Chapter 50: Homecoming

Two years.

For some, it’s a long time. For others, it’s nothing more than a blink of an eye.

For me, it’s a bitter pill to swallow. My selfish desires, my mistakes in judgment… all of them had to be paid in blood. The blood of the one closest to me. The blood of the girl I loved.

I ended up beating her murderer. But ironically, I couldn’t kill him. My current partner wouldn’t let me. And so, I had to put up with traveling with the same being I detest.

In exchange for her blade, he asked me to kill his comrade. A disgusting act for the disgusting excuse of an archangel. But I accepted nonetheless. A part of me wanted the power she left behind, while another part just wished to have her beside me still.

We learned that the archangel’s target was in the far east. But there was no need for us to travel to their land, he said. My home would be sufficient enough, for an important event would take place there in a short time. The coronation of her sister, England’s Second Princess. The sly rat that took advantage of her absence to claim her right to the throne.

The coronation is a special ceremony in England. However, crowning the next ruler is just a front; its true purpose is to awaken the latent angelic blood within the royal members. She was a special case, as her wings sprouted even without her ascending to the throne, but as for the rest of her scum of a clan, they needed the blessing of their original ancestor, the target of the murder, to be in their presence.

We returned to England. Me, my nemesis, and my current partner. But as we arrived, we soon found out that my face was too recognizable. During the time of her passing, I’d been branded as a wanted criminal all around the nation, for the crime of assassinating the heir to the throne.

My blood still boils at the accusation even now. But not towards the sorry excuse for royals that played their shitty politics game. No; this anger of mine is directed at none other than myself. And yet, I had no choice but to hide from them like a coward.

My partner suggested that I wore a disguise using her illusion spells, but I refused. Wearing a spell is nothing more than running away from my own punishment. If I can’t even dare to change even this, then how am I supposed to face the atrocities I’d done?

I dyed my hair blue. I bid my time and grew a beard during my long travels. I purposely kept myself unkempt and dirty so no one would recognize me anymore. All for the sake of the greater good.

England is my homeland. However, without her at its helm, the nation was on the verge of crumbling. The Knights of the Round – once its pride and joy, now reduced to a sorry bunch who couldn’t do anything besides playing around in their fort of leisure. Its leader, a captain still wet behind his ears, needing years of experience to ever hope to be a true knight. And the worst part was, he was the only other friend I had, thrusted into this position as another political pawn.

We needed to infiltrate the knights to carry out our mission. And so, we disguised ourselves as servants of the Lord, much to my dismay. My partner and my nemesis got the royals’ trust without much effort, while I was tasked to infiltrate from the knights’ side. And there, I saw him again.

I wanted to say so much to him. But at the same time, I couldn’t. Or rather, I was scared to. How would I face him in my true form? Tell him that I’d failed to protect the person that mattered the most to both of us?

And so, I channeled all of my frustration into anger. I lashed out at him for no particular reason. I tried to beat him down and insulted him where it hurt. And to add insult to injury, I was leagues above him.

I could never beat him in a fight before. Now I effortlessly dismantled him without even using the power I’d gained. It was sad, to see someone of his potential fall to this level without a good environment to develop. But then again, who’s to say that it’s not for the best? Wasn’t he like that because he didn’t have to throw himself into a struggle between forces beyond his understanding?

But even through all that berating, he still stood. Proud and unflinching, like the person he always was. In the end, what I did amounted to nothing yet again, as I was taken into his ranks.

 

Today, we venture on a fruitless patrol to the countryside town of Reading, to keep the knights’ faces from being dragged to the mud. Accompanying me is another rookie who goes by the name Raymond Brass. However, judging by the aura of the tempest within him, I already know that this young man is one of us – chosen by this accursed destiny.

“So… your name is Arthur, right?” The young man asks, trying to strike up a conversation.

“Call me what you want.”

“For now, our benefits lie the same. Why not open up more?”

“I don’t have time for your games, Raymond Brass… if that’s even your real name.”

The back-and-forth between us has made us unconsciously follow a particular path, to a house on a small hill that I never thought I’d see again.

“Where are we?” Brass looks around with a confused look on his face.

“We must have wandered off. Let’s go back.”

“I agree, but why is there an abandoned house here of all places?”

“… Abandoned? What are you talking about?”

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“Look at its state and see for yourself.”

I approach the structure. And soon enough, I realize that the young man was right. As I push open the door, a layer of dust clings to my hand. The door itself is wobbly, almost falling apart as it creaks open. Within the house, there’s no trace of anyone ever living here anymore – not a single piece of clothing or utensil left.

How did this happen? How would a house still filled with familial warmth two years ago be reduced to this?

As I take another step in, an old piece of paper on the floor catches my attention.

Its content is frayed by the passage of time, but I can still make do of it.

Notice of capture.

Targets: Diana Pendragon and Catherine Pendragon.

Crime committed: treason.

Punishment: Execution.

They’ve crossed the line.

They’ve discarded their heir like she was garbage.

They’ve used my best friend as a pawn.

And now they’ve killed my family.

This is no longer about my destiny. This is no longer about good or evil.

This is revenge. Pure, personal revenge.

“Arthur, what’s wrong?”

With a swift strike, I knock the young man unconscious. He never realized what hit him. And using the rune my partner gave me, I can teleport back with ease.

“… Arthur?” My partner gasps in shock as she sees me carrying the unconscious body. “Did you use the teleportation rune? And what happened to that young man…”

“Ask for medics. I knocked him out,” throwing the man towards her, I answer. “I’m done with disguises. They will pay for this.”

“Wait, what do you mean…”

Grabbing a vase of water nearby, I pour the liquid on myself, discarding the blue hue of my hair and returning it to its natural gold. With a quick slash of my blade, the beard is gone as well.

I plunge down with my sacred sword, creating a rupture on the ground. From there, I follow the underground path towards my destination.

A large steel door shows itself before me. I’ve heard stories about this from my friends before, how there was a vault directly beneath the Palace. Meaning that if I tear this place down, everything else goes down with it.

I ready my blade. After my time in England, it has absorbed enough sunlight to fire a full-powered shot with ease. And even without the preparations, the second blade will bring the sun to even this murky underground path.

Finally unsheathing both swords, I raise the two towards the sky.

“Shine on and destroy, Galatine, Excalibur.”

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