Sovereign of the Karmic System-Chapter 692: Joan the Paladin

"Urgh!.." Ian retched uncontrollably. The scent of burnt flesh had invaded his nostrils, and he could taste ashes on his tongue. His mind had gone blank, muffled by the echo of the obliterating strike that kept ringing in his ear – He had yet to process that the skeleton which had slumped at his feet, and his beautiful yet stern martial arts teacher, were one and the same.

As he snapped his jaw in an attempt to unclog his ears, he grimaced at how easier it was to be smitten by the obliterating strike, than it was to witness its might out of the blue.

The members of the group also reacted to the sudden attack, albeit in varying ways. More notably, was the pale green mental cultivator, who had started murmuring an enchantment before the rest could even acknowledge what had happened. The words he whispered activated the chains of mental power he had placed in the woman’s mind, connecting her consciousness to what was left of her body, and preventing her mind and spirit from departing to their resting places, granting the woman crucial seconds needed for her body to regenerate.

Luckily for her, the immortal nature of her innate energy merged her ki, spiritual essence and mental power into one, and while that alone would not have been enough to save her from obliteration, with the time given by Aeron’s safety measures, she soon started to recover.

Seeing the carcass of the female paladin regain color, with the charred bits detaching from her regenerating flesh, Roley snickered, "At this pace we’ll be lucky if we manage to get out of this mountain path, let alone this.. world." As he spoke, his eyes sought acknowledgment from his companion, only to find them busy with their own thoughts.

Der, amazed by the absolute decisiveness and selflessness of the paladin, could not help but stare at her body in silence. A glimmer of respect now present within the sea of sternness and indifference that were his pale gray eyes.

Daniel, on the other hand, had observed the events with amusement. He stepped closer to the repairing corpse, casually moving Ian away from the incoming pair of twins, then stopped a few feet from it. By the time he stopped, the paladin’s skeleton couldn’t be seen anymore, only pathways of veins sprouting out of nowhere like chorals, followed by ropes of muscles spiraling around them.

Not used to the sight of a body being regrown from mere bones, Ian shivered.. but then, as the woman’s bloody flesh was gradually covered by patches of pristine pale skin, reforming his teacher’s naked body, his cheeks turned crimson. "Clothes!" he yelled – but was ignored.

The female paladin regained her bearings in silence. "We are back." She said casually, before noticing the nearby presence of Daniel. Her head bowed calmly as she acknowledged him with a cold tone, "My lord."

Daniel’s brows narrowed with curiosity. "Why did you do that?" he asked.

"For two causes, chiefly." She responded, as if prepared to receive this very question. "In due course, we would have sought to know if striking with a weapon would awaken the contraption. I deemed this moment as fitting as any to test it. My apologies, my lord, if I have squandered your time."

A smile crept on Daniel’s lips as he nodded in acknowledgment of her efforts, yet, he kept inquiring. "What was the second reason?"

"Because it was my desire to do so." The paladin blurted out with an indifferent tone, hiding as well as she could the flicker of fear that burned in her heart when facing Daniel. After all, she was a paladin – A holy warrior meant to fight the enemies of the gods she followed.. and in her eyes, who qualified as a higher god than the being who had taken part in the death of her former liege?

The smile on Daniel’s face widened, lips parting to show a row of white teeth. "What is your name?" He asked as his eyes focused on the sparse golden particles that hovered around her mostly recovered body.

"I am called Joan." The paladin with a polite bow.

As her back straightened, she flinched. Daniel’s hand had inched closer to her naked self, and his eyes showed a glimmer of interest. Yet, being the beautiful woman that she was, she quickly realized the difference between Daniel’s interest, and the lustful gazes she had encountered thousands, millions of times before. And luckily, she wasn’t wrong.

Daniel’s hand was not actually inching towards her, but wandering in the empty space between them. His eyes, once of a banal dark hazel color as they observed his surroundings, now reflected sparks of gold once again. Through them he saw the little flickers of golden light that were shed from the woman’s body, before being quickly erased by the nature of the space they were in.

Unwilling to let that bit of power disappear, Daniel commanded it into his body, feeling its newfound presence comfortable and familiar, not unlike the long awaited reunion between two old friends. When his eyes finally reopened, his gaze once more landed onto the female paladin, and he said lazily, "Joan.. You remind me of someone.."

Joan’s eyes furrowed inquisitively. "Who, my lord?" She asked.

"A devoted one. Someone who took my words far too seriously." Daniel responded before dismissively turning towards the path. In the distance the pair of twins were just now starting to place their offerings onto the altar. He then casually turned to look down the path, quickly spotting the group of six men creeping behind the treeline, yet to position themselves in their previous formation.

In the following minutes, the children finished their offering and the scenery repeated itself without interruptions. They offered fruit and vegetables, packed up, and as they went down, they were once again stopped by the group of bandits. The boy once inevitably tried to protect his sister by striking the bandit chief’s tooth with a rock, and in a fit of rage, the boss tried to beat him with a stick.

Joan who in the meantime had dressed up and recovered her thrown spear, stared at the repeated scenery in silence. Her eyes refused to divert from the events as her hands started to itch.. but before she could repeat her mistake, Aeron stopped her the same way he had stopped Der. A wisp of his calming mental power engulfed her, turning her fury and righteous indignation into feelings of acceptance and sorrow.

With those emotions steadying her hands, she prepared herself for the tragedy.. but what she expected to see never happened.

As the bandit chief tensed his arm, bringing his club down viciously.. *PAH* A loud pop was heard coming from less than a hundred yards into the treeline.

Frightened by the sudden sound, the five bandits stared at their leader in panic, only to find him maintaining his standing position, completely still. His head hung forward, and his long greasy hair covered his face.. yet his shirt, once ragged and dirty, now dripped a bright red liquid.

"Khan?" A lanky man asked.. but instead of a response, the man received a pained groan and a strained gurgle, followed by a loud *thump* sound.

When the body of the leader fell, his men did not wait around to check for his conditions, and instead scattered in a hurry. Some heading into the treeline, some running down the path. One of them ran all the way to the temple, hoping to find cover behind its large stone bricks. But their worries were unnecessary, as no more shots were heard.

Despite being left alone, in the presence of a bleeding corpse, the two children did not worry or cry. In fact, a feeling of calm seemed to take over the boy’s expression, as his eyes followed the rustle of leaves and snap of twigs which grew closer.

Before long, a figure emerged from the bushes. A young man roughly Ian’s age, but also inexplicably different. He wasn’t as tall, barely breaking five feet even when counting the ponytail that rose from the top of his head, the only part of his head that wasn’t shaved. His bronze skin was covered in tribal tattoos, with markings similar, if not identical to those of the twins.

The lack of prominent muscles on his body betrayed his abilities, which he showed by slowly raising the musket he was carrying – one eye lined perfectly with the iron sight, which separated it to the running figure of one of the other bandits. His breathing slowed down, and brows locked in place.

Aeron, most adept in reading people’s intentions, was surprised to see the merciless hesitation bubbling in the youth’s mind. An odd combination, as more often than not, mercy led to hesitation, and lack of it was a sign of decisiveness.

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It then dawned on him. The youth was no killer, even though he had killed less than a minute prior. He was a hunter – currently staring at the retreating figure of human prey and hesitating. But not because he wished to spare a life that posed no threat to him any longer, but because he was too far, and the chance to kill was lost. Or so Aeron thought.

Seeing the youth step out of his perch, the two siblings beamed with joy. They approached him with open arms, hoping for comforting words, but the youth did not appear to bother with their presence. His eyes were still on the trigger, and his mind was on the moment.

Then, before the fleeing bandit could go too far, the musket roared once again with a loud sound that was soon followed by screams of pain.

The bandit clutched his thigh, feeling red warmth flow from right underneath his left buttock. He squeezed the wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding, but his panic and low preparedness had him fail all attempts. As a last resort, he turned to face the shooter with pleading eyes, snot, drool and tears dripping from his orifices dramatically.. but he then stopped, for the youth wasn’t impressed. Too bothered with loading another iron pellet into the musket’s barrel to.

In the midst of the whining and begging, the youth finally took notice of the two children. Yet no comforting words came from his mouth. Instead, his arms stretched outwards, still holding the musket.

The boy looked back at him in confusion, but as the rifle was thrust into his hands, he finally understood. With unsteady steps he left behind his sister and walked towards the wounded man, who was now crawling away from him. Once a few steps away, he aimed the rifle at the man’s head, and then, once again, the gun fired.

As the smoke settled the boy’s gaze remained locked onto the lifeless body that lay at his feet. There was a smoking hole on his chest, but no blood – A small detail that left the boy perplexed.

"He is wondering why the wound isn’t bleeding." Aeron said casually.

While Aeron’s intentions were simply to translate the language of the boy’s mind, Ian, least experienced in death among his group, found the fact curious. "Why isn’t the body bleeding?" He asked with curiosity.

Roley gave the body a once-over, then responded with a faint shrug moments later. "It’s an old musket.. the pellet didn’t fracture into the body, rupturing many blood vessels, but instead struck the heart directly. The blood is currently filling the chest cavity, and it will start to spill out in a few seconds.. minutes at the latest."

Ian nodded, satisfied by the explanation, but that was not the case for the young boy, who could not hear the scholar’s explanation. When he turned to ask the youth for an explanation of his own, however, the boy found him standing a step away from him, hunting knife held steadily in his hand.

Before the boy could speak, the young man pushed him gently aside, and after kneeling next to the body, he plunged the knife deeply into the corpse’s stomach.

Blood splattered everywhere – especially when the young man’s fingers dug into the posthumous wound, dipping his arms into the dead man’s chest down to his forearms. After a minute of rummaging, when the young man’s arms exited the corpse’s body, his fingers were holding a heart, still glistening with fresh blood and warm to the touch.

Heart in hand, the young man respectfully held his hand in front of the boy, and with the help of his recovered knife, butterflied it open. With religious care he then let go of the knife, tracing his index finger across the wound he had created, covering it in fresh blood he then smeared into the boy’s face.

Only now did the serious young man show signs of clear affection towards the boy. "Muna, ri popo na kora to." He said proudly.

"Muna, you are a warrior now." Aeron translated.

The members of the group observed the events with a somber expression, most of them aware of the importance a first kill had on a man’s soul and mind. Yet, before any of them could realize, the sky above, the ground they stood on, the forest that surrounded them.. the corpse, hunter and kids, they all blurred, turning into an indistinguishable gray mass.

When their surroundings came to focus once again, they were standing somewhere completely different.