A Gorgeous White

A flame sparks inside the dim cage. Moulin's eyes narrowed. His feet are swift despite the fatigue, sprinting across the desolate earth and jumping over the fractures of the soil. Moulin felt like he had never run so fast. The air smelled dead, and the wind rushed past his ear. He could hear the exchange of blows behind him and the violent mana reverberating around his body. His body emerged through smoke, wisps lingering on his clothes, dissipating immediately as he moved.

  He had to reach the niche first.

"Tsk…" Alha glowered, hissing. As he flexed his back, a deep wound ran across his spine and bled out. The pain was brief as the skin attached itself together, gluing every cell back to the way it was. However, the burning pain remains, scorching his flesh inside and out.

Whoosh!

Alha quickly evaded the dark sword aiming to carve out every piece of him until not even bones were left. His bare feet scraped the ground as he, too, slashed towards the maddening man. But he was too quick. The golden-eyed lord was behind him in the next second, and Alha could barely avoid the swing. The blade grazes the side of his neck, slicing a bit of flesh.

He's like a phantom. Untouchable and cruel. Furious.

The scent of revenge from him is deliriously strong. His emotions are kept at bay, yet it rages continuously. Alha is threatened.

"Your master must be desperate."

Alha's eyes glowed sharply, and he whipped his head towards the man in the distance. He sees Hadrian, tall and unyielding, looking down at him as though he was nothing but an insect. The words made Alha wary.

Hadrian flicked the few drops of blood from his weapon and raised his head. "To send you here… he must feel wretched. He… will not succeed."

Rage pulsed through his veins. Alha sneered. "We shall see…."

The golden lord coldly raised his weapon.

Boom!

Moulin flinched as he ran. The shockwave that came almost threw him off balance. He ducks under a falling tree, never stopping, feeling his heels dig in the soil, unlatching in a split second. Finally, he sees it—the recessed wall in the distance. For a moment, it looked as though he could reach it with a stretched hand. Moulin felt his palms sweat. He crossed the last rift on the ground with labored breaths, feeling a brief sense of victory.

Snap!

"Agh!"

Something firm grabbed his ankle, and Moulin landed hard on his front. An explosion of pain erupted from his temple. He groaned dizzily. More scrapes marred his arms. Fortunately, the seed within his hand was unharmed. When he looked back, he cursed through gritted his teeth.

Dark clawed hands emerged from the ground and seized his foot, gripping it tightly as it aimed to crush his bones. Moulin tried to pull it free from its grasp, but more limbs appeared beside it. One by one, it held his leg and began dragging him towards the crack in the earth, big enough to swallow him whole. They took his other leg.

Moulin's blood boiled. One thing after another. There was always something that kept him from reaching his goal.

When he felt his energy drained away, Moulin began kicking them off, moving his body as hard as possible to loosen their grip. It wasn't long before the sharp claws plunged themselves into Moulin's calf.

"AAGH!"

They twisted into his flesh to carve out the meat from his bones. Agonizing pain sprang from his legs, and Moulin was almost tempted to give up.

Farther away from his location, a certain man paused briefly in the middle of the battle. His cold, menacing eyes flashed, and he glanced at his side for a second. Before him, a sinister smirk was plastered on the demon's bloodstained face. His grin would cause anyone to shiver in fear.

His right arm hangs limp. His bones began snapping in place. However, his wounds started to heal slowly. Alha's eyes are wide and baleful.

"He's offering himself to the snake's mouth." Alha grinned, "Please, if you desire it, go, and save your dearest. Otherwise, he wouldn't last a minute. All drained and helpless."

A blizzard-like cold layered his golden pupils. His expression became darker by the second. The change only amused Alha more.

"You underestimate him…." Hadrian says.

Crackles of electricity surrounded the air, and the temperature dropped significantly. A golden hue devoured the dark shades of his blade, glistening like a river of gold under sunlight.

Alha's smile fell, and his expression turned cold and wary. He draws back slightly, cautious of the sudden shift in the air.

Moulin abruptly stopped. His eyes are wide as he feels a strong pull within the golden bond of his soul. His mana is depleted. However, he forgot a crucial thing. If he falls, Hadrian will come and provide… as he always does.

Moulin wanted to laugh, but the pain made was too distracting. He closed his eyes.

…

Crackle!

Moulin opened his eyes. Golden pupils are exposed. Bright and perilous. A burning sensation coursed through his veins. Ferocity startles him back to life.

The next thing he knew, the limbs grasping his legs were burnt into cinders, twitching until they disintegrated. Fierce energy coated his body, and although the pain was there, he rose from the ground, shocked and enlightened.

Hadrian mana is quite… vigorous.

The seed within his palm tingled, and Moulin's expression turned grave. Without a moment to think, he rushed towards the niche, heels kicking off the ground.

Alha's expression turned distorted. His rage was no longer concealed. Gazing past Hadrian's shoulder, he seethed. "Enough of this."

He vanished before Hadrian. The lord's eyes narrowed, and with a flash, he disappeared, chasing Alha.

Moulin's eyes widened in alarm as he felt a fast-approaching presence behind him. His pace only quickened.

BANG!

Blood spurted out Alha's mouth as a fist drove through his stomach. His eyes are wide, nearly bulging. Hadrian's murderous countenance was so close to his face. Golden eyes are brimming with the intention to kill.

Flash!

Suddenly, they were in the air—a hundred feet above the devastated earth. Alha only had a second to blink before the fist dislodges itself from his innards, and a powerful kick plunges him to the ground with a bang.

The earth trembled from the force. A giant crater further wrecked the ruined ground.

Alha is buried several feet below, unmoving like a lifeless doll. However, the golden lord wasn't finished. He appeared before the demon, the golden sword within his hand pointed at the center of the Alha's thick neck, pulsing with life.

Ancient blood…

Alha mentally laughed.

Seeing the infuriating look in those red eyes, Hadrian's expression turned darker. Not even killing this creature a thousand times would satisfy his anger. If he could, if the heavens would cater to his every will, he would tear this worthless piece of trash over and over and murder every single person this thing holds dear.

To suffer a fate much worse than death.

"Haha…ha…" Alha spat out a laugh. "Vengeance is indeed… fearsome. My master… would praise you… "

"…"

Blood-red eyes narrowed. "Ah… but wrath born from misery … is much more… beautiful."

A foreboding feeling sank in Hadrian's mind. He glances at his hand.

Snap!

......…

Moulin panted. He could no longer contain the mana seeping out of the bond. His eyes returned to the beauteous silver it possessed, and slowly, fatigue came like a giant wave. The next several steps were already painful. His limbs were trembling, but he forced himself to keep going. If he wanted to pass out, it better happen right after restoring the core.

'Come on, just a little bit more!'

Moulin crosses the withered ground. The pungent scent of rot and death fills his mind. He is devastated at the sight. It tore his heart into pieces. What was once a harmless and serene paradise was now ruined, contaminated by darkness.

Moulin reaches the niches. His heart pounded erratically, and his steps unconsciously slowed down, fatigue created dark patches in his vision, but he persisted.

His hand reached towards the wall. Fingertips yearning for a touch. Ah, he was very tired.

Suddenly, there is a tight grip on Moulin's arm.

The alarm comes late.

Moulin hastily turned his head and froze in his place, meeting those monstrous blood-red eyes and the sick grin on the demon's face. His heart thudded, and every hair on his skin rose. The fear and shock riddle him stiff like stone.

Alha is staring at him, one eye bruised and barely opened. His saber is nowhere to be seen, and he was as filthy as a pig rolling in mud. The wounds on his body are healing slowly.

Moulin didn't sense him come near him, or was he too distracted to notice?

But most of all, where was Hadrian?

Moulin paled.

"Wondering about your beloved?" Alha tilted his head and tugged Moulin's arm with a crushing grip. Moulin almost cries out.

The demon tilts his head, staring straight into Moulin's confused gaze with dark eyes. "I put him in his place… Now, it is your turn."

'No…'

He was so close. So close to finishing everything…

No, this cannot be the end. Moulin twisted his arm with the little strength he had left. However, he's nothing compared to the power of his captor. And Moulin was already too depleted. A sliver of mana remains coated around his core, and he despaired at his hopelessness.

"Submit and succumb to your fate." Alha's grip tightens. "Hand it to me…."

The seed within Moulin's palm tingled. He closed his fist around it tightly in fear of being snatched away.

"Be obedient, little vessel." The vile creature spoke softly, yet his voice was filled with threat. "Give it to me… or I will collect you in pieces."

"…"

Moulin paused. The numbness in him is spreading, and his mind revolves around recklessness. For a moment, he is deaf to the world, and he stares at the arm Alha grasps, restraining him. After a few seconds of silence and the fear vanished instantly.

Resolution filled his eyes. Secretly, he drained the mana, layering his core, and frost coated his tightly closed fist.

He lifted his gaze, "Fine…."

Alha squints his gaze, suspicious.

"You can have the pieces." Moulin declared.

Slash!

A frozen blade severed the limb in a split second. Red carved an arc in the air. The demon's eyes widened whilst the youth's were cold and unyielding.

Gravity pulled Moulin backward, and slender arms emerged from the niche's walls, swiftly pulling Moulin into the space.