Chapter 481: Crossroads

'A gun and a sword,' strapped to the belt and loaded around his waist, Igna limped to a run. The body had yet to recover – the night wouldn't end just yet. Over the distance where the moon touched the shadowy walls of the castle-walls came gunfire. 'I found them,' thought he hiding behind a wall. Group C accidentally walked into a closed alley. The roofs were malevolent. Shady figures dashed about from roof to roof. Some thought it be cats, others, the assassins, what was real was their predicament. Leonard's injury showed no sign of stopping. Lampard's stamina of carrying waned, Rena's troubled mind disarrayed per the death of a comrade. Jen had it worst, the was face naught but an inanimate object molded by regret and terror.

"Lord Goldberg," said they dropping off the roofs – four silhouettes veiled in black. If not for the fruitless shine of a neighboring window; they would have come as ghosts, "-give up this unnecessary effort. We're here to take you back home. Come, and I promise none of your friends will be hurt." 

"Is t-that a promise?" added the fatigued tone restlessly. Listless were the blinks and slow were the breaths – fever, increased heart-rate, the wound took its toll.

"Yes," smiled the supposed leader, "-we're here to only take you back. Nothing more, nothing less, what is it you decide?"

'No way,' thought he watching threw the walls, '-they're highlighted as Black, on the threat-level. I can't fight them; this is a fruitless endeavor. If I die there might be no telling what happens. I need to survive and save them, but how… I'm so useless.' 

"Listing possibilities," voiced Éclair, "-Call on the support from Lady Courtney, use Phantom's influence to remediate the situation. Second, fight and escape, and thirdly, leave and forget they were your friends."

"I appreciate the help," said he sarcastically, '-calling on support from mother seems viable. I don't want to do that. I also made a promise to lady Haru about not fighting. My sword isn't strong, I'll lose if it's a defensive battle.' 

"Ok, we yield," said Lampard putting a strong foot forth, "-promise me Rena and Jen are set free. Assassins never return empty-handed, bring my head to the leader if that's the price. I want the girls to be free." Under normal circumstances, they'd argue against the idea. Alas, tiredness and stress from the run made for a puppet-like behavior. Leonard lost his resolve, Jen her sanity, and Rena her clarity. Only Lampard stood as the wise one, a wise amongst fool.

"Why should we agree to those terms?" snickered the attackers, "-we could take all thine heads and leave. Why compromise."

"You sure about that?" he placed Leonard into a headlock, "-I'll be damned if we die. I don't care, I'll kill him if you don't let those girls go. I know well they'll be fine – I'm ready to take the karma for slaying a companion."

"Don't be harsh," said the leader, "-we'll agree to those terms. Let the young master go."

"He's injured."

"Don't move and leave him on the ground."

"Ok," placing the boy down, "-I'm sorry for this," whispered he backing away. The lonesome response was a weightless grin. "Jen, Rena, wake up. We might be set free." 

'The deal looks like it's going to be ok,' through the walls – one of the figures reached for a hidden dagger. 'A TRAP!' he turned the corner a little late, the dagger left the man's hand for Leonard's throat. 

"Calculating trajectory," flashed across," -aim here," an 'x' highlighted the path. On steady feet, the trigger pulled and the pistol shot back with recoil – a heavy mass of energy cut across the air to interrupt the blade. "Igna, accept my spirit into your body for this instant. The backlash will be severe – allow me to control you."

"Will we win?"

"Yes."

"Then, I accept." The closest made for his neck while the others took for Group C. A dazzling flash of light followed with the body dropping into a profound sea of greenish-blue. Water bubbles ran to the surface as he sank. Peaceful blue turned dark-crimson and finally, black, inky black. There in the realm of no questions and no answers silence permeated within. Nothing, simply nothing, no thoughts, no emotions, no sense of self, only the batting vision saw and not at the same time.

'Silver-ranked adventurers,' the eyes reopened to a slow world. 

"Welcome back, master," whispered a familiar tone.

"Who is this?" asked an emotionless voice.

"Thy loyal and humble servant, Éclair, my lord."

"Éclair," holding his temple, "-I see; my memories are separate from the actual host. I'm me but not, what a conundrum. How is this possible?"

"Master, the details do not matter at this moment. I forcefully pulled thy conscience from the dormant Death-Element. Please, the time-limit isn't much; deal with the pests before young Igna is corrupted." 

"You called onto me for this pettiness," the dagger halted inches from the heart. "Who even are you?" asked he pinching the blade – a look of regret spun into the attacker's gaze. "Doesn't matter," a kick had him break the opposing building. 

"What's wrong with that kid?" turned the leader, "-go on, tend to him."

"On it, sir," they rushed.

'Really?' a side-step dodged the premature attack, '-have they become this weak?' countless strokes and combinations stacked atop one another. In no way did he seem phased or troubled, slight motions sufficed. 'Time limit is running low,' *slash,* a spin, 

*-bang,* a gunshot; hunters became the hunted. Two heads fell and another one blown away.

"Thank you for saving Igna, master."

"Mention not, I shall return to the long slumber. I can't wait for the day where our memories join, the day where I make my return to this world accompanied by the ire of a decade brewing inside. Lucifer and Zeus will pay, all who stood in my way will pay, heed my words, Éclair, I will return strong, I will be calamity reincarnate, I shall destroy the heavenly domain for revenge." 

Senseless sight kindled, life pulsed, and consciousness pulled by a man in silvery-black hair. 'What happened?' a bloodied blade, a steaming gun, and four people dead.

"Enemies have been exterminated. Igna, what I did was to ensure your safety and those of your friends. It's one time only, next time, it will be the death of those around you. Heed the warning well, tis up to thee to protect, not those around."

"Yes, I understand, call an ambulance for now." 

"On their way," said it smugly.

"Thanks," the desolate roads led to the unconscious Leonard. 'For the sake of love and friendship,' he reached to hoister him upright, "-come on buddy, let's rejoin the others."

"Igna, is that you?" cried Lampard, "-is it truly you?"

"Yes," Leonard's weight collapsed onto his knees, Lampard narrowly caught him. "Everyone's out of it, what's the matter?"

"I can't explain, all I want is rest." Local ambulances soon rushed the place followed by police. There, Igna took command and explained the situation. The slaying of four men based on self-defense wouldn't run, normally that is. Away from the companion's fading sight, "-I'm part of the Haggard Dynasty. My actions were crude, strong decisions had to be made. The Goldberg sent assassins after us, their bodies are here to see. If there is any question, please refer to the Goldberg's first then my lady mother." 

"I see no harm done here," voiced the officer, "-we'll make sure the incident doesn't escape to the public." So, the strenuous path walked by Jen and Leonard came to a crossroad. Fate would decide next, acceptance or rejection, love or family, the conclusion to said tale would be known after the hospital trip. Red flashes pirouetted down the street towards the hospital. The Adventuring Academy was contacted through which next of kin were informed. 

'I'm home,' sighed he clambering off a different bike, '-I can't move on,' he reached the lift to land headfirst on the hardened floor. The lights blurred into a somber sleep.

"Be more careful next time," smiled Courtney leaned against a pillar, "-you did well. Éclair told me what happened," she carried him to bed. The solitary apartment revived; Igna slept with cheeks against her back. Frail as she looked, Courtney carried him as if a backpack. And so, the 24th of December, a long one at that, ended. It was then that she heard the voice of her brother thanks to Éclair – rather, her other-self. 

"What a dream," he awoke to a well-lit room. Setting onto the fluffy carpeted upper area, the curtains further forward were opened, the rising sun cast inky black shadows onto the scenery. A noire-styled painting reminiscent of bars, the typical kind one would find hanging on the walls. Opposed to a canvas, the landscape laid in the open for all to capture. On impulse, he took a picture and uploaded it to Hwan (a social media platform where sharing photos were most prominent). Thwan was also another platform more focused on jesting or quoting sentences from other users. The two were linked and could be used dependently or not. The viral video about him cooking was on a differing website named Lokka – there, one could find countless videos from all over the planet. Tis was the trifactor of Arcanum Influence – Hwan, Thwan, and Lokka. 

At the end of the day, it amounted to nothing but a whim. The popularity granted by Lokka calmed to have a milder following. After rejecting so many times by the press and magazines, Igna's presence faded. 

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" 

"Lady mother, why are you up so early?" turned he holding a warm-cup of tea.

"Don't you remember what happened yesterday?" she leaned against the doorway tormented by perpetual yawns, dark-circles made her already melancholic face into pure woe.

"No?"

"You came home half-dead and half-asleep. I know what happened," she slid onto the comfy couch, "-nobles and stuff. I said to not get involved in politics…"

"I apologize, mother."

"It's fine," she turned the television, "-I'm going to meet lady Goldberg later today. A mother should clean up her son's mess," she peeked over, "-isn't that right, my dear son?"

*Cough,* "-sorry, I only wanted to help my friends."

"I know, nothing wrong about it. I'm still going to hold you accountable for the bike's destruction. No more keeping secrets else I'll throw you to the dogs, you hear?"

"Yes mother, I'll be more open next time."

"Good," the channels flicked faster than he could read, "-go meet them before work. A nurse called me earlier, someone's looking for you."

"Alright," jumped into the chef's outfit, "-see you later, mother." Familiarity made him drop the 'lady' mantle when addressing Courtney. They became close. 

After being informed of the incident, the Adventuring Academy tried to contact the parents to no avail. Thus, nothing more was done. As told by doctor's, injures weren't grave. Only lack of mana and fatigue. They did use magic to heal Leonard's legs. The paralyzing effect bound him to bed for three days at most. 

"Hey," the large white room opened to flowers followed by Igna.

"Hey," waved a still drowsy Lampard. 

"Feeling better?" 

"Yeah, I guess. Last night was an adventure – man, being chased by adventurers was scary," the articulation stopped, "-I'm sure you died last night, Igna, what happened?"

"I don't know the specifics," he eluded the question, "-what about Rena and Jen, are they ok?"

"See for yourself," he pointed. 

"So peaceful," mumbled he at the sleeping ladies. 

Leonard's bandaged leg was itchy, he'd often try to scratch with a plastic spoon, "-Igna, thanks for yesterday."

"Don't worry about it. What happens next, what's the path you going to take? I'm sure you realize it's not simple anymore. Family or love?"

"Love, I think," said he smiling vaguely, "-I'll break ties and start over. The Dungeon Quest is a good opportunity to earn money. Once my leg is healed, I'm heading to Coria," in that instant, the words stopped short of Igna's mouth. He could have spoken but restrained himself. Leonard's attitude was different, the want of moving forward was strong and so, Igna happily gazed upon his comrade.