung from its forehead.
The pressure radiating around it was palpable, reaching levels that shouldn't have been possible. Or at least, it didn't seem possible for the ignorant.
The barrier between Dimensions could be considered like a separation between mortality and immortality. A person of a higher Dimension was like a God looking down on their subjects.
Leonel's father had force fed a lot of ancient entertainment down his son's throat. If the strength of a Dimensional being were to be described through this lense, it would be most straightforward to say that at the lowest echelons, a Dimensional being was essentially at the beginning of their journey while at the highest, they were nearing godhood.
What did all of this mean? This was all to say that comparing someone who had just entered the Fourth Dimension to someone a half-step from the fifth was like comparing someone at the bottom of a world to someone at the top.
If a Fifth Dimensional being was a God to a Fourth Dimensional being… then someone like the Puppet Master was a Demigod.
This Demigod watched as Leonel strapped Aina to his back, a cold expression on its face.
But that was when Leonel looked up into the sky as though piercing his gaze through the veil to land on the Puppet Master.
Leonel didn't speak any words, but his demeanor made it all as clear as possible.. He was coming, so wash your neck.
To be continued
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