ALL NOVEL Chapter-158 Wasted Effort
Drarith hailed them as its heroes, praising their valiance, and propped them up with the credit for victory. The city owed them its life, but they represented much more. Mortals could possess power that rivaled the Ashevas, the fact ignited hope in the fickle hearts.
They bowed because they were weak. They kneeled because they were powerless. Ashevas didn’t earn their respect. Instead, fear was the whip that kept them obedient and under control. Yet the advent of the blonde-armored soldiers stirred the status quo. And the voices of dissent against the Ashevas’ rule would soon follow.
“That logo seems familiar,” an Asheva said, staring at the two slanted laughing-masks emblem etched on the soldiers’ breastplates as they marched back.
“It should be the new church,” the Asheva with the sharp canine said. “Church of Smiles I think.”
“They could be hostile, we should prepare just in case,” Mize said.
“They seem to be on our side, for now at least.”
“They won too easily,” someone said.
“More like the enemy gave up too soon,” Trask said. “Those bodies, they’re mostly Kyrons, the enemy hardly lost any Ashevas.”
“So, this was what they were cooking,” a foreign Asheva said under his breath and his shoulders drooped. Ewan too heaved a sigh of relief and his tensed mind eased up; a weight came off his shoulders.
The Kyrons gaining power and the church rising in prevalence would challenge the Ensils’ reign of Drarith, it had nothing to do with rogue Ashevas like him. They lacked the roots, which meant they couldn’t get a constant supply of resources, but it also meant that nothing tied them down. They were free to come and go as they pleased. At best, the entity who could lift the Kyrons to his level had Ewan’s curiosity.
Actions had consequences, and power paid the price. Even the Ashevas with their inborn talent in soul or physique paid in some form to earn their strength, let alone these mortals whose path couldn’t go beyond the mundane.
“Bloody ingrates,” a native Asheva said, glancing at the foreign Ashevas.
“Self-entitled retard,” the young foreign Asheva retorted with a scoff.
“Look on the bright side,” Sheree said. “This means the war’s over.”
“At least for now,” someone replied.
“More than enough, I was getting tired of the bells ringing every morning,” Ewan said.
“You didn’t even fight much,” a foreign Asheva said. “Where were you anyway?”
“Fighting my own battles on order,” Ewan smiled at him and said.
“Weren’t you just resting in the back? Having connections sure is nice.”
“It really is,” Ewan chuckled.
“Enough,” Kiev said, looking daggers at the armored soldiers walking to him, and his vicinity hushed down.
The one in the lead broke off from his platoon, his armors clanking with each stride he took towards the Ashevas, and he first bowed to Ewan and then to Kiev. His straight spine, the slight smirk, his narrowed eyes, and his hand on his sword’s hilt lacked even the hint of deference in his second bow though.
“Sir Kiev,” he said. “We’re here to join your ranks, we’ll fight with you if they come back.”
“What’s your name?” Kiev asked.
“Nobert,” the man said. “I used to own a small restaurant on the ninth street, it got destroyed though.”
“Can you explain all this?”
“There’s nothing much to explain,” Nobert said with a smile. “My lord gave me the strength to defeat my enemies and I became his Paladin, that’s all.”
“Paladin?” Kiev asked. “Is that what you all are?”
“Indeed, we are the defenders of our lord,” Nobert said.
“Our lord needs no defense,” someone from his platoon hollered.
“Silence!” Nobert glared back, his nostrils flaring. “You will show some respect or prepare to get punished.”
“It’s fine.” Kiev scanned the platoons behind Nobert. The rowdy bunch barely maintained their formation; some were cackling, some were showing off the blood on their weapons to each other, while some were mocking the Ashevas before them. “I roughly got the picture,” Kiev said. “I didn’t expect it to get out of hand like this, I was too tolerant before.” He looked back at Ewan. “You were right, I should’ve listened,” he said.
Waves of spirit fluctuated around him, and Ewan backed off a step when he sensed it. This was Ensils versus the church of smiles with the ownership of Drarith as their prize, he didn’t need to get involved in it. And so did the others, especially the foreign Ashevas.
“I hope this teaches the rest of you,” Kiev said. “When facing someone you can't fathom, hide that conceit well and quiver in fear, and you just might survive.” He reached out for Nobert, and with a burst of Ryvia that stirred the wind, he crushed his head. Nobert’s helmet crumpled inwards, and his head imploded, splattering the blood and the mushy brain matter everywhere.
His body thudded on the ground amidst the pin-drop silence and raised a dust cloud, yet none of the ‘Paladins’ dared to cough or sneeze. Their postures tightened into a pole and their eyes wavered once again as their knees trembled; the dread that their borrowed power had washed away returned afresh.
An emaciated dog rushed out from the city, barking all the way, and came to the dead body. His whimpers and cries echoed on the quiet frontline as he nudged the man, but the dead wouldn’t move. He wailed and wailed, his tail and his breaths slowing down, and finally lay down beside the man, staring at him with his beady and wet eyes, and his chest gradually stopped moving—his death came to him by his choice.
Ewan clicked his tongue and took a deep breath to calm the annoyance in his heart. This was the man and the dog duo he saved for Avis. Yet, here they were, dying a meaningless death and wasting his effort. They both received a second life, but the man’s choices ruined both of them. If only he chose to live an honest life of a Kyron…
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