Chapter 63: Third Sense of Wyrm
Gurn’s eyes widened.
He brought his hands to his throat, trying to stem the flow of blood escaping from his wound. A hoarse gurgle escaped from his mouth, then he collapsed backward, his heavy body slumping onto the couch. His legs twitched for a few seconds in nervous spasms before going still.
Andromeda watched him die with no expression whatsoever.
"Shit... I lost my temper..."
But the crash she had made while opening the door had attracted attention.
The main door suddenly exploded, wooden debris flying in all directions. A dozen armored men burst into the room, their weapons drawn. Andromeda immediately recognized them by their insignia: the Sword Clan.
At their head walked a tall and slender man, his short blond hair, a thin rapier in hand. His blue eyes sparkled with a dangerous gleam as he scanned the room, counting the corpses of the Shadow clan’s chi users, then finally stopping on Andromeda.
"Well, what do I see here," said Markus with a honeyed smile. "Isn’t that the servant of my friend Daemon~ ?"
Andromeda felt anger rise in her, hot and bitter. She gripped the hilt of her blade, her knuckles whitening from the effort. "You!" she spat, her jaws clenched.
Markus laughed softly, caressing the blade of his rapier with his fingertips. "You are a real pain, you know. I have been looking for you everywhere. The Sword Clan put a fortune to find you." He gestured behind him, indicating the five second sense chi users accompanying him. "But here we are, we found you."
He lunged toward her, the tip of his blade aiming for her heart.
Andromeda immediately countered, her black blade meeting Markus’s in a clash of steel that sent sparks flying.
"Third Sense of Wyrm : Domain of the Serpents," she murmured while releasing her chi.
Immediately, a wave of reddish and viscous Chi emanated from her body, spreading across the floor like hundreds of invisible reptiles. The atmosphere of the room suddenly became heavy, saturated with a murderous intent so dense that it seemed to stifle the resonance of the surrounding Chi.
The Sword Clan’s chi users stumbled, disoriented by the sudden pressure bearing down on them. Their movements became heavy, their attacks clumsy.
Markus, however, had already activated his second sense. A flow of chi emanated from his body, enveloping him in a protective aura. He propelled himself forward, his rapier slicing through the air. Andromeda dodged, feeling the tip brush against her clothes.
Markus used his chi to increase his speed, appearing and disappearing in a game of shadows and light flashes. His attacks were fast, precise, each movement calculated to pierce her defense.
But Andromeda remained calm. She read Markus’s movements with a clarity bordering on prescience. Every time he attacked, she was already elsewhere, her black blade tracing defensive arcs that deflected the blows.
One of Markus’s guards, thinking he could take advantage of an opening, threw himself at her with a heavy sword. Andromeda did not even bother to use her weapon. She pivoted on her axis, avoiding the blade by a millimeter, and used the palm of her hand to send a discharge of pure Chi into the attacker’s shoulder.
It was the ability of the Third Sense of Wyrm: the projected energy acted not only as a shockwave but distorted the very structure of the opponent’s body.
Under the impact, the guard’s shoulder twisted at an impossible angle. The flesh and muscles coiled in on themselves, deforming the limbs in an abnormal way.
The horrible crunch of bones breaking and grinding under the effect of the energy distortion could be heard. The man screamed in pain, his arm now hanging like a twisted strip of meat.
Markus, seeing his subordinate mutilated, roared with anger and intensified his assaults. "You will pay for that, monster!" he shouted while attempting a thrust aimed at the heart.
Andromeda blocked the rapier with the flat of her black blade, then, in a fluid movement, she seized Markus’s wrist.
She emitted a new discharge of Chi. Markus, thanks to his high-level training, managed to pull his arm back at the last moment, but the muscles of his forearm contracted violently, leaving bluish necrosis marks on his skin.
The other chi users tried to take advantage of the fight, but Andromeda did not give them time.
She struck the first one with an open palm on the chest, releasing a chi discharge that deformed his limbs in an abnormal way. The man screamed, his arms and legs twisting into impossible angles before he collapsed.
The second tried to strike her from behind, but Andromeda pivoted and repeated the gesture, her palm striking his shoulder. The joint dislocated and the man collapsed screaming.
The others hesitated, their eyes wide at the power of the Third Sense of Wyrm ability. Markus took advantage of this hesitation to retreat, his rapier still pointed at her.
"We will meet again Blood Moon!"
Andromeda did not want to prolong this fight. She had obtained what she had come for.
"You can always run, Markus," she said in a calm voice. "I will come find you when the time comes..."
Markus retreated further, his eyes fixing hers with cold hatred. "We will meet again, Blood Moon. And next time, I will not be alone."
Andromeda turned her back on him, knowing he would not dare attack. She crossed the room by stepping over the corpses, pushed open the dilapidated door and disappeared into the hallway.
...
She crossed several districts, taking care to change direction regularly to shake off any potential pursuers. Finally, she arrived in the eighth district, a more modest and less monitored area than the others.
She spotted a small inn at the corner of a street. The place seemed discreet enough to go unnoticed. She pushed open the door and approached the counter where an old gray-haired man was reading a newspaper.
"A room for the night," she said while placing a few coins on the counter. "And a meal for later, please."
The old man looked up, examined her quickly, then nodded without asking questions. He handed her a rusty key and pointed to the stairs. "Room number seven, at the end of the hallway. The meal will be brought up in one hour."
Andromeda took the key and climbed the creaking stairs. The room was small but clean, with a narrow bed, a bedside table and a window overlooking an inner courtyard. She locked the door, placed her blade within reach, then lay down on the bed without even removing her clothes.
She was not really physically tired but her mind was exhausted.
’I hope I won’t have to kill anyone else...’
She closed her eyes, hoping for just a few hours of rest before deciding on her next move. As soon as her head touched the pillow she sank into a deep sleep.
...