Chapter 231: Lord of Information
"How the fuck is he still alive with a ninety-degree swivel in his vertebrae?!" Eren squawked, taking two hurried steps back.
"He’s using The Substance too," Alice hissed through gritted teeth, her eyes wide with revulsion as she settled into a low combat stance.
"Seriously? How many addicts are running loose in this city?!" Eren groaned, shaking his head.
The Whisper didn’t indulge in banter.
With silent velocity, the Lord of Information blurred across the room. His twin darkened blades hissed through the air, carving a lethal double-cross aimed straight at Alice’s throat.
Alice threw her weight backward, the razor-sharp tips skimming mere millimeters past the frayed fabric of her hood. But Whisper didn’t pause for recoil—using the exact momentum of the missed sweep, his joints twisted with unnatural fluidity, pirouetting on a single toe to whip the reverse blade in a vicious horizontal decapitator aimed directly at Eren’s neck.
Eren ducked, feeling the steel rustle his hair. A genuine spark of awe flashed across his blue eyes. ’Fast. Disgustingly fast.’
Before Whisper’s blade could complete its arc, Eren’s left hand clamped hard on Whisper’s wrist mid-swing. Using the leverage, Eren stepped deep into the assassin’s guard and drove his right elbow upward with concussive force, aiming to cave in Whisper’s throat.
THUD!
The strike landed clean against Whisper’s throat, but the Lord of Information didn’t so much as blink. Without a flicker of pain in his hollow gaze, Whisper violently snapped his forehead forward in a brutal headbutt.
Eren’s vision whitened as the force rattled his skull.
In that exact split-second of recoil, Alice lunged from Whisper’s blind spot, her right fist primed to drive a strike through his ribs. Yet before her knuckles could land, Whisper’s free hand dropped his dagger, shot backward like a striking serpent, and caught her incoming punch right at the wrist, halting her kinetic momentum dead in its tracks.
Alice’s breath hitched in raw disbelief.
"Fascinating," Whisper murmured. The voice was hollow, utterly devoid of warmth, an eerie, genderless whisper. "You two really reduce Branagh to cinders? Your current velocity is remarkably mediocre."
"Yeah? How about our temperature, asshole?!"
Eren snorted. Channelling an explosive surge of fire mana through his core, he ignited his pinned arm into a roaring wreath of cerulean flame.
The unnatural fire scorched through Whisper’s sleeve, blackening his wrist in a cloud of acrid, sizzling smoke. The Lord of Information let out a sharp hiss, violently releasing both Eren and Alice as he retreated, whipping his hand through the air to snuff out the lingering embers.
Alice rolled back to Eren’s flank, scooping up a fallen steel broadsword with a fluid flick of her boot. Eren reached behind his back, his fingers wrapping around the twin, notch-bladed hatchets strapped to his belt, drawing them with a crisp, twin shing.
"Alright, spooky," Eren muttered, his roguish grin returning despite the blood trailing from his nose. "Round two. Let’s see how much lighter fluid your coat can—"
Eren’s instincts suddenly flared.
Behind him.
’SHIT!’
Eren spun on his heel with feral instinct, crossing the thick steel shafts of his twin hatchets in an X-guard against his chest.
CLAAAANG!
A sweeping broadsword stroke descended from the shadows.
The shockwave was immense. Eren’s boots lost traction, tearing twin grooves through the damp moss and flagstones as he was violently skidded backward twenty feet, slamming hard against an old stone pillar. The jarring force vibrated straight through his forearms, setting his half-healed ribs on fire.
Eren gritted his teeth, blinking away the dust as he lowered his axes.
Standing in the center of the room, was a tall, immaculately groomed man in a charcoal greatcoat lined with silver embroidery. A polished silver monocle sat over his left eye. He held a thin, elegant rapier at his side, casually rolling his shoulders.
Silas. The Lord of Contracts.
Alice stiffened, her gaze darting between the two sovereigns now blocking the only exit.
"Silas..." she breathed, her grip tightening.
Silas gave his blade a light, dismissive flick, flicking a single speck of dirt from the edge before slowly pacing in a calm, measured circle around. He adjusted his monocle, his gaze passing over the battered youth, the masked girl, and the snoring lump of Baron Kiliyan in the corner.
"So," Silas started, his voice carrying the dry, aristocratic boredom of a tax collector inspecting a peasant’s barn. "These are the two little ghosts who made our city go into chaos?"
"The very same," Whisper replied, his burned wrist already knitting. "The perspective magic on the boy is fraying."
Silas stopped his stroll, turning the tip of his rapier toward Eren’s chest and giving a thin, chilling smirk.
"Splendid," Silas said softly. "Let’s take them then."
Before Eren could finish coughing the dust from his lungs, Silas closed the distance, unleashing a blinding flurry of straight thrusts aimed with precision at Eren’s heart, throat, and femoral artery.
Eren parried furiously, his twin hatchets spinning in tight, desperate orbits. The sheer, mechanical perfection of Silas’s fencing rattled his freshly knitted ribs, sending spikes of white-hot agony shooting through his chest. A fourth thrust slipped beneath his guard, the needle point carving a burning line along Eren’s left ribs, drawing a spray of red that spattered against the stone sarcophagus.
"Frail," Silas whispered, his monocle gleaming with cold disdain as he stepped inside Eren’s reach, his free hand snapping forward to deliver a palm strike charged with dense kinetic mana. "Your balance leans left. Your breathing is ragged. The Lord of Flesh did our work for us."
BOOM.
The palm hit Eren square in the sternum. Eren skidded backward, his boots smoking against the damp floor, but instead of crumpling, he caught his footing with a feral snarl. He ignited the heads of both hatchets with aura and hurled the right one end-over-end straight at Silas’ smug face.
Silas casually tilted his head half an inch, the axe whistling past his ear to embed itself into the masonry behind him. But that half-second of distraction was all Eren needed. Crossing the gap with an unhinged burst of speed, Eren brought his remaining hatchet down in a brutal, two-handed cleave.
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[Image of Eren with Norelia, Emma, and Mira sleeping peacefully. Memories of Chapter 87.]