Chapter 202: Grim Dance (1)
“It was you, wasn’t it? Behind all of it.” Rambert asked, though he could already guess the answer.
Travelling to Bogside town, he and his companions hadn’t really cared much about Nesha and Percy. They’d heard of them, of course, but they’d thought the two were just a front – a couple of low-born informants House Avalon had placed there. Their actual fighters had to be hiding in the swamp, right?
It was with that mindset that he’d chased Percy through the bog, hoping to squash the pesky insect before his leaders had the chance to join him. Not to mention erasing the sheer humiliation their family had endured when Dranold got caught in that trap.
But the enemy reinforcements he had expected never arrived. Not when he chased Percy through the trees, nor when they tried to ambush him and Grian with those pitfalls. Throughout the whole thing, it had always been just Percy – and maybe his girlfriend too. And yet, despite everything, Percy was still alive. Somehow, he had kept up with him, evading him and even enduring some of his blows, luring him all the way here.
“What even are you?” Rambert asked again, looking up at his opponent’s otherworldly figure.
Crouching atop the branch, Percy was clad in an ethereal suit of armour, shimmering in a pale teal light. The armour was cracked in many places, an entire layer almost gone, yet the rest of it was in good condition. What was it made of?! Some kind of metal? Or was that mana?!
Percy’s entire frame shone in a rich Orange through Mana Sense. The sheer amount of mana contained within it would put any Yellow to shame. Resting on his shoulder was a huge scythe made of the same material as the armour, its curved edge glinting beneath the moonlight. And then there was the teal smoke pouring out of his back too, flowing into the wind like a cape.
Yet, by far the most ominous trait, were Percy’s eyes. Like a pair of gemstones, they shone from within the shadow of his visor, piercing through the darkness. They appeared to stab right into Rambert’s soul, their cold gaze sending a shiver down his spine.
But Percy remained silent, clearly not in the mood to chat. Then, he shifted. Robbing the weapon of its colour, he swung his arm at him, presumably flinging the scythe at a ridiculous speed.