Captain Laerton Eman - Phoenix Flight

A few years ago…

Everyone's got a story. Each person is a main character of the life that they live and a side character in someone else's tale. The choice a person makes, the path they follow, the battles they choose to fight, or the words they say all shape not just their own story but those of everyone around them.

And, since everyone does have a story of their own, naturally, everyone also has a beginning to a story. A place where it all began for them. Maybe it is their birth, or maybe it is an event that occurred in their life, good or bad.

The origin of a person and when their story truly starts is always the most important part. At least, that's what Adam always thought. Throughout time, throughout space, throughout worlds like this and the last, he wandered, and he looked, and he lived, and he watched. He wrote, he cried, he begged, he died, he survived, he killed, he saved, he raged, and he accepted.

Yes.

Adam had seen many stories. Good, bad, mediocre. No matter how many times he walked the same path, no matter how many times it looped back around, no matter how many times the stars above went out and the universe let out a final whisper, no matter what, Adam never got bored of watching and reading and telling.

He loved people. Humans, elves, giants, dragons, demons, angels, saints, sinners, monsters, gods, and everything that history forgot about. He saw it all because someone should.

Some people drink to forget. Some try to erase their bad stories away and forget about them, but he always remembered. He always watched. The world could end a trillion times, and he'd still remember them all.

Although this life especially was not close to any of them and he failed to even speak to them the last few times, Adam still made a point of always being there and watching when the time came for a member of Phoenix Flight to begin their story.

Out of every member from that guild, and out of all those whom he respected the most, one stood out. That was, of course, the captain of the guild. Laerton Eman, the greatest Phoenix Flight captain who ever lived.

Yes.

Her story was one he was quite fond of.

And that was why he made a point of watching the origin of her tale any chance he got. Because no matter how low she started out, she was always going to rise up and spread her wings and fly out of the dark abyss that was her origin story.

That was just the kind of person Laerton Eman was.

'Drip…'

How long had it been since she last moved? At first, she had tried to keep track of time, but it soon lost all meaning. Her scattered mind had been unable to keep track of the seconds, all because of that damn dripping.

'Drip…'

Over and over again. The cell she was in was extremely small, and it lacked the bare essentials. No bed, no bucket to relieve herself; hell, the walls were so cramped that she couldn't even properly lie down. That was why she was sitting in a puddle of her own filth and blood, her tattered cloth stained black and red from shit and God knows what else, but it wasn't the stench nor the lack of food that truly bothered her.

'Drip…'

Tiny drops of water fell. They did so at random, no timing or way to get relief. Again and again and again and again and-

'Drip…'

Her scalp burned and itched; her hair was wet yet dry at the same time, as that damn dripping hit her any time her thoughts began to focus, sending her mind into a whirlwind. That was her life. All she was worth now. Hours, days, weeks, months, years. Those concepts had lost all meaning. She waited there, as if something would change.

'Drip…'

Her cell had no door, no windows, no light, nothing. Cold, damp, smelling of piss and shit and rotting food, this was her home, and besides the ever-dripping, only a wall covered in mold kept her company.

'Drip…'

'Crack…'

Jagged spider-web-like cracks suddenly appeared on the stone. She didn't react. There was no point. She just stared as her cell began to rumble and the sound of grinding filled her ears. The wall lifted, getting higher and higher, and an orange light spilled in as the guards outside of her cell peered in.

She waited for them to toss her the rotting remains of the feast they had or for them to beat her, but that never came. Usually, the guards were in pairs, one on the left and one on the right, but today two new figures had arrived.

For the first time in forever, she lifted her head, her eyes starting to fill with the faintest trace of light.

The figure she noticed first was a tall, cloaked man who wore the mask of a wolf and lazily tapped his katana on the ground. Her eyes then darted to the second figure, a man in thick, black armor. Jagged slices ran down it, his fingers were like claws, and his helm was shaped like the beak of a bird.

Wolf and Emperor Monarch. Two of the greatest figures in the land of Mordheim. And both of them were here to see you.

"Fuck. It smells awful in here." Beneath his mask, Wolf wrinkled his nose and winced. "Haru's panties! Someone wash this place."

"Y-Yes, right away, sir." One of the guards quickly left, running for the nearest well.

"Poor girl hasn't eaten in days." Wolf chuckled and leaned down, gazing at the filthy woman who had been behind the wall. "Hello, there, darling. Do you remember who I am?"

She stared up at him, her expression not changing. She kept her mouth shut, not a word slipping out, even as drops of water continued to pour onto her itching scalp.

"Silent treatment, huh?" Wolf lazily took his sword and pressed forward with it until it was against the dirty woman's stomach. With a bit more effort, it went past the cloth and lightly pierced her skin. Red spilled out, running down her stomach and thighs, and the blade kept getting deeper and deeper, but still, her mouth remained shut. "Good, good, you've learned fast." Wolf suddenly removed the blade and placed his hand on her head, shaking it back and forth as he petted her.

Somehow, the feeling of his palm on her scalp was a thousand times worse than the drops of water. She was almost relieved when he removed his palm.

Wolf turned to look back at the Emperor. "Well? What did I tell you? Isn't she great? I've trained her well. Drilled a lot of weapon arts into that little head of hers."

The armored man barely moved. It was a small fraction as his head lightly turned to Wolf. Blue fire filled from his helm, intense and smoldering, as his shadowy armor whispered around him and noises that only Wolf could understand spilled out.

"Ah? Yeah. She'll be a good weapon. You can count on that." Wolf turned back to the dirty girl and, without warning, jammed the blade directly into the ground in front of her, inches away from her flesh. "Go on. Pick it up. That's yours now."

Her body screamed as muscles that had long since given out were forced to move. Boney fingers wrapped around the handle of her sword, and her knees popped and cracked as she stood up and pulled it out of the ground. At her full height, she was only a tiny bit smaller than Wolf, who was clearly smirking from beneath his helm.

"Good girl. Ain't you an obedient little dog? I think you've more than earned your treat." Wolf turned back to the Emperor. "What do you say, boss?"

More blue fire buzzed out of the helm, and Wolf laughed once more.

The masked man reached into his coat and pulled out a sealed envelope, which he placed on top of the woman's head. "Your target's information is in there. Hunt him down, cut him down. Leave no witnesses. Leave no trace. Now fetch."

'Drip.'

This was her life. Her worth. Her value. That was all she was. A hound, waiting to be used. A sharpened blade plunged into the heart of people the Emperor wanted dead. Ever since she had been born, from the day she drew breath and became Wolf's pup, this was the life that Laerton Eman now lived.

'Drip.'

Weak, bony fingers reached into her tattered cloth, and she pulled out her wooden mask. Of course, it was shaped like the face of a hound.

Laerton slipped it on and allowed the hunt to begin once more.

'Drip.'

***

Present day…

Bolem was thrown across the room, now sporting a large hole directly through his chest. Thankfully, he was a golem, so the attack wasn't that big of a deal, but the fact that a Lung suddenly appeared out of nowhere did shock everyone.

"Farkiss!" Davi growled.

"You know that guy-" Susie began, but then stopped. "Actually, nah, this checks out. I need to stop being shocked when weird shit happens around you."

"Hey, did he get bigger?" Laerton asked flatly, taking a sip from a flask she had somehow gotten. "He looks bigger."

"Oh yeah, he's like way bigger now." Davi nodded. "Hey! How did you get bigger?"

"I drank lots of juice."

"Fuck you, give an actual answer!"

"You guys are being a little too calm." Myth grunted. "There's literally a fucking Lung in front of us!"

Farkiss let out a deep-bellied laugh. Flickers of fire gushed out of his nose, and his teeth gleamed as he opened his maws. "Since my last battle with you, I forced myself to evolve. I've become a boss monster and gained my own dungeon, thanks to the help of Rage. As you can see, it did wonders for me!"

Before, Farkiss had been fairly big but capped at around the size of a bus. Now he was far, far bigger. Two buses at least. Maybe even three. Jagged black scales covered his form, flickering red hot every now and then, and whiskers waved up and down, twisting the air and humming. He took up so much space that the room was cracking and shattering, falling apart each time he whipped around.

All of Bolem's guards were in an uproar, some running away, some drawing their weapons, and most hiding behind the Arcane Knights. The Pantheon guild looked slightly worried but remained calm. Susie was standing next to them since Laerton and Davi were a bit too close to the monster and didn't seem worried at all.

Laerton was a captain, so it made sense that she wasn't panicking. As for Davi? Well, he was either a dumbass or very, very confident in his new skills. Or maybe it was a combination of the two; who knew?

"My power has grown as vast as my new size." Farkiss bellowed, more fire flowing down his mouth and heating the room up. "I won't be beaten the same way as last time." He announced. "So, go on, show off that power that you used in our last fight. Just try your cheap tricks."

"Cheap tricks? You mean that threading thing I used to beat you?" Davi folded his arms. "Sorry, but I need Polymorph to do that."

"Ha! I was right! So, you do have it, don't you!" Farkiss laughed. "Roads Polymorph! That trait is pumping through your veins."

"Roads Polymorph?"

"Don't play dumb now! I've seen through your tricks." Farkiss roared. "You wield the Great Dragon of Roads' personal skill! How dare you! He and his brother are sacred beings! You would dare soil their honor by being a mere human with a trait like that? You deserve to be skinned alive and torn apart! And that's exactly what I'll do! I am the servant of the great ones! They who will write the wrongs and tell their stories in the stars above! I exist as a weapon, one made to be pointed at an enemy and kill! You are one of the seven! Today you will die!"

"I thought that weird head guy wanted me dead-"

"Silence!" Farkiss screamed again, spitting out a bit of fire. "Indeed, Bloom was the one our lord placed over you, and by all accounts it should be him who claims your life; however, he is willing to wait on the sidelines like a coward because that is what Adam has instructed. Pathetic! Your kind should all be dead now, and that's exactly what Rage is here for! I serve him now, and he is the one who will bring about salvation. A world for monsters! Now, enough with the stalling! Activate Roads Polymorph and allow me to kill you!"

"Yeah, sorry, but I don't have that power." Davi hummed.

"...What?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure you're talking about Olivia. She's the one with that skill."

"Who?!"

"Eh, it doesn't matter." Davi shrugged. "You're already dead anyway."

Laerton sheathed her sword and yawned, now standing next to the Lung. Farkiss felt his vision fade away as his eyes were sliced into ribbons along with the rest of his form. He exploded into a hail of chunks and gore, blood and fire seeping out, but it was quickly followed by a bright golden light.

It shimmered and swirled around him, and suddenly his body was placed together once more as he used a form of Polymorph to negate the damage. "Ha! Did you really think it would be so easy-" Laerton sheathed her sword again, and Farkiss's gory remains coated the room for a second time. Once more, his body healed. "How dare you! I am-" Laerton sheathed. "Stop-" She did it again. "I demand you-" Smoke flowed from her blade due to how fast she drew and sheathed it, and soon the entire room was stained red. "How dare you, how dare you, how fucking dare you!" Farkiss screeched like a bat out of hell, and he slammed down directly in front of Laerton, glaring at her with utter hate. "I'll fucking end you! You're dead! You don't even know it! Why bother fighting back? Why try to live? Your life was written out long ago. That's all you are. A slave to fate. A slave to destiny. You're nothing more than ink on a page that someone else has written down. The quill has long since decided the fates of every living being in this universe. We are cogs in a machine built by beings so far above us that we'd never understand the way they think, even in a billion years! Your life was set out before you the moment you were born, and all of it has led to this single moment! You were doomed the instant you challenged me to a duel! What an utter fool you are! Waste your power, let it all spill out, and grow tired. I'll come back again and again, for I am eternal. I am on the right side of history, the correct story, and a character in this massive novel who was granted a name, unlike you, who simply exists as a side character in someone else's story. I bet you don't even have a name. You're not worthy of one! You're not worthy of anything! Trash! Utter trash! The mere fact that we draw in the same air disgusts me. You're so far beneath me that it is almost laughable and adorable. The fact that you think a simple sword can kill an idea, for that is what I am. A concept. A being whom those of greater status than you'll ever be have placed down into this story. I am someone grand and worthy of respect, and you will show me the respect that I have earned! Do you hear me, you little shit? Count yourself lucky that a great, superior being, like me, is here to slaughter you. This will be far different from the last fight, and I'll devour you alive! You're going to die. Slow, painful, screaming, and crying and begging, but I won't listen because you don't matter, you side character! Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!" Farkiss huffed and breathed heavily, having repaired himself over a hundred times now. "Well? How long do you think you can keep this up for?"

Laerton yawned again and sheathed her sword. She was completely red now, bathed in the Lungs' blood, and she lazily looked to the rest of the group, who all stood there awkwardly. "Hey, you guys go on ahead. I'll keep this guy here. I've pretty much figured out how to put him down, so I'll catch up in a moment."

"Are you sure?" Myth asked, a bit grossed out.

"Yeah. Bolem, get them out of here."

Bolem stood up, thanks to the help of his brother Olem, and he wandered to the well. "Alright! You heard the lady. Come on." Bolem placed his hand on the well. "Press your palm into it, and step forward." He demonstrated.

As he took a step forward, the holy light shimmered, and a tendril of it wrapped around his arm and waist. It dragged him into it, and he vanished in an instant, disappearing. His soldiers followed his lead, and they also faded.

"Let's go." Olem copied his brother and vanished, as did Susie, Mel, the Queen, Max, and Sera. All of them vanished, leaving just Myth, Davi, and Laerton behind.

"Laerton," Myth began. "I'm heading straight for my guild and then yours. Catch up as soon as you can."

"Will do." Laerton kept lazily sheathing her sword, the blade now on fire, and Farkiss was no longer able to open his mouth due to how fast he was being ripped up. "I shouldn't be much longer."

"Good." Myth placed his palm on the light and stepped forward, vanishing.

Davi looked to his captain. "You sure you'll be good here?"

"Doubting your captain?"

"Maybe a little." Davi gave her a half smirk before his look grew serious. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"For helping me get stronger," Davi said. "And also, for talking with me so much." He turned away from her and placed his hand on the light. "I-I… What you said earlier helped me clear my head a lot, I think. It put some ideas in my mind and gave me a good idea of what I should do. It was nice. I haven't had that many teachers. Compared to my mom, you're practically a saint. So, thanks. And let's do our best to finish this all up." And with that, Davi vanished.

Laerton sighed and sliced the Lung up another hundred times. "Idiot. Don't compare me to your mother. That's so weird. Besides, I'm a horrible mom. A no-good like me shouldn't be given credit like that." She chuckled. "Damn. I felt something weird in my chest. Don't tell me you're starting to care about your guild, Laerton. Shouldn't you stay a heartless weapon? After all, soon they're all going to die. Such is the fate of the Phoenix Flight guild." She drew her blade and waited.

Farkiss's body recovered, an intense blaze exploding out of him. "You bitch!" He blew a wave of fire at her, but Laerton's sword spilled out a sea of threading that wiped it away. "Why won't you stop? You can't kill me!"

"Of course I can." Laerton casually walked forward. "All I need to do is target your core. That's how Davi beat you last time." Her blade started to slash, and she moved through the wave of gore as she danced forward, mowing the Lung down. "After cutting you up so much, I was bound to figure out where it was eventually." The threading kept flowing from her sword, and soon it wrapped around a golden orb. "Checkmate."

"No! No, no, no, no, no! I'm immortal! You can't do this!"

"You're immortal? Nice theory." Laerton tossed the orb into the air. "Let's put it to the test." The orb split in two as the blade came up.

"No!"

And then silence.

The Lung didn't get back up.

Laerton stood there, in a room filled with blood, her robes clinging to her form, stained so red they almost looked black. Peace and quiet. Pure silence. Her eyes closed, and she breathed in and out. Almost instantly, they snapped open when she heard a familiar sound.

'Drip.'

Her scalp burned, and Laerton glared at the roof but stopped when she saw the blood above her was slowly dripping down onto her. "Oh. Hehehe. I guess I made a mess. He. Hehehe. Hehehehehehehe." Laerton began to laugh.

'Drip.'

Chapter 219 - Captain Laerton Eman