Chapter 237: Fear Of Destiny

Marcus was the captain of Kilmir’s Outer Night Watch, and he was also the knight who had invited Elias to Berlic’s inauguration ceremony.

At present, however, he was struggling to survive against a Rusted Reaper.

The pale monster towered over him, its skeletal body covered in patches of rotting flesh and rusted armor. Its elongated arms ended in curved, scythe-like blades that swung relentlessly toward Marcus. Each time he raised his sword to block, the impact drove him backward, sending sparks across the ruined street.

His sword had already begun to chip.

Marcus gritted his teeth and braced himself as another strike descended. The Rusted Reaper’s right scythe slammed against his blade, forcing his arms down, while its left arm swept toward his side.

He twisted at the waist and narrowly avoided being cut in half, but the movement left him off balance. The monster followed with another sweeping attack, its blade scraping across the cobblestones as Marcus hurriedly retreated.

"Sir Marcus," Elias called from nearby. "Would you like me to help you?"

Marcus glanced toward him, confusion briefly crossing his face.

"Lord Elias?"

He had recognized the young noble, but the offer made little sense to him. As far as Marcus knew, Elias had only recently begun showing signs of talent. He certainly had not expected him to be capable of helping against a monster that was pushing an experienced knight to his limits.

The Rusted Reaper lunged again before Marcus could ask anything further.

Marcus tightened his grip on his sword and met the attack head-on. He caught the monster’s right scythe against his blade, then stepped forward and drove his boot into its abdomen.

The impact forced the pale creature backward.

It slid several steps across the broken street, its claws carving shallow grooves into the stone before it regained its balance. The Rusted Reaper lowered its body and charged once more, its scythe-like arms spreading apart as it prepared to tear Marcus to pieces.

Elias moved before it could reach him.

Crimson Aura surged around his body, forming a dense layer that shimmered like solidified blood. He swept his arm toward the monster, releasing a concentrated wave of pressure that struck its side.

The Rusted Reaper was lifted off its feet.

Its body flew across the street and crashed into the wall of a ruined building. Stone blocks broke apart beneath the impact, and a cloud of dust burst outward as the creature slumped into the debris.

Marcus stared at the scene, his eyes widening.

"What was that?" he asked in astonishment.

Elias continued pressing the monster with his Aura, preventing it from rising immediately.

"That is a part of the power I can lend you," he replied. "If you are willing to accept my offer."

Marcus blinked several times, trying to understand what he had just witnessed.

"How...?"

Elias shook his head.

"How, why, when, and what, none of those questions matter as long as we are here."

Marcus fell silent.

The Rusted Reaper groaned from beneath the broken stones, then forced itself upright. Its pale body trembled as it dragged one scythe across the ground, preparing to attack again.

Marcus turned toward it.

His damaged sword was still in his hand, and his arms ached from the repeated impacts. He knew that if the monster continued fighting, he would eventually be overwhelmed. Yet the power Elias had displayed was far beyond anything he had expected from the young noble.

Marcus took a breath and raised his sword.

"I am willing," he said.

The next moment, the Rusted Reaper’s body exploded.

Crimson Aura crushed it from within, tearing its flesh and rusted armor apart before it could take another step. Bits of the monster scattered across the street, while the force of the destruction sent dust and fragments of stone rolling beneath Marcus’s boots.

He stood motionless, staring at the remains.

His eyes were wide as saucers.

"D-Did you do that?" he asked, turning toward Elias.

Elias nodded.

"I did."

Marcus looked at Elias’s face, then at the ruined monster. The young noble’s expression remained calm, as though destroying a Rusted Reaper had been no more difficult than brushing dust from his clothes.

"We need to find the City Lord—" Marcus began.

"He is dead," Elias interrupted. "I executed him."

Marcus froze.

For several seconds, he could only stare at Elias, unable to decide whether he had heard correctly.

Berlic Draveon was the City Lord of Kilmir, a powerful noble with authority over the city and the strength of an Exalted swordsman. Yet Elias had just said he had killed him.

Marcus lowered his sword.

"I see," he said quietly.

He remained silent for a moment before pointing the tip of his sword toward the ground and kneeling before Elias.

"I am willing to follow your command, Lord Elias."

Elias smiled and gestured toward the street.

"Then let us go."

They continued through the ruined city, helping survivors and gathering anyone capable of fighting. Along the way, they encountered several city guards, knights, and frightened residents who were searching for a way to survive.

Some joined Elias after witnessing his strength, while others followed Marcus because they trusted the captain of the Outer Night Watch. As their group grew, the weaker monsters became little more than obstacles. Any creature below the Exalted rank struggled to remain standing before them for more than a minute.

Stella watched the battles with growing excitement.

Whenever Elias crushed a monster or sent one flying into a ruined building, she leaned forward with shining eyes, eager to see what would happen next.

Natasha, however, remained nervous.

She stayed close to Elias, holding his hand whenever the streets became crowded or the distant sounds of monsters grew louder. Even when he reassured her, her gaze continued searching the ruins, as though she expected another creature to emerge from the shadows.

Elias understood her fear, but he could not afford to stop.

Monica was still somewhere within the dungeon, and every passing moment made him more anxious.

Eventually, their group consisted of five knights, including Marcus, with two of them being Exalted. They were accompanied by eight city guards and nearly twenty citizens who had gathered supplies and weapons along the way.

Although the group was not large enough to protect the entire city, it was strong enough to establish a temporary foothold.

They found a settlement formed around several ruined buildings and began searching for anything useful. Some residents gathered food and water, while others collected weapons, cloth, and materials that could be used to reinforce the damaged structures.

Elias called the knights and guards together once they had settled in.

"We need to understand how to leave this hidden dungeon," he said.

The group quieted, turning their attention toward him.

"The method is simple. We need to imprint a Riftstone with the blood of a monster from this place."

Several people exchanged uncertain glances.

"Riftstones?" one of the guards asked.

"You can find them near the border of the hidden dungeon," Elias explained. "There should be plenty of them."

The knights listened carefully as he continued.

"Once we have enough Riftstones, we can begin preparing for our departure. Until then, we need to keep everyone alive and gather whatever supplies we can."

Marcus nodded.

"Understood."

Elias looked over the gathered fighters and divided them into two groups.

"Each group will be led by one of the Exalted knights, with another knight serving as support. Assign three guards to each group as well. Their task is to search the surrounding ruins, gather supplies, and locate Riftstones."

The two Exalted knights acknowledged his instructions.

"The remaining knight and two guards will stay here and protect the citizens," Elias continued. "Do not take unnecessary risks. If you encounter something you cannot handle, retreat and report back."

"Yes, Lord Elias," they answered.

After the meeting ended, the groups began preparing for their tasks. The citizens continued sorting through the supplies, while Marcus spoke with the knights about their routes and the dangers they might encounter.

Elias watched them for a moment before turning toward Natasha.

She was sitting near the edge of the settlement, her hands folded in her lap. Although the immediate danger had lessened, the fear had not left her. Her shoulders remained tense, and her gaze wandered toward the ruined streets.

Elias walked over and sat beside her.

For a while, he simply looked at her face, taking in the unease she was trying to hide. Natasha noticed his gaze and turned toward him, but before she could ask what was wrong, he gently lifted her and settled her onto his lap.

He wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

[Do not worry. Everything will be fine.]

Natasha placed a hand on his arm.

[I am scared.]

Elias rested his chin on her shoulder and asked gently, [Of the monsters?]

[No... of destiny.]

He frowned, turning his attention fully toward her as she continued.

[Whenever I have been truly happy, the world itself has made me feel the price of it...]

[First my parents, then Sarina, who was no different than a mother to me. Then the failed ritual, and now this... I cannot help but fear that the world is trying to take something from me once again.]

Elias finally understood why she was so frightened and nervous. It was not the monsters lurking in the ruined streets or the uncertainty of escaping the dungeon. Natasha had endured too many losses whenever she had found something precious to cherish. Now, even in a moment when she was safe in his arms, she feared that happiness itself would invite another tragedy.

He moved a hand to her face and gently turned her toward him, making sure she looked into his eyes.

[I know you have lost a lot,] he said sincerely. [But I will not allow that to happen anymore. I will not let destiny, fate, or the world take anything from us.]

Natasha’s eyes trembled. Tears gathered at their edges, and she lowered her head against his chest.

Elias tightened his embrace, holding her as though he could shield her from every cruel thing that had ever happened, and every cruel thing that might still come.