Chapter 13: Chapter 11. Verdant Hollow (Part 3)

The words hung in the air, cold and definitive, delivered by the imposing figure in white and gold. "It is over now, your Highness. Come with us."

Sky’s mind screamed. This is bad. This is catastrophically bad. His enhanced senses, usually so precise, had not registered their presence. Not even a whisper of their energy. They had been ghost-like, utterly concealed, watching from the periphery while the first layer of their ambush unfolded. These weren't mere guards. They were something else entirely. Something ancient, dangerous, and beyond his current understanding.

Prince’s face, usually a mask of stoic defiance, crumpled. A flicker of raw despair, profound and chilling, washed over his features. Taigami watched in horror as Prince’s eyes, fixed on the gleaming white armor, seemed to lose all light. He recognized the crest, the aura of ancient power, the subtle, terrifying energy that hummed around these figures. It was the armor of the Holy Knights – the ultimate enforcers of the Cloud Clan’s highest authority, warriors whose very existence was legend, rarely seen, almost mythical.

A silent, desperate understanding passed between Prince and Sky. Their eyes met, a shared, unspoken command searing between them: Run.

But before the thought could fully form into action, the second Holy Knight, a lean, swift figure whose movements were like honed steel, blurred into motion.

Ivan, who had just disoriented the last of the Cloud Clan guards with a fiery feint, suddenly stiffened. He was in mid-stride, his face still alight with mischievous triumph. Then, impossibly fast, a glowing, silvery spear seemed to materialize in his stomach, its tip already buried deep. There was no preceding movement, no visible throw—just the sudden, horrific reality of the weapon impaling him. Ivan’s eyes widened, a flicker of bewildered pain, then nothing but vacant disbelief. The force of the impact lifted him, propelled him backward, carrying him over ten meters through the air like a rag doll. He didn't even have time to scream.

The forest gave way behind him. A sudden, terrifying void opened up – the edge of a sheer cliff, hidden by the dense canopy and the winding river below. Ivan, still unmoving, a small, helpless figure, tumbled over the edge.

For a moment, only the rushing sound of the Verdant Falls could be heard, and the heavy thud of Prince's knees hitting the damp earth. His face was already soaked. Deep, guttural sobs tore from his chest, raw and ragged, mingling with the torrent of tears streaming down his face. His eyes, wide and bloodshot, were fixed on the empty space where Ivan had been, as if willing him back from oblivion.

"IVANNNNNNNN!" Prince screamed, his voice ripped from the deepest, most shattered part of his soul. It wasn't just a shout; it was a wail of utter, soul-crushing despair, of a bond violently severed, of a future annihilated. Every ounce of his grief, his helplessness, his profound loss, was poured into that single, anguished cry that echoed through the forest, a sound of a heart being brutally torn open.

Taigami’s own world tilted. Ivan. Gone. Just like that. His brother’s face flashed before his eyes, and a primal, guttural roar tore from his own lungs. "HAAAAAAAAAA!" He clenched his fists, a furious, desperate surge of defiance, ready to charge the Holy Knight who had just stolen his friend.

But before Taigami could take a single, suicidal step, Sky, his face contorted in a mask of pain and strategic calculation, seized him. His small hand, surprisingly strong, yanked Taigami backward with brutal force, pulling him away from the path of destruction.

It was just in time. The Holy Knight who had conjured the spear, seeing Taigami’s impulsive lunge, was already moving. He was ready to unleash a devastating kick, a blow that would undoubtedly explode Taigami's head. Prince, despite his sobs and the searing pain, saw the imminent threat from the corner of his eye. He reacted with a desperate, selfless surge of energy. He threw himself between Taigami and the incoming attack, his body intercepting the blow. The Holy Knight's armored boot slammed into Prince’s side, a sickening thud echoing through the clearing. Prince cried out, a sharp, choked gasp of agony, his ribs fracturing, his protective dive costing him dearly. He slumped to the ground, barely conscious, a shield for his friend.

At the exact same moment, the first Holy Knight, the one who had spoken, unleashed a silent, powerful punch. It wasn't aimed at Prince, but at Sky. A cold, invisible force slammed into Sky’s chest, throwing him backward. The force of the blow was internal, a dull, crushing impact that radiated through his core. Sky gasped, a rattling, shallow sound, his inner organs twisting in agony. He crumpled to his knees, clutching his stomach, his headphones slipping precariously, the sharp clarity of his strategic mind dissolving into a haze of white-hot pain.

The spear-wielding Holy Knight, now standing over the fallen Prince, raised his foot again, a cold indifference in his eyes, ready to deliver a final, crushing blow. But the first Holy Knight, who had just punched Sky, extended a hand, a gesture of command.

"That's enough, Kael," his voice was flat, bored, almost annoyed. "You're not supposed to hurt the Prince. Just contain him." He sighed, a slow, drawn-out breath that seemed to radiate weariness. "Such a tedious affair."

He looked around the clearing, his gaze lingering briefly on the unconscious Cloud Clan guards, then on the slumped form of Ivan's attacker, and finally on the injured Sky and the terrified Taigami. He then nodded slightly towards a shadow at the very edge of the clearing. A figure emerged, not a Holy Knight, but another, less imposing Cloud Clan guard – clearly a scout or handler, who must have been lurking beyond Sky's initial detection range.

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"Take him," the Holy Knight commanded, gesturing towards Prince with a lazy flick of his wrist. "And ensure he's secured. The rest of you... none of you will get out alive from this place." His eyes, cold as glaciers, swept over Taigami and the barely conscious Sky. The message was clear: they were to be eliminated.

Prince, despite the searing pain in his ribs and the tears still streaming down his face, heard the death sentence. A primal instinct, a surge of defiant energy, ignited within him. With a desperate, guttural grunt, he mustered every last ounce of his waning power. A blinding flash of pure white light erupted from his body, a desperate, final act of defiance. The sudden, intense burst of light momentarily overwhelmed the Holy Knights, forcing them to shield their eyes.

In that precious fraction of a second of disorientation, Sky, battling the agonizing pain that distorted his inner organs, forced himself to move. His teeth gritted, a desperate, raspy sound escaping his lips, and a fresh wave of blood bloomed and spread all over his mouth. He used the last remnants of his energy, a primal scream of ice, to create a focused, concussive sound bomb – a deafening boom of compressed frozen air that exploded with impossible force. The sonic blast ripped through the clearing, disorienting the Holy Knights even further, sending echoes that reverberated through the trees, a desperate cover for their escape.

Gritting his teeth, Sky shoved himself upward, grabbing Taigami’s arm with a grip that belied his pain. "Run! Now!" he rasped, his voice barely a whisper.

He pulled Taigami, half-dragging the stunned boy, away from the blinding light and the echoing sound bomb. They rushed deeper into the forest, leaving the clearing, the two terrifying Holy Knights, and the now-captured Prince behind. Every breath was a searing agony for Sky, every step a torment, but he pushed, driven by a raw, desperate will to survive, to protect the last friend he could.

The sound of the Holy Knights recovering, their furious shouts now muffled by distance, spurred them on. Deeper and deeper they plunged into the unknown, darker heart of the Verdant Forest, leaving behind the shattered pieces of their hopes and the agonizing fate of their friends.

Just as Sky’s legs threatened to give out, a shadow detached itself from the ancient trees ahead. An old man, his face a roadmap of deep wrinkles, yet his eyes impossibly sharp, stepped into their path. His clothes were simple, forest-worn, but a strange aura of timeless power radiated from him, calm and profound.

Sky stumbled, collapsing against the gnarled trunk of a moss-covered tree, his breaths shallow, blood painting his lips crimson. His hand trembled as he reached toward the shadowed figure ahead.

“Help us,” he gasped, barely audible through the gurgle in his throat. “They… they took Prince. Ivan’s… gone.”

The old man didn’t move at first. He simply stood there, his form outlined by shafts of pale morning light filtering through the forest canopy. His back was slightly hunched, one arm carrying a small, crooked shepherd’s staff. His robes were simple—patched, worn, but immaculately kept. A faint scent of cedar and smoke clung to him.

He scratched his beard, unimpressed. “I was tending my sheep not far from here,” he said dryly. “Then I heard some blasted explosion shaking half the woods. Figured a war started without telling me.”

Before Sky could respond, the air around them tensed. Leaves rustled unnaturally. The Holy Knights descended into the clearing like shadows wearing light—white cloaks catching the wind, boots hitting the earth with uncanny silence.

The taller one stepped forward, his voice clipped and firm. “Old man. You’re not our target. Step aside, and you’ll keep your life.”

The other followed, resting his hand casually on the hilt of a wind-etched blade. “We only came for the boys. You’ve no stake in this. Walk away while you still can.”

The old man didn’t flinch. His expression changed—gradually. From harmless elder to something… else. His back straightened. His hand tightened subtly on the shepherd’s staff. His eyes, once dull with age, turned sharp. Diamond-sharp.

“You two…” His voice was quiet now, but iron-laced. “Cloud Clan, aren’t you?”

He stepped forward, unhurried, his tone sharpening with every word. “You mean to kill children—on human clan soil. In neutral territory. Without warning. Without sanction.”

The Holy Knights shifted, unsure.

“Do you have any idea,” the old man continued, “what the other guilds would do if they learned two high-ranking Knights violated the Interclan Accord to assassinate two boys in broad daylight?”

The spear-wielding one—Kael—grunted, raising a hand. “You’re wasting our time, old fool. Back off before I—”

“Kael!” the other Knight barked, suddenly pale.

Kael froze, his hand still raised mid-cast. “What?”

The second Knight’s eyes had gone wide with recognition. His breath hitched. “Lower your arm. Now.”

“But he’s just—”

“He’s not just anything!” the Knight hissed. “Look again.”

Kael looked.

The staff. The way the old man stood. The faint emblem burned into the leather glove on his right hand—so faded it was nearly gone, but unmistakable to anyone who had studied the greats.

“No…” Kael breathed.

The older Knight lowered his head slowly. “Forgive our intrusion,” he said, voice strained. “We… we didn’t realize.”

The old man exhaled. “Then allow me to introduce myself—formally this time.”

He stepped into the center of the clearing.

“I am Arthur Leonheart. Chief of the Neo-Genesis Guild. Former Master of All.”

The title struck like a bell in a thunderstorm.

Kael staggered back a step.

Arthur’s presence filled the air like pressure before a storm. No grand flourish. No flashy display of energy. Just… stillness. An oppressive, absolute confidence that cracked through the soul like gravity.

He planted his staff into the earth beside him.

“These children are under my protection,” he said. “If you want to die, come at me.”

The silence was suffocating.

The second Knight bowed, sweat lining his brow despite the chill. “We… We will report none of this. We beg you—please act as though you saw nothing.”

Arthur’s gaze didn’t soften. “Then go. Before I change my mind.”

Without another word, the two Holy Knights raised their hands. Wind exploded from beneath them—cyclonic, howling. Their white cloaks snapped violently as they ascended into the sky, rising fast until they vanished above the treeline, swallowed by the storm they conjured.

As the last whisper of their departure faded, the tension left Sky’s body all at once. The pain, the fatigue—everything crashed down. His eyes rolled back, and he crumpled to the ground, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

“Sky! Sky, please!” Taigami cried, dropping beside him. His voice cracked, trembling with fear. “Please, don’t leave me! Say something!”

He gripped Sky’s tunic with shaking hands, tears spilling freely now, mixing with the crimson staining Sky’s chest.

“He’s my last family! Please!”

Arthur Leonheart looked down at them both.

And said nothing—for now.