9 Eyes God [on-going]

EIGHTEEN

Chapter 18 // Deadly Plague

"You reap what you sow, sweetchild."

—Somewhere far in Town Bevealth

Rows of mansions filled the vast land owned by the richest families, last names they owned spilled from those who could barely say above a whisper—all spoke of them with high praise, as if they were the mightiest the world has ever seen.

If things had ended up differently, the two girls would have been able to sightsee for the time being. To argue whether the blue mansion with the golden window frames were better or the house where a giant fountain decorates the front of its mansion is better. Both hold one similarity, and it is being entranced by its beauty. It would cost a fortune to build something the length of 5 residential homes for officers in Nebula City.

They let themselves inhale the air, what was left of the earthy scent and the sweet fragrance of planted lavender infront of another majestic stone mansion had dissolved into smoke and ashes. Burnt rubber rose into darkened clouds of gray, the familiar nauseating smell evoking the memories one had long suppressed. The image of a certain women passed by, but the more the person blinked, the more she crept closer, wielding the blade crafted out of blood with strength as equal as a whole squad.

"I see her." She said, turning to her leader who had been weakened from an ambush attack. Her stomach was bleeding profusely despite being stabbed by a small blade.  "Our long last grim reaper..."

"So my time has come, isn't it?" Asked her leader, a woman nearing her fifties with curly hair that stuck to her face due to a sheen of sweat coating her dark features. "Im afraid you have to leave me here, Eight." 

"I cannot. You are the Leader... I don--" Eight, the subordinate had to stop talking as pain made her almost crumple to the ground. She had her leg almost cut off, that was the only injury she had gotten. But she cannot leave just yet, she cannot kick the bucket just yet. She shared similar features to her leader, she had brown dreadlocks wrapped around her head and they shook as she took a step forward, brown skin dripping with sweat from exertion. "We cannot leave you behind."

They had failed the mission. It was supposed to be a usual heist, to take money from those who wronged them and leave no survivors. After all they came from a rural town, where woman are praised for being proficient in handling wood crafted weapons and in combat.

Nevertheless, the peace they had accumulated in their forestry lands crashed after the whole Nebula City declared a compulsory rule of having children at the ripe age of 12-15 enroll in Nebula Academy.

The two had their families forced to comply, while the rest objected it. And as a result, those who defied the town were massacred infront of them. It doesn't matter the age whether it is a child or an elderly, because they all laid in similar heaps of their blood, mangled bodies dotted the green grass into powerful crimson. They cursed the lands with their last breath, and entrusted the seed of revenge to grow in the hearts of those who survived.

That must have been decades ago. After complying with the rules ,the two girls, Eight and her Leader were now the strongest and the stealthiest of them all. But the seed of revenge had now growned into an adult tree where the leaves that emerged from its stalk are dripping with blood.

They decided to run away from the Nebula stronghold, to not follow the rules anymore after a certain mission. It was not the best of their plans, but they did it to survive. And now that they are free woman with the natural potential of an assassin, it fueled them with confidence knowing most of their missions were efficiently done. However, that slip up of lowering one's guard let them fall with flaw.

Their benefactor never told them— nor do they think the person they've been following would knew, that Squad 1 was guarding Town Bevealth.

It was no mistaking it. The person who wielded the long blade of a rapier, the silver visor that covered most of her face and left the long strands of her silver hair afloat. There was no need to doubt.