Standing under the blinding bright light of the sun, Moulin didn't feel the heat at all. Instead, what made him uncomfortable was the two gazes of the two people with him within the area. Admittedly, he felt the anticipated heat of their eyes, but he remained unfazed by the situation.
"Remove the marks..." Moulin peered at the elven oracle, Laphora, while he muttered. "Can it be done?" His words were directed to the man standing by his side. Moulin felt Hadrian's eyes upon his face, reading his expression.
"The power if those marks are unknowable. However, I trust that if it can be cast, then it can be removed." He slowly spoke as if to give Moulin the time to process his words carefully. The sunlight made his golden hair shine gloriously, making Moulin sneak a couple of glances at Hadrian.
"They can easily track you through the mana that man had placed upon you. Removing it as soon as possible heightens your safety." His golden eyes gazed deeply into those uncertain silver pupils.
With a soft look in his eyes, Hadrian whispers. "Trust me..."
Moulin trusts him. No one knew more about his situation than Hadrian. After a couple of seconds, the youth slowly nods his head. His eyes glanced at the oracle briefly. Although he was suspicious of the elven prophet, Moulin knew nothing would happen to him as long as Hadrian is here to accompany him.
Laphora sighs in relief. His actions don't escape Moulin's analyzing gaze.
Walking forward, Laphora requested Moulin to lift the sleeves of his left arm. With a dull expression, the youth slowly followed the elf's request and exposed the dark red marks staining his pale skin. It appeared as though it was moving, rolling like clouds on his pale flesh.
It was an ominous and strange sight.
"Corrupted mana..." Laphora gasped in alarm. There was a slight tremble on his fingers as he slowly touched the youth's skin. He felt it.
The marks were the work of a demon. There was no mistake. However, Demons have gone extinct for millennia. It was impossible. Perhaps the work of those demonic worshippers? But Laphora had never seen such a strange method of tracking and chaining someone like this.
"What is it?" Moulin asked when he noticed the fingers on his skin. There was something wrong with Laphora's expression.
"Tell me, what sort of person place this curse on you?" The oracle asked as he continued to trace the marks on the youth's skin with his fingertips as though he was drawing on it.
"He... "
Blood red eyes flashed inside Moulin's mind for a brief second, making him grimace. His voice became soft. "He had red eyes, a large horn at the center of his forehead. His skin was a deep gray, and he is quite a skillful fighter. Gave me a lot of trouble when he was chasing me..." Moulin furrowed his eyebrows while he recalled the scene back in the woods of Skilis.
"... A horn?" Laphora stopped. His mana copied his actions as well, stopping the transfer when its master paused. A crease appeared between his brows.
Moulin deciphered his expression secretly. Did he think it was a demon too? A creature with a horn, manipulating corrupted mana, would easily be identified as a demon as what the others would think. However, it couldn't be. Only high-ranking demons possessed a humanoid body, and they ultimately perished way before the Red War. Since then, no one had caught sight of these demons.
But the assumption was possible... What if some had survived?
"Finish it quickly."
Hadrian narrowed his eyes on Laphora while he stroked Moulin's back. The oracle lowered his head with an uncertain smile. The hand on Moulin's back was gentle and distracting, accomplishing the task of yanking Moulin out from his thoughts.
