Black Ice ✓ | Deathsworn #1

Chapter 36 ∞ Forbidden Weapons

A void appeared and space itself seemed to give way to us as we went. Instead of moonless night, on the other side, there was the scorching midday sun. The light passed through me and seemed to sear me a little. It probably might've been warm if the whole me was standing under it, but with just my vulnerable soul, I felt it to the degree that I would've gotten a sunburn if I could.

"Ah. I forgot the other side of this planet is actually sunrise," he muttered. "I should've remembered and pulled you away during the day. Then again, my power would be much weaker then back there, so it doesn't make a difference. It's really hard when you're so weak."

I wanted to berate him but held back in the end. "Is this Vertvalden?" I asked, looking around.

"It is. We can't last long, though. Only a few minutes tops," Amber told me.

A part of me expected this place to be in ruins. After all, Amber had reiterated how serious the issue was. Not to mention with all those refugees leaving their homes for a foreign continent, I expected it to be...much, much worse. What exactly was something so unbearable that could uproot a person from the place they had known for their whole life?

We continued navigating the crowded streets, taking in all it could offer. This wasn't a city. It was a small, secluded town at best. It had tall walls around the periphery with a watchtower on the side. The structures were small with slated, brick roofs and wide windows. People walked down dirt paths in a brocade of patterned weaves and colorful beads, tattoos dotting their arms and wrist.

I tried recalling how I saw my biological father of this life when he appeared last time, however, I didn't remember him sporting this manner of dressing. Neither did my mother. I was hoping we would teleport to the place where I was born to see them, but it seemed I was hoping for a little too much.

I was disappointed, but this was better than nothing.

Nevertheless, it was clear to me that the situation wasn't as bleak as it was supposed to be—or maybe we were just in those parts where the struggle wasn't as obvious. People were just resilient that way. They had a way of living through hell.

Especially these guys.

Amber spun around to look and nodded. His lips curved and his brows lifted ever so slightly. He seemed impressed. "This place is in a much better shape than I thought it would be, actually. I was expecting it to be devoured completely."

"No," I said. "If anything, it's a good thing this didn't happen to Erindal instead."

"Ho," a huff escaped his mouth as he looked over to me with a questioning smile. "What got you to say that?"

I shrugged. "People of Vertvalden are simply made for war. Their principles, culture, and discipline make them well-equipped and capable of holding down the fort. They're basically creatures of war," I told him. "In fact, why do you think they've managed to hold on for so long?"

"I guess I did underestimate them," he remarked, amused.

Having read up a bit on their culture and mannerisms, it wasn't at all that surprising to me. I didn't know a lot about Vertvalden and how their political sails were faring, but if the winds of turmoil were to hit Erindal now, it would be utter chaos. The struggles in that place was insane. Looking at how my mistresses were now even though they had only prodded a bit into the web, they were all already in such a dilemma.

I sensed a heavy air, and a familiar coldness blanketed the horizon. This coldness helped me draw in some energy to combat the scorching sun, made the heat a little more bearable. And while it was an advantage somewhat, I knew that didn't sound good. The balance of energies was definitely whacked up along these parts. Death was heavy. Its body coiled where it shouldn't be.