Future of Calamity [Under Rewrite]

Chapter 37 - Pack Leader

Steel trekking aloft stone steps, Velvet immediately eyed the commotion reigning the front gate of Port Zekson. As the burning horizon sank underneath waves to accept the shadowed depths, the daemon overheard Eizen's hurried conversing with a serious Benwick; a pair of downed guards at his feet.

"You say he was using a pendulum?"

"Aye, sir! And he blasted all the inspectors! I think he'd be a match for even the captain."

"Thank you. I'll look into this for myself."

Not even a moment could pass for objection, before the Reaper dashed right through the unexplored exit, racing along the earth in earnest.

"Hold it," the daemoness ordered as she stepped close to the amassing group. Each member gathered at the sudden situation, carrying varied looks of quiet concern. "What's going on?"

A yawn, and next came the weary words from the half-malak at the side: great cloak abbraising his form still with the bristle of its fur shoulders. "Eizen's punching first and asking questions later, as usual."

She ignored Sarid's useless remark with a head shake, looking to the frowning Samurai who gazed down upon the battered and motionless guardsmen. Their chests rose and fell with slight tandem: showing them as unconscious yet alive. "The exorcist inspection team was attacked by a pendulum-wielding malak."

Benwick grimaced, "The same type of weapon was found at the place the captain vanished from."

"And so you think the attacker's the one that took the captain?" Velvet assumed from the side, a dismissive crook in her brow.

"I don't know," the pirate admitted, until his face fastened with tension, "But this can't be a coincidence!"

The ravenette's knuckle rested at her chin as she stood in thought, "Aifread is in the custody of exorcists. Why would they attack their own?"

"What will you do?" Magilou playfully pranced forth, arms resting behind her head as the Witch smirked. "One of your keys is running off."

"I'm going after him. If they're already in disarray, causing more confusion will only benefit us."

A sigh etched with irritation came with her as she turned to the exit, half-malak clicking his neck with a stretch. "Then, let's just catch up quickly, preferably before that malak gets turned into a pendulum-wielding donut."

As Velvet and a cloaked Sarid sprinted off through the gaping gates: having been thrust ajar by the forthright Reaper, Magilou cried out with fiendish joy; "Pandemonium! My favourite!" And soon after did the rest join their rush in the wake of the Reaper's ire.

As their steps rumbled the dirt slumbering beneath this malicious night, the darkness of twilight blanketed the skies above with the winking sun having fallen to its own rest. With the daemoness at the bow of their stampede, the sprinting Barloc on her heel and the group remnants not far behind; the clashing impact of rushing wind and pounded ground resounded amongst the plain. Under the shadow of the Empyrean's Throne erected beyond this field of cobbled paths, burrowed trenches, sloping hillsides and aged boulders; the group whisked about between a pair of great land to spot the wreckage.

Constructed between these carved dunes, was a decimated outpost of the assumed inspection team: their thoughtless bodies draped upon its chilling grassland and against spiked logs. And, in a brilliant duel that threaded the site, was their steadfast Reaper holding up a firm balled fist while another pinched his pocket, whereas the foe he battled glared back with a smug smirk. The winding thread of a gripped pendulum scored his poised palm brought to bare.

The mysterious malak had his palm clench, before the pendulum struck out to whisk the dark air, gracing emptiness as Eizen slipped under: wrenching his hand back into a massive winding blow. All it struck, was the dusted wake of the foe's evasion. With a tsk of annoyance, the pirate glowered at the swift bouncing of the mystery malakhim, as the pendulum slicked back into his palm with ease. "Well! You're good, whoever you are," the pendulum-wielding man complimented with an entertained grin, ochre stare alive with a gleam. The voice was cool and casual, passion in each word and bouncing inflections that revealed the malak's flippant attitude.