"You speak the truth, Kurogane; however, this does not cleanse you of your sins against the world today."
Vaelmyr growled deep, his eyes locked on the black-haired man who sat across the room from him.
"It does not."
The swordsman responded without hesitation, his eyes fixated on the man.
"Therefore, as repentance for my acts today, I will forfeit the tournament and return to the Sea of Polar Storms to serve out a year of exile."
At the farthest end of the table, Lispentine shot up from his seat, his eyes wide with confusion and betrayal.
"What did you say…?"
He didn't have time to add to his comment as Masaru continued onward, much to the dismay of all spectators.
"In addition, I will not act on orders from either the Hunters' Guild or the Association unless they are within that sea."
The two Kings looked at each other for a moment before the purple-haired one let out a heavy sigh, his hand rubbing his beard slowly.
"We do not require you to—"
The swordmaster continued, interrupting Lepaie without any respite and disregarding his authority once again.
"Today I have committed a sin of the grandest extent. If not for my responsibilities and the further death it would cause, I would've slit my own throat on that battlefield to atone for the carnage that was a result of my unsheathing of the Gates of Heaven."
The white-haired man shook his head in disbelief, his fingers rubbing his eyes at the sudden prospect of a Marshal's exile.
"You understand what this means, yes?"
The King of Dreams spoke in a hushed tone, his gaze stone cold.
"I do."
Rising from his seat, the Swordsman of the South walked around the table the long way, grazing Aaron's shoulder with his hand.
Not daring to do the same with Maria Elaris, he made his way over towards the guildmaster, who looked unusually displeased.
Without saying a word, the black-haired man unclipped his diamond-clad Hunter's badge denoting him as a Marshal and placed it on the table in front of the president.
Alex Lispentine stared at it for a moment before reaching out to touch its cool yet rough surface that glistened in the dim lamplight.
"If you wish to go into exile, then it will be done…"
The golden-haired man sighed, his fingers grasping the seal tightly as he retracted it back to his suit pocket, where he slipped it in slowly.
Nodding to his boss, Masaru continued around the table, where he stood face to face with both Lepaie Quinn and Vaelmyr Droskyn.
Holding out his hand without delay, he watched as the two men exchanged glances, their own grips soon following.
Taking a deep breath, the swordsman broke away from the two powerhouses, instead, turning his attention towards the ever-silent woman.
"Your Holiness."
He tipped his head slightly.
"I sincerely request that you do not hold this incident against the Hunters' Guild, for this was a result of my actions and them alone. If you wish for me to face trial in the Holy Capital for my crimes, then that would be an acceptable penalty for me to accept."
His black eyes turned upwards as he waited for the woman's response, her hands fervently writing away at the paper.
Handing the sheet of white paper scribbled on with ink to Aaron beside her, his turquoise eyes scrolled over it, his head nodding slowly.
"There is no possible way for you to have known about that creature who once wreaked havoc on the cosmos. In times long past…"
The blond-haired boy paused, seemingly doing a double-take at the words written before continuing again with hesitation.
"In times long past, I encountered that monstrous beast in the cracks between dimensions, and it nearly rendered me incapable of reincarnation. I do not approve of your methods in the arena; however, the deaths related to its appearance were to be expected upon its true form being revealed to the world once again."
There was a heavy silence that descended over the room, the gazes of two Sea Kings, a Marshal, and the guildmaster all falling on Aaron.
Of course, their true curiosity and confusion were directed towards the blonde-haired woman clad in white, the unforeseen confession of her previous encounter leaving the chamber stunned.
"Y-you faced that creature when it was alive?"
The King of Souls, a man not commonly left speechless, stared starstruck at the Angel before him, her ancient roots so vast that he couldn't properly grasp them.
For one brief moment, a thought crossed his mind that was so absurd that he couldn't comprehend it, an idea that deepened a pit of shame growing in his chest.
Would I be able to walk away alive from that terror?
Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he heard Masaru Kurogane speak aloud again, his head bowed low.
"Thank you for your grace, Your Holiness."
As the pontiff nodded her head in response, the black-haired swordsman turned away, his pointed finger just barely touching the door before he turned back.
"Aaron Grimstall."
The blond-haired boy's ears perked up, his face going pale at the sudden gazes that burned into his skull.
"Come find me in the Sea of Polar Storms if you wish me to train you. I understand that you do not wish to disregard Ms. Buckley as a teacher; however, my offer still stands. If you could gain an artifact to enter the World Between through the Vault of Nautilus, then that would make the trip far more manageable. I do recall a couple of those in there…"
Finally, he turned the knob, the light of the outside filling the back closet they had made into a conference room.
The black-haired man tipped his head one final time, winking at the blond boy who sat in a dazed state.
Then, he left without another word, the room falling silent upon his exit, with the conversation gone and the mood left in a strange, confused rhythm.
…
Aaron stood outside the colosseum with a pale expression written across his face, the long and expansive meeting draining his very essence.
I don't have time for these boring talks…
The slight pinch in his heart marking the loss of lifespan made him grimace; however, as he walked the busy roads of the sub-city, he didn't say a word.
Dodging large crowds that almost certainly knew of his identity, he leaped from roof to roof with his mechanical limb, the fresh breeze of the sea washing over his nose as he reached the main bridge.
Finally…
As the city was split into fragmented zones through the branching rivers that tore through the island, there were, of course, various bridges that were spread across such gaps.
Yet, for the recent addition of where the colosseum had been built, the transportation hubs were overcrowded due to the fact that they were small size.
At that time, the idea of a stadium the size of the current one was a mere novelist's dream; however, when it had been constructed, the builders rushed to build more bridges.
Without money and with only minimal resources left, they were forced to rely on the already ancient wooden structures that connected both sides of the city together.
I wonder if I could swim across the river…
Pondering the idea to himself, he continued his ascended flight through the cityscape, only stopping to rest when his mana was nearly at a breaking point.
On one of those stoppages, a sudden thought occurred to him that left him slightly nervous and uneasy.
Penelope is sealed off temporarily, and the Old Man is out of commission… How am I supposed to get information now?
The ancient duo was the best source of information throughout likely the entire universe, disregarding the gods, yet, as the blond-haired boy was struggling with a loss of lifespan, the gazes of Kings and deities, and even the possible descent of a demigod, they were nowhere to be found.
Just my luck that they—
His eyes barely had time to process the sudden black blur that clouded them in an instant, and his entire body was snatched up without any hesitation and was moved swiftly.
Thick, hairy arms wrapped around his waist, the air around him slamming against his eyes and nose, preventing him from deep and meaningful breaths.
Aaron's vision was blurry, and his head spun with pain; his mana was too weak to summon Ocean's Bane to his side, and his magic was too primitive to cast any spells.
Kicking his metallic leg backwards into a shin, he prepared another strike into the kidnapper's groin, yet only a second later, he felt his body collide against the ceramic tile that covered the roof.
H-he let me go?
Not wasting a moment, he leaped backwards, tapping his ring and summoning an incredibly weak projection of his blade that would allow him to put up some of a fight.
The black shadow that had grabbed him was garbed in a hood and mask, its white hand reaching up slowly to take it off.
"What a weak display!"
Tossing the mask from his face, a silver-bearded elder appeared at once, his orange eyes glistening in the evening sun.
Aaron's jaw instantly dropped, the sight of a familiar face stunning him completely.
I-It can't actually be…
"Well? Aren't you going to ask why your favorite member of the Thorn Guard kidnapped you today?"
Don Urude, the over one hundred year old elder, stood tall ahead of the boy, his hands toying with a club that he had only unholstered moments before.
"Hmmm…? No response? Oh well…"
He paused, taking a moment to think before speaking again.
"We're going on an adventure together!"