ACT ONE / on the run

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<EDITED ON JANUARY 29>

(the sketch above is an old armor concept that applies for female readers. male/enby readers...at least the rapier looks cool--)

as you are a holy knight in this, i've taken the liberty of providing you with a sample of what your armor and weapon look like. it's a rough sketch and probably shitty, but...meh. you're welcome to change it to whatever you want :)

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With a furious exchanging of blows, you easily disarmed your opponent. She lost her footing and fell to the ground, her sword falling to the ground next to her. You kept the tip of the rapier on the Holy Knight Apprentice's neck with an easy-going smile. She almost seemed resentful, her gaze growing dark, but she smoothed her expression over quickly.

"You're improving fast. I am very impressed," you said, sheathing your weapon and reaching out to help her up. "You still keep too much emphasis on your form. When you are in battle, no opponent will stop and praise you for that. You must allow yourself to change and adapt."

The Apprentice nodded and dipped her head in a show of respect, purple hair falling in front of her face. You clapped her on the shoulder and walked past her, pushing into the city.

Liones looked beautiful at this time of day. The sun rising up in the east made it seem as though the city was a painting. People were starting to come out of their homes, setting up market stalls and heading to their various jobs. They nodded at you respectfully as you passed, and you returned the gesture.

Although you weren't a Great Holy Knight like the likes of Hendrickson and Dreyfus, many knew you to be almost as powerful as them, maybe even stronger. Even without the fancy title, you understood how much both the town and the Holy Knights respected you; you tried your best to assist wherever you may be needed, and trained those who asked. You still didn't know yourself if it was out of duty or simple kindness, but neither would stop you from continuing.

You walked into the castle, and as you turned the corner, you saw Hendrickson heading in the same direction. You grinned and hurried to catch up to him. A greeting died on the tip of your tongue, though, as he disappeared through a door on your right. You had never known what was behind there, as you had no reason to find out, but there was something about the look on Hendrickson's face that made you wary of his intentions.

You followed behind him, making sure to be as silent as possible. The corridor was dark, no source of light to be seen. As you neared the bottom, you felt a horrid and familiar dark presence, akin to something merely of legends. A shiver shot down your spine and you fought back the urge to flee. If this turned out to be something truly dangerous, you could never forgive yourself if you left it alone.

The stairwell bottomed out into a large cavern. Hendrickson stood a few yards away, facing some sort of red gelatinous blob. He pulled out his sword and slashed at it. Purple liquid poured in rivulets from the open wound.

You clasped a hand over your mouth to stifle a gasp as you realized that the blob was a Red Demon. Your eyesight faltered as a distant memory arose, but you shoved it down in favor of focusing on the moment at hand. How had Hendrickson managed to get the corpse of one?

Hendrickson filled an elaborate wine glass with the demon's blood. He swirled the glass as though it were only wine, looking contemplative and even reluctant, but he soon downed the entire cup. Bile rose to your throat as Hendrickson dropped the glass and retched. Blood splattered the floor and steam followed soon afterward.

You slowly began to back up. Although you were strong, this wasn't something that you could handle on your own. You had to tell the King, or Dreyfus, or somebody that could help you.

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