Chapter 18
Where am I?
This place… I don’t remember it, but… it feels so familiar…
Is this... a dream...?
Emma glanced around the cozy room, well-lit by the nearby lamp and fireplace. Small traces of dirt could be found on the tiled floor while faint signs of decay existed on the walls. The table before her seemed sturdy, but the scrappy design ruined its aesthetics. She attempted to move but found her body to be heavily fatigued. Her joints felt loose while her breasts felt sore. A strange pressure pushed against her abdomen. She gazed down.
WHAT IS THIS?!
Internally, Emma screamed as she could not believe what she saw.
SINCE WHEN?!
While panicked, the woman’s attention met with the figure who busied himself near the counters.
Sniff-Sniff
A rich aroma entered her nostrils, causing her to salivate. The scent was nostalgic, however, she couldn’t reason why that was the case. Quickly, she shook her head, breaking herself from the impending daze.
Who are you and where am I?
Emma attempted to question, but the words did not exit her mouth. Instead, her lips spoke of something completely different.
“Oh-ho, is that meat I smell?” Slightly flirtatious, her lips continued. “What’s the special occasion, Ethan?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” The man said jokingly as he dried his hands on his apron. “Maybe it was because I kept finding these inconspicuous notes on my desk.” He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket with the words ‘I WANT MEAT!’ scribbled on it.
Ethan then turned around, revealing his face to Emma. She witnessed the gentle features that adorned his face, presenting a caring aura. The man was thin, but not scrawny. Strangely, the pink apron suited him well.
“You know…” He paused briefly, “You could just tell me these things instead of leaving notes everywhere. Paper isn’t cheap.”
“I think it’s more fun that way!” She said with a smirk.
The man sighed.
“Whatever floats your boat, I guess.” He immediately returned to the task of meal preparation.
Emma watched from behind as Ethan stirred and seasoned. This caused her heart to beat rapidly and with increasing ferocity.
Sniff-Sniff
With each additional adjustment, the scent grew in prowess and magnificence.
“Ah~ smells wonderful. Can I have just a little taste?”
“Not until it’s done. The last thing I want is for you to get food poisoning.”
“Geez, Ethan, since when did you become this strict? ‘You are not allowed to eat food until it’s completely cooked. You are not allowed to drink. You are not allowed to move too much’ and so on. Sooo many restrictions.” The woman puffed her cheeks and swung her arms in protest. “Hailey just recently bought a bottle of vodka, too. Let me have some fun!”
“No, Anna. You are carrying a child, so be more careful with your body.”
Anna? Emma pondered. Why did he just call me that? Are these… my memories? She wanted to ask but was unable to voice her questions. Instead, her body continued acting on its own.
“My mom drank a lot while she had me, and I turned out to be fine!”
Upon hearing this, Ethan gave a soft sarcastic chuckle.
“Hey, what was that supposed to mean?!”
“Oh, nothing.” Light snickering could be heard.
“…” The man remained silent as he tested the flavoring. Pleased by the taste, he poured the fragrant stew into a bowl. Then, he proceeded to place it on the table along with silverware and a serviette. Emma stared blankly as she was captivated by the scene.
Involuntarily, she hung her head over the stew, breathing in the richness.
“Well, dig in,” Ethan said as he sat across the table. “Be careful, it’s hot.”
The woman simply stared for a short while.
“Feed me!” She demanded.
What?! Emma squealed internally out of embarrassment. She wanted to cover her face in shame but was unable to.
Afraid to see the man’s expression, she attempted to avert her eyes to no avail. Hesitantly, she viewed his expression. There was no disgust or revulsion but affection and compassion.
“Sure-sure.” Ethan carefully scooped a spoonful of stew, ensuring that it included an adequate amount of meat. Using his other hand to catch the runoff, he cautiously blew at the spoon.
Still flustered, Emma opened her mouth, unintentionally emanating an audible noise.
“Ah~”
The temperature of the soup was just right, not hot enough to burn but also not cool enough to detract from the taste.
“How is it?” The man probed, eagerly awaiting a response.
“Hmm~… It’s good!”
“Glad to hear it.” He carried on with the next scoop.
…
Much time has passed, the soup was all but finished. Radiating with content, the woman sat back and rubbed her stomach.
“Want to listen?” The woman tucked strands of hair behind her ear, exposing more of her beautiful face. “She has a healthy heartbeat.”
Ethan approached and laid his ear on her bare belly.
Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump
“Indeed, she does.” He said with a smile.
The situation was extremely embarrassing to Emma, and yet, she did not dislike the familial warmth.
“What should we name her?” The man gently stroked the woman’s skin.
***
Slowly, her eyes opened, awoken by the recurring shakes. She was seated within the vehicle she had ridden many times before. Emma quickly familiarized herself with her surroundings.
“Paladin,” Henrik spoke as they decelerated. “I apologize for disturbing your rest, but we’ve arrived.”
Emma spotted a hooded figure in the distance who waved two faintly glowing sticks.
“I’m afraid we must advance on foot, Paladin. Our safe house in the Dark Lands was established in secrecy, and thus must not be discovered. It is necessary that we avoid attention.”
Without another word, they both exited their transportation. The knight had parked within the confines of an abandoned building. Using a large gray rag, the vehicle was rendered obscure. The two proceeded to the distant individual, careful not to make any unnecessary noise.
“Halt!” The unknown man asserted, “What fates one in the darkest of shadows?”
“A gamble for the brightest of lights.” Emma was the one who responded, for Henrik was not informed of the answer.
“Welcome to the Dark Lands, Paladin.” The man pulled back his hood to reveal his short curly hair. “I hope the journey has treated you well. I am Dion of the Eighteenth Scouts, pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“This is Knight Henrik and I am Paladin Em-”
“No need for formalities, there isn’t a single person in the Order who does not know the Conqueror of the North.” The scout began walking and gestured the others to follow. “Come on, we have a lot of ground to cover.”
“You are showing disrespect to the Pal-”
“Henrik,” Emma interrupted, “Just leave it be.”
“Y-yes, Paladin. I apo-”
She began walking, ignoring the knight.
…
Marching in darkness, the three did not employ lanterns or lights. The gray ridden sky allowed for their outlines to be visible, which was enough for them.
“Any news of interests?” Emma spoke first, breaking the lengthy silence.
“Same old, same old. A few Cultists here and there. Raiders and Bandits attacking caravans. You know, the usual.”
Displeased with the carefree attitude of the scout, Henrik began to taunt.
“Your lack of professionalism is the reason why you remain a nameless scout while I stand here as a knight.”
“Wait!” Dion suddenly stopped, arms stretched, blocking the knight and paladin. “Do you hear that?”
Henrik swiftly readied his weapon, vigilantly surveying the encompassing ruins.
“W-What is it?!” The Knight voiced with a slight stutter as he was unable to spot the imposing threat.
“I’ve heard that noise before,” Dion answered. “It’s the sound of no one caring.” He casually returned to his stroll.
Faced with humiliation, Henrik gritted his teeth, ready to lash out.
Seeing this, the paladin intervened.
“Let it go, Knight.”
...
The party arrived in front of a metal door embedded into the side of a non-distinct structure. Its windows were barred with planks of wood while the other doorways were blocked by debris.
Knock-knock. Knock-knock-knock. Knock. Knock-knock-knock-knock.
The slit on the door opened, revealing a dim light and a pair of eyes.
“What fates on-”
“A gamble for the brightest of lights. Yeah, yeah.” Dion heckled. “Let us in.”
“You were supposed to wait until I’m done, asshole.” The woman closed the slit, followed by a series of clicks.
Turning to the two behind him, Dion jested.
“She loves me.” He opened the heavy door and entered the safe house.
Once inside, Emma noted the interior. At its center, a large map of the area was marked with countless lines and shapes. Next to it, an electric lantern illuminated the room with an orangey light. Open crates littered the floors near the walls, some still holding supplies.
The woman with the side braided hair approached Emma and excitedly shook the paladin’s hand.
“I’m Lia of the Eighteenth Scout Squad. As you may have guessed, that idiot over there is my brother.” She briefly pointed at Dion to which he responded by waving his arm. “It’s an honor to serve with you, Paladin.”
Seeing as the two shared the same light gray eyes and curly brown hair, Emma assumed there was some form of blood relation.
“So,” Lia continued, “Who’s the scrawny kid you came with?”
“Scrawny?!” He wanted to retort, but witnessing Emma’s cold gaze, Henrik decided against it. He cleared his throat before introducing himself. “I’m Knight Henrik, here to assist the paladin whenever possible.”
“Can you inform me of the Cultist’s activities within the area?”
“Yes, Paladin.” Lia pointed at a marked location on the map. “Roughly two weeks ago, we found this facility by tailing several of the Cultist Oracles. We attempted to study the facility, but security around it was way too tight. We relayed the information to squad seventeen, but have lost contact with them since then.”
“What is the purpose of this facility?” Emma enquired.
“I apologize, Paladin.” Lia shook her head. “We only know that they were kidnapping the locals. However, something strange happened just a few days ago.”
“And what’s that?”
Using her finger, Lia circled an area around the cultist’s compound.
“While attempting to find a weakness within their security, we heard a strange commotion. Wanting a better vantage point, we climbed a nearby building and found that swarms of crawlers were advancing toward the facility en masse. A frightening roar rocked the area amidst the gunfire. Soon after, the guns went silent… and I don’t think it was because the Cultists won…”
“Did you check the facility afterward?”
“We didn’t dare, Paladin, for the fight barely lasted an hour. The Cultists may be insane, but they are not incompetent. I don’t know what provoked the crawlers, but I pray to the Ancients that we do not do the same.”
As she pondered, Emma further questioned.
“Could you identify the loud roar?”
“No, it was like nothing I’ve ever heard before.” The woman trembled as dread surfaced on her face. “Just the thought of it sends chills down my spine.”
The paladin contemplated their situation, she knew investigating into the unknown without proper precautions would just lead to more causalities.
“You guys did the right thing.” She said, patting Lia on the shoulder. “We’re not in the position to take unnecessary risks.” Glancing around, Emma noticed the lack of personnel. “Is there anyone else stationed here?”
“The others are currently on a mission. Oh, that reminds me. Dion!” After giving her order, Dion ran into another room and retrieved a large metal briefcase. “A special delivery for you, Paladin.”
The briefcase was promptly opened after being placed on the table. Inside, stowed a pristine, carbon black firearm. A separate crate was brought forth and opened, revealing clips of enlarged rounds.
“The Ravager, a weapon allowed only in the hands of paladins.” Lia boasted proudly while reading the included manual. “Bearing a shortened design, it allows for ease of concealment and retrieval. A two times zoom night vision scope is included, allowing for operation in near complete darkness. It fires the devastating cartridge, caliber .50, High-Explosive Armor-Piercing-Incendiary (HEAPI) round, shouldering the same destructive power of a 20mm autocannon.”
Emma picked up the weapon.
“It’s a bit heavy.”
“If I am to be honest, Paladin,” Lia said while scratching her chin. “I don’t know how you can fire this thing without dislocating your shoulders.”
Inspecting the stock of the weapon, the paladin noticed its springiness. She flicked a switched on the side of its body, allowing the barrel to burst out, answering the prevailing question.
“It has both a spring coiled stock and a retractable barrel. That should reduce the recoil a bit, but I don’t know how much.”
Perplexed by the reasoning behind requisitioning such heavy equipment, Emma glared at the two scouts.
“Why would I need this much firepower...?”
