Chương 40: Downpour

Gozen and Ava's son soared through the sky on his nimbus cloud. Wind rushed past his face, filling him with a taste of the freedom he'd never been allowed. Below him spread the city of DustHaven, and it was nothing like the simulated, shining metropolis of Quantis he'd explored in Astorian Online. Only slums painted in shades of brown and gray, buildings held together by scrap metal and splintered wood, patched so many times they looked ready to fall in on themselves.

He guided his cloud down into the city, watched the nimbus fade to mist, and landed on one of the unstable roofs with a creak. He ran across the rooftops, leaping effortlessly from one building to the next. Below him the streets churned with life. There were no gleaming cars like the ones that lined the roads of Quantis. Instead, duck-horse carriages rattled past, hauling crates of bruised fruit and wilted vegetables, their wheels bumping over ruts in the packed dirt.

Burly men pushed through the crowd, pickaxes slung over their shoulders and burlap sacks on their backs, and soot smeared thick across their faces. No high-ranking Awakened would ever bother to reside in DustHaven. The slums were beneath them, and everyone knew it. That was exactly why the place drew a different crowd: Awakened who had stalled out, chasing whatever opportunity they could still find. In the capital, a Peak Rank was nothing special, just another face in a crowd of stronger ones.

Here, a Peak Rank's word carried the weight of law. Three of those opportunists were watching him now. They stood in the shadows of a narrow alley, three figures who'd seen him drop out of the sky on a cloud. They tracked his path across the rooftops, eyes fixed not on his face but on his clothes, clean and pressed, so out of place next to the ragged coats and patched trousers of the locals that he might as well have been glowing. The boy finally reached his destination.

He'd caught the scent of baked sugar a few buildings back, sweet and warm, and it tugged him forward until he found the source: a stall piled high with pies and pastries. He dropped down into the sandy road and walked up to the counter. A cherry pie sat cooling on the counter, its crust glistening with sugar. The sight of it nearly made him drool. He leaned in, letting the warm steam wash over his face, and breathed it in deep, eyes falling shut for just a moment.

"Hey, kid!" The stall owner spun around and swatted him away. She was a heavyset woman, flour dusted across her apron and smudged on one cheek.

"You smell it, you pay!" He nodded fast.

"Absolutely! I'll take a slice, please." She grunted, already reaching for her knife, and cut him a generous wedge. She slid it on a wooden plate next to a fork made of dented scrap metal.

"One Quant," she said. He held out the back of his hand without hesitation. She pressed hers against it, knuckles to knuckles, and a soft chime rang out between them. Her eyes narrowed on his hand, then flicked up to study his face.

"You're awfully young to have the System's payment function unlocked, boy," she said.

"Thought kids didn't awaken their class till they turned eighteen."

"That's right!" he said.

"My parents always told me I was special! I awakened my class the day I was born. Pretty cool, huh?" He finished with a grin, smug and pleased with himself.

"I've never heard of that before," she said, handing him the pie.

"But if I were you, I'd keep that to myself, kid."

"Oh… okay!" he said, already turning to go. He waved over his shoulder without looking back, missing the worry laced into her voice completely, and set off down the street, shoveling down forkful after forkful of pie until something caught his eye. A jewelry stand stood on the corner. It wasn't anything fancy. Cheap necklaces strung from common ore, bracelets twisted out of copper wire, all laid out on a table. He finished off the last bite of pie and wandered over for a closer look. These are pretty, he thought.

Maybe if I bought Mom something nice, she'd talk Dad out of killing me for sneaking out. Three men stood behind the stall, though they looked more like guards than jewelers. Blood-stained cloaks hung over their shoulders, and he caught the shine of a metal breastplate underneath, and the leather-wrapped hilt of a sword peeking out from the side of one man's hip.

"Anything catch your eye, sir?" the man in the center asked, arms spread wide over the cheap wares.

"Mhm." He pointed.

"That necklace, the one with the red stone. How much?"

"For you, kid? Three Quants." The man grinned and held up three fingers.

"Okay! That seems fair." He held out his hand to pay, and the jeweler mirrored the motion. But when the backs of their hands met, the chime that should have followed never came. Instead, the man flipped his hand over and clamped down on his wrist.

"Hey! What are you doing?" He yanked his arm back, but the grip held firm. Before he could break free, the man on the left pulled a wooden wand from his belt and jabbed it toward his face. A puff of green smoke burst from the tip, swallowing his face in a haze. His vision blurred, and his legs buckled beneath him. He tried to call out, but the words slurred and tangled together until they weren't words at all. Then the world went black. The third man lunged forward and caught him before he hit the ground.

"Bind him," the leader ordered. White cloth shot from his palm, wrapping around him again and again, pinning his arms tight and swallowing him up to the neck.

"That was almost too easy." The leader laughed.

"I thought you said these Hybrid kids were supposed to be trouble."

"Lucky for us, this one's still at the Elite Rank." The mage tucked his wand back into his belt.

"I've heard some of them hit the Peak before they even turn eighteen."

"So what about the jeweler?" the third man asked, nudging the bound, unconscious body slumped beneath the stall with his boot. The leader waved a hand, already turning to leave.

"Leave him. We've got a bigger prize to cash in. I know someone at the Gisaeng House who'll pay a fortune for this one." Gozen and Ava's son slowly clawed his way back to consciousness. His head throbbed, pain splintering through his skull with every bounce and jolt. The bandits were sprinting down a narrow alley, and he was slung over the back of a large man like a sack of grain, body bound too tight to move. He thrashed against the restraints anyway. They didn't budge. But nothing could bind cloud.

His body dissolved into a swirling mist, and the cloth that had bound him slumped empty to the ground. The mist shot away from the bandit's back, drifting clear of the group before twisting in on itself and pulling back into the shape of a boy. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. Sensing the sudden shift in weight, the bandit spun around. His captive stood ten feet away, calmly dusting off his clothes.

"What the hell?" the bandit shouted at the mage.

"I thought you said that tranquilizer spell would knock him out cold for a full day! It's been ten minutes!" The mage snarled.

"Screw these hybrids and their constitution. I think his body metabolizes the poison at an accelerated rate." The leader drew his sword and leveled it at the boy.

"Fine. We'll do this the hard way." He rolled his shoulders, loosening them.

"It's just one Elite kid against three Peaks. Rough him up enough to cripple him, but leave the core alone." Before the leader could finish, he turned and bolted, sprinting out of the alleyway and into the open street. The main road came into view, and there he saw his savior: a man patrolling the street in leather armor, the insignia of DustHaven stamped across his shoulders.

"Help! Over here—" He toppled forward and hit the ground face-first. White cloth cinched tight around his ankles, yanking him backward. But that didn't matter now. He was safe. The guard had seen him. The officer spun around, his hand hovering inches from the hilt of his sword. On the ground, the boy was slowly being dragged back into the shadows of the alley.

"Release the boy!" the guard shouted, drawing his blade.

"What kind of idiot tries to kidnap a child in broad daylight?" The bandit stepped out of the alleyway, letting his silhouette come into full view. He gave the guard a lazy, finger-wiggling wave.

"Relax, Herald! Kidnapping? Me?" He pressed a hand to his chest, feigning offense.

"The kid owes us a massive debt. I'm simply in charge of collecting it." Had he stolen something? He couldn't think of a single thing. His brow furrowed, frustration climbing up his throat.

"Debt? What debt? What are you—" A strip of white cloth shot across his mouth before he could finish, muffling the rest into a mumble. Herald shot a sympathetic look at the boy, then shifted his gaze back to the bandit. With a long sigh, his shoulders slumped, and he slid his sword back into its sheath.

"I thought I told you to handle your matters quietly, did I not?" Herald grumbled.

"I assume everything is in order now?" The bandit flashed a double thumbs-up, grinning ear to ear.

"No worries. I've got it from here."

"Wait!" His voice came out muffled and desperate beneath the cloth.

"Aren't you supposed to help me? He's lying. I'm not a debtor!" Herald avoided his gaze, coughed into his fist, and turned to walk the other way.

"Help! Somebody, help me!" He screamed against the restraints, his voice cracking with desperation. The bandit wound a second strip of cloth over his mouth.

"Quiet, you little brat." He spread his arms wide, sweeping them toward the crowded street.

"Look around. Nobody here can save you. And even if they could, why would they? Everybody's got their own lives to worry about." Dozens of shopkeepers and customers had been watching. But the instant the bandit pointed them out, they averted their eyes and went back to their own business. The pie stall owner had watched it all unfold. A heavy frown tugged at her lips when she saw the tears welling in the boy's eyes, but all she could do was cross her arms and pretend to count inventory.

"Now, come on," the bandit said, hauling him back into the shadows of the alley.

"We've got a long way back to Quantis." This made no sense. Security in a fake virtual world like Astorian Online was stricter than this—so why hadn't that guard done anything? Why hadn't anybody? It didn't matter. No one was coming. If he wanted out, he'd have to get himself out, the only way he knew how. Wraith was still on an eight-minute cooldown. Until it wore off, he couldn't slip free of the cloth wound so tightly around him. But his time was running out.

The gang wouldn't just put him to sleep again, not now that they knew how tough he was and that he could turn intangible. They'd beat him to a pulp instead, crippling him so he couldn't run again. There was only one way out of this. His father had warned him never to use the ability around other people. It drew too much attention. But he already had plenty of that now, seeing as the whole street had just watched him get kidnapped in broad daylight and done nothing about it.

Why should he care what anyone thought anymore? Shroud Domain Smoke erupted from his core, clouds churning and rolling as they spread across the rooftops and walls, swallowing the alley whole. Unlike Gray's domain, his didn't stop at a small, localized sphere. Instead, it grew fast, ballooning into a massive dome that swallowed everything within a fifty-foot radius. Blind in the smoke, the bandit yelled and hauled hard on the cloth binding his captive.

But when he reached the end of the cloth rope, nobody was there. He'd slipped into his Wraith form the instant the domain materialized, restraints falling away as he rose high into the sky. Beneath him, the bandits stumbled, wildly hacking away at the thick smoke.

"Where'd he go?" one of the bandits shouted.

"I can't see a thing! Where are you?" another voice cried, thick with panic. He could slip away in the chaos. He should slip away. But why would he? Up here, he was a god looking down at roaches, just waiting to be stomped flat. Running now would only leave his pride in tatters. He didn't want to be the bigger man. Fuck them. Still, angry as he was, logic hadn't left him completely. As much as he wanted to take out the bandits, he wasn't about to dive in without a plan.

If he attacked while still inside the domain, his Wraith form would drop instantly, and he'd lose the upper hand. The optimal way to secure a victory was to hit them hard all at once. He'd been practicing an ability combo back in Astorian Online, and this was the perfect chance to test it out on live training dummies. But then he recalled the sheer scale of the attack. If he used that combo here, innocent civilians might get hurt. It was a pointless concern.

His blood boiled as his mind flashed back to the guard turning his back, and the shopkeepers and customers looking away like nothing was happening. Fine. If everyone only cared about themselves, he was allowed to do the same. They were just collateral damage. He raised his arms high and willed the heavy dome of smoke to rise. The domain climbed slowly, carrying him along with it. This was the first time he'd used Cloud Mastery to move his domain on such a massive scale.

The dome came to a halt, hovering nearly five hundred feet in the air. Sanguine Rain The smoke churned. Its milky white slowly darkened to a bruised purple, then deepened into a rich blood-red. This was the combo he'd been practicing in the virtual world, spending months of grinding monsters just to perfect the area-of-effect skill. Bringing it into the real world for the first time should have felt strange. But thanks to all those hours in-game, it barely did.

Being able to hone a skill in the virtual world and carry it into real combat was a godsend. Another perk of the game was how it made combat and hunting easier for novice Awakened to stomach. Since the simulated beasts and players weren't real, it created a kind of numbness when it came to taking a life—making the Kaiser's path that much easier. The combo worked best against a mob of enemies. He'd rain down sharp, crystallized blood needles on a group of them, killing on impact.

So far, the execution had been flawless. Except for one anomaly. In the game, he would watch the downpour from the ground. But here, he was a participant, sitting right in the middle of the clouds. Being surrounded by the bloody vapor triggered something in his core. Thirst. The well of power inside him felt too deep to ever satisfy. This wasn't enough. He needed to let go. He needed blood.

"No, stop!" he begged, straining to call the skill back before it could finish. But it was too far gone. Down on the ground, the three Awakened looked up at the sky—or what was left of it. The sun had vanished completely, blotted out by the crimson veil. They sprinted as fast as their legs could carry them, scrambling over crates and each other to clear the alley. Chests heaving, the three of them broke free of the cloud's shadow and staggered clear of the smoke by a few feet. But you couldn't outrun the sky.

Drunk on power, he threw his arms wide. The blood clouds exploded outward, rolling across the sky like a hovering tsunami, refusing to stop until the entire town of DustHaven was swallowed in a bloody twilight. Normally, an Elite-Ranked Awakened couldn't have pulled off something on this kind of scale. Three things made it possible. First, Gozen and Ava's son had begged and pestered his parents until they agreed to push him up to Elite Rank early.

Second, his parents had upgraded every one of his abilities to Tier II. He'd argued it would help him defend himself, help him escape if things ever went wrong. But really, he just wanted stronger and flashier abilities to play with in Astorian Online. The last piece of the puzzle was his Dual-Class. Hybrids like him got a head start in their growth and carried a broader, more versatile skillset than their peers, but that wasn't the primary reason as to why they were so revered.

What made them dangerous was the nature of their core. For the average Awakened, the core passively absorbed ambient mana, funneling it into the spell pockets within its domain. A Hybrid core functioned much the same, save for one critical distinction: it filtered and refined the nature of the mana, increasing its purity right before filling up the spell storages. This dramatically enhanced the potency and efficiency of all their abilities. The downpour began.

The clouds bled, unloading a bloody hailstorm onto the city below. The leader of the bandits threw up a blue barrier around himself. It didn't help. The red needles relentlessly slammed down onto the shield, shattering it right before piercing straight through his steel-plate armor—turning him into a human pincushion. The mage died instantly, and the cloth-wielder never stood a chance either. The citizens of DustHaven were cut down in a matter of seconds.

People scattered for cover, diving beneath stalls, barricading themselves inside their homes, but the makeshift roofs and rotting walls did nothing to stop the merciless downpour. The barrage lasted only a minute. The destruction it left behind would last far longer. The rain finally stopped, and the screams died with it. The city that had once been a blotch of brown and gray was now painted in a thick coat of red, its color drawn from the blood of the fallen and from the sanguine rain that had killed them.

The bloody massacre of DustHaven would go down in history as the single largest act of genocide in all of Astoria. Total casualty count: 50, 484