Under the Oak Tree - Time Before You

38 Remorse

But I don't want you here.

Memories of that day came crashing on her like a tsunami. Just like that, the fortified gates built over two centuries to oppress her remorse, pain and misery crumbled down in a second. Maximillian stared flabbergasted at the scene unfolding before her. Her eyes reddened as she tried to process the overwhelming emotions all at once – her exhaustion from the battle, the wretched sight of Elliot, the conflicted feelings of relief and dread about his arrival. It was as if someone had peeled off all the scabs formed over her cardiac muscle to repeatedly stab her again with a knife.

"Idiots, get him!"

But overall visibility was poor. The night was still dark and the harsh winter wind had blown smoke over from the burning battlefield. As her attention was with Elliot Charon and Richt Breston, it was only when the latter cursed that she noticed what was happening around them. One by one, the mages surrounding her started to collapse. There was no warning, sound or movement to tell what was going on. All they could see was the aftermath of what caught the mages; fresh blood spilling from their necks as their bodies crumbled to the ground as a black mass of cloak.

Petrified, the mages started to break their attack formation. Their spells on Maximillian ceased, as each one desperately tried to save themselves instead. Yet they could not see who or where the attacker was coming from amidst the shadow.

"What are you idiots doing?!"

Breston barked at his comrades, his teeth gnashing with rage. He kicked Elliot aside but not before shooting into the latter's chest in close range. The sergeant immediately spat out blood, over in pain.

"Elliot!"

Maximilian screamed and scrambled towards the man. Tears started to flow uncontrollably as she checked for Elliot's vitals. A soft sigh escaped her lips. Thank God. Breston had missed the organs. While his heartbeat was rather weak, it still ran steady. She immediately administered healing magic, even though a modern hospital was really needed instead.

"Motherfucker, show yourself!"

Like a rabid werewolf who became uncontrollable under moonlight, Breston howled and started to shoot into the dark. The sound of bullets emptying relentlessly from his magazine resonated into the night sky. His mages dropped dead like flies, each powerless against the attacks as they came even before their defence shield could be up. Eventually, all ten of them were on the ground. Some of their throats were slit in cold blood, while the others were shot by the thoughtless bullets.

"Come on out!"

Breston roared again. His entire body was shaking in anger. Fuelled by formidable Sepharim blood, the sight of such a burly physique raging was a terrifying sight to behold.

"Or I'll shoot this bitch."

Maximillian looked up to find a gun barrel pointed at her head. She clenched her fist in response. Even though the man was a distance away, she might not have magical reflexes fast enough to dodge if he were to shoot. Moreover, her magic was now focused on healing the sergeant. She was ready to die, but only after ensuring that Elliot survived.

"You wouldn't."

A baritone voice finally replied.

From the shadows, a tall dark and intimidating presence emerged. His face was fully concealed by a matte black ballistic helmet with military night goggles, while his muscular build was armoured by a black tactical suit. In his right hand was a fighting knife, with fresh blood still dripping from its pointed blade.

"A coward to hide in the shadows, don't you think?"

Breston scoffed and spat on the ground. His voice showed no fear, even though the man had just wiped out his entire circle of mages.