"This box, I think it would be best in your hands, my Lord," Blair said, as He gave me the box His father left him.
I would like to refuse as a kind gesture; however, showing vulnerability through kindness would undermine my influence right now, so...
"Very well," I replied.
I began to ascend the lavish stairs of the Tower. What used to be the owner of this Tower is definitely someone who has an eye for design, as each corners I see are embedded with decorations, the very structure looks like it is out of Gothic architecture, but the inside feels very cozy,
The stairs run long above the tower, it was quite exhausting, based on the steps and the average diameter of each step of the stairs, I'd assume I'd been going for at least 4 floors now, assuming that each floor would be half as big as the Throne room.
"If I were to assume its height, it would be at least 144 Meters, as tall as Cologne Cathedral in Europe," I thought.
After reaching the Top floor, and probably the only floor, besides the throne room, another, yet lavish-looking door greeted me along the corridor. The door resembled an old book, a grimoire perhaps, it looked like an opened page, as I pushed through the door, and inside was unsurprisingly filled with—well, books.
It seems that this was a study room of some sort, but it also looks like a library, as it is filled with different books of different literature. I ran my fingers through the shelves as I examined the whole room.
As an Avid learner, this gave me goosebumps, out of Happiness, after all in such a worn out world, learning would probably be my only source of inspiration, In my eagerness and excitement I skimmed through the book covers, some looked uncommon or the ones a noble family might have in their basements, some were just records or transcripts...
[Indeximus, 1113] The King has fallen, the peop—
[Orchard Recordings, Inscription 402] Blooming again, life is go—
[0100] ???????
But there were others that caught my attention, some looked like a Dictionary filled with unknown words, some were just books filled with pictures, along their covers are symbols that resembled elements such as fire, and lightning... and some only had words that describe a scene or a process? Like a recipe book or a cookbook.
At the very center was a large study desk, filled with an artisan's quill and different writing appendages, in front was a large looking mirror, directly staring at what I can only assume to be a Cliff far from here, the sight views the rest of this dilapidated city enveloped by the night sky and the moonlight, and at the other far corner where a land that seems to be, ridden with lights, like a market.
Directly at the back of the desk was another effigy with a faceless face,
"You do not belong in this sacred (Sacred for learning) Place," I whispered in it.
Back at the Throne room, Blair was left in the middle of the highly decorated Throne, on each side of the throne stood five lesser seats, all equating to 11 seats, in a slightly arched manner, facing the Colossal entrance door of the Tower.
"I was given life anew, and a seat beside His, I must not fail, as I did with my Father," Blair whispered, stroking the Throne in the middle.
"This is where I shall seat you, My Lord, such would be my duty as you're Proxy," He added—
*CREAKSSS
The large, colossal door ached open, as if in refusal, then a collection of fifty men rallied inside the tower, with its leader visibly in the Middle. A barbaric-looking guy with no care for looks whatsoever.
The Man looked visibly confused as He spoke to his Men.
"Demon? This ye Demon causin fear much to that cracker ey?, not Horror, not even e Man, ye just shitty Child." He spoke, "Such e shame," He added, as He looked at the Child in front of the Throne.
"Oy!!, ya doin here— lookin for troble?" Pointing at Blair.
In Blair's head was irritation and satisfaction as He was now given an opportunity to prove His worth to His New Lord.
He remembered as He was bestowed such power, the words of His lord, "I grant you power, but its strength lies not in itself but from your understanding of it, and for what is not seen."
"He must mean something deeper," Blair thought, "To understand, right, understanding is not just of knowledge but also of others, just like how He reads what cannot be, to understand their behavior, and to act in an unseen manner." This is what He meant, His wishes not to be seen...
"And in such I must think, and with such thought I must act," He whispered
As Blair was about to speak—
A reverberating voice echoed through the very walls of the Cathedral, coming from the very effigy in the middle of the room,
It was the voice of a Man, with a very crisp and Mysterious sound, a Whisper louder than a roar.
"You do not belong in this sacred Place."
The voice trembled through the body of the Men who intruded the place; some were visibly shaken, taken aback, some showed fear, and some were unfazed. It was a plethora of emotions of doubt and misconceptions.
"How is ye speakin without speakin?" The Leader of the Men asked himself, assuming that the voice came from the child in front, "ye daemon."
Then Blair replied in a whisper, "The lord has spoken."
Blair didn't waste idle time, as He started to manifest his thoughts. He envisioned his Master's words something Unseen, untouched, something that keeps away all unclean...
*BWROOOSHHHHHHHH
The Air began to blow, right inside the Tower, stronger, faster, and larger, each passing second, as if it was being adjusted, learned.
All the intruder visibly pushed away, as the very clock tower shook violently by the gushing, no, Raging winds like that of a typhoon or a tornado, debris flying and shooting in all directions.
*ding... Dingg....DINGGGGGG
The violent vibration of the Air caused The Bell of the clock tower to ring.
As all the intruders are forcibly blown outside of the tower, the Tower doors then wobbled as if it was capping in rejoice from the wind; The weaker and thinner men, were incapacitated, some were fractured or impaled by the flying debris of wood and stone, wile others are seriously injured; However, along with their Leader, some of the stronger and more battle hardened Men, were simply pushed, but uninjured, leaving a total of ten Capable men.
"Oi Peyton, Looks like we're in for a fun time, aren't we?" One of the Men spoke
Peyton liked to agree; however, He himself began to have doubts about how a child was able to reduce the strength of fifty men to a feeble ten.
Peyton thought.
"How is a child, even inside the Dilapidated City, a place ridden with all kinds of sinners, of the unlawful, and alone even?" He asked himself
Then he realized—
This is not a child, the beggar was right, it was probably a Horror, one that shifts its form, to that of creating confusion, lowering one's suspicion.
"Do not let your guard down, that is not a child, that is A Horror, Capable of shapeshifting," Peyton shouted to His comrades, as they wait in a defensive stance.
As Blair walked outside the Watch Tower, The Large Colossal Doors closed shut,
But it was silent, devoid of violence,
Rather, caring. Like a mother nurturing a child.
Blair stood outside the watchtower under the gaze of the moonlight and the weight of His lord's words.
He looked with a calculating gaze towards the remainder of the Men outside, "Two looked unsure,
Five were waiting for orders, perhaps like a loyal guard dog,
The other 2 looked more confident, Ready to pounce.
And lastly, the Man that kept speaking, assumingly the leader of the pack, battle-hardened, A veteran, but lacks power, perhaps" Blair thought,
"I must understand, and hold this fight in the palm of my hands and Think, like a tactician predicting, Manipulating, like a player in game of checkers" He whispered, as the two confident looking guys rushed with their weapons, flimsy, and lacked power, overconfident, followed by another 2 whose unsure but went along the way still thinking numbers would push forward.
"Remember father's teachings," Blair Thought.
Backed by His previous Knowledge and his willingness to grasp the understanding of others, His memory responded.
[Foresight] Blair's eyes glimmered in a purple hue, A power from the desire to see and comprehend.
A swing to the right, followed by a downward strike—
Two others behind my back followed with an unsure slash.
A pincer attack, but coincidental, it lacked coordination...
Then, as He Predicted, the Men followed as if it were an open book, filled with instructions, A guide to dying.
Blair responded respectively, dodging the first, parrying the second with a barrier of High pressure Air he formed in His hands, but it was still unrefined, causing a small slash in his hand, simultaneously He manifested vertical hot winds, striking the heads of the unsure enemies behind, it wasn't too precise but enough to Kill in the process.
The Pain in His hand ached, like a toe stub, shaking his entire body, as he looked at His bloodied hand, the death, the sin of killing, weaved through Blair's heart as He saw the people He killed,
causing Him to waver for a moment,
An opening Peyton took for granted, He struck with His large sword towards Blair, A direct hit aimed to split him in half.
However—
"I cannot stop now, I am not just Blair, but His Bloodhound. Besides, no need to pity the real sinners, the ones who spit on the weak, this is not sinning, but rather Divine Retribution," Blair whispered...
His movement becomes slightly more refined as if adjusting to a body He just acquired. Blair used strong air pressure to dodge Peyton's strike, and the same to cushion His stop, giving them a significant distance...
"I must start with the bothersome, the lackeys," Blair thought as He concentrated,
Again.
Air Pressure propelled Blair into the air, directly closing the gap between Him and Peyton's lackey. Blair's hand pointed at their body as He commanded strong wind, gushing through the Guy's head in quick succession, it was first suffocating,
But then it started to cause pain as the Pressure slowly increased, slowly peeling off the guy's flesh, killing him in the process, but Blair is unsatisfied—
"This takes too long, I need something fast, but potent," as Blair's five fingers pointed at the rest of the rushing Men. He conjured Air with high pressure and compressed it as thin as nails,
Without warning—
*SWOOSH
Blair's hands recoiled as the Air materialized and accelerated, piercing the Heads of the Rest of the Men. It was unavoidable, for it could not be seen, as the air itself and its acceleration made it invisible.
[Air Needle]
His eyes brimmed with satisfaction, but it wasn't finished.
Peyton clenched his teeth in rage. He closed the gap almost as fast, Swinging His Claymore like it was just a dagger,
[Foresight]
3 o'clock, 65 degrees angle
Blair avoided, by stepping to the side, and retaliated, calculated and precise.
Another, but it was a feint.
Blair rushed in, without Hesitation but with certainty, reaching just by the side where Peyton's sword had stopped. Another Air Needle struck Peyton's face point blank, but it was not enough; Peyton's skin is too thick to be pierced by a feeble Air Needle.
The two exchanged strikes, as each avoided the other's. Peyton had power and speed, Blair had speed and Precision. However—
Peyton was more experienced, Blair's power is still lacking, as He's not just fighting, He's also still learning, and His calculation was not enough to follow Peyton's barrage.
One slipped through, and Hit Blair in the stomach—But He was able to shield it with Air barriers, but the impact is still enough to damage His Small Body...
Blood spat out of Blair's mouth—
[Memory Burn Threshold: 14%]
"That's it, boy?" Peyton asked,
But as cold and calculating as Blair slowly becomes, He only responded as needed.
Peyton realized the boy in front of him wasn't responding out of anger or pain, but it was calculating, adapting.
"Ye' gettin faster, en each move 'twas different than before," Peyton whispered.
Alternatively...
"What else can I do? I cannot avoid forever," Blair Thought,
"I need something that has enough power, but fast enough to be unavoidable."
In that breath—
Peyton rushed for his Claymore, no feint, just desperation— predictable, Hu lunged with all the raw strength he had, like a stereotypical brute.
Calculating... A strong, piercing strike, right in the middle, at an angle of 90 degrees, 12 o'clock
Blair dodged his attack, using Peyton's momentum to drag his own body towards Blair's hands as he punched his jaw with his Palm. In his hands was condensed air, materialized, accelerating, and packed, pointed, like a ship's cannon on its enemy.
"SHIT," Peyton realized, but the push of his own attack prevented Him from any maneuvers or counterattack...
"The beggar was right after all," Peyton understood...
As Blair's Hands touched Peyton's skin—
*FISHHGEDDDD
The air whistled as it came in contact...
Blair paused, Satisfied,
He never knew that Death could be calculated,
as blood dripped on Blair's Hands, pointing at the space where Peyton's head was supposed to be.
*DING... Ding... ding...
The Clocktower Bell finally rested, only for a while.
And his body fell, like a mannequin without support. The unreal scene was witnessed by the injured men, unable to fight, a horror of how a child single-handedly obliterated fifty men down to the ground.
Some begged, and others wept for their lives,
But Blair was cynical. He needed not sympathy but rather a training ground, a way to practice, and refine... and so Blair began to experiment on the Men, like a living lab rat... eager to understand His Lord's words and wishes, His power resonated in response.
Blair recalled his father's self-defense lessons: "Offense is the strongest defense."—
"By incorporating compressed air in each of my strike, like how I did to shield a strike" Blair recalled, "... [Pressure Strike]; However, its taxing, exhausting, I cannot just rely on close combat, I'm still inexperienced, If I must fight unseen, then I must fight far from line of sight...
Like an Archer from afar, Blair Manifested a small bow from Air, shooting down one of the incapacitated Men, Killing it in instant, Those that had witnessed realized, they will not be spared but rather played, so with all that they can, they try to move each muscle fiber of their body, each strength drawn from their will to survive.
"It works, unlike conventional bows, it doesn't drag, it's as precise as one of those rumored 'Gun' but the firepower is not enough," He said, so he reconstructed a crossbow into a longbow... then finally— A Great Bow, with each arrow tailored of Highly Materialized Compressed Air... [Cloud piercer]
Blair then aimed at the rest of the Men, limping as they tried to flee, some were even crawling...
His Left Hand grabbed the Air, and His other stretched... Blair Closed His eyes, imagining an arrow that would not only kill to death, but would also inflict fear on the living... Blair is still in disbelief, "How a Blind like Me, unable to see the unseen, was granted power by a Man and was now able to Imagine, it felt similar to the Regal Envision in history books I read once," He thought... A surge of ecstasy added to his inspirations.
[Memory Burn Threshold: 20%]
Then he opened his eyes, as He let go of the Air made string....
*SKWRIIITTTTTTT
A loud screeching scream, Echoed in the air, as the Air compressed arrow flown, accelerating just almost past sound barrier, hitting the body of the fleeing Men, the initial impact caused piercing, bending even the armor along its path, soon followed by the body exploding from the released pressure of the Arrow inside, disturbing the Negative and Positive pressure of the Air in the body like a balloon popping from the inside...
[Cloud piercer] Recalibrated.
"Exploding from the Inside?" Blair thought as an Idea clicked in His mind, but it's still unclear.
Soon...
The front of the Watch tower becomes less of a burial, and more of a Playground...