Brandon stared ahead as his gaze lingered on the individuals wearing masks.
A smirk creeped up on his face at that moment.
'They're here....'
Then, his gaze lingered on Amy's neck as he started removing his gloves.
"It's done. We have to go now. The Instructor should know about this location alr—"
Swoosh—!
One swift chop on Amy's neck, powered with mana, was all it took for Amy to lose consciousness, cutting off her words.
Laying the unconscious Amy in his arms, Brandon gazed ahead.
Then, their voices rang.
"So we just wait now?"
"...."
Brandon was familiar with them. Why wouldn't he be, when they were the Primordials' seated members themselves?
A woman with long lustrous peach hair, Illya, the Seventh seat. Followed by a man with dark–brown hair, Ivan, the Tenth seat.
Though he couldn't see their faces since they were wearing masks, Brandon knew it was them.
After all, he had already elaborated his plan and had managed to convince them to participate.
The only voice that resounded was Ivan's. After all, Illya was not one of many words, often reserved.
"Yeah."
Brandon nodded his head.
Truth be told, there was no need for them to be here. But on the off chance that Brandon fails, they were regarded as his contingency plan.
But it had to be said,
He didn't plan on failing.
"Are you sure you're going ahead with this?"
Ivan asked.
"Yes."
And Brandon nodded his head, bracing himself for what was to come.
"Okay, it's going to sting a bit."
Then, Ivan turned to Illya as she stepped forward.
"...."
***
Zeke traversed the maze–like corridors with profound speed, blitzing through the vast darkness that obstructed his vision.
Now that he noticed it, there were barely any monsters present.
No, not barely, he hadn't encountered anything at all.
Not just the monsters, but cadets alike.
Where the hell is everyone?
But he could surmise that maybe, the cadets were working together to face a certain monster they had found difficulty against.
For that reason, someone must've sacrificed their grades and clicked on the emergency button.
And most likely, it was around a certain area where Brandon Locke, Raven Blackheart, and Reinhard Van weren't present.
He gazed at his own bracelet.
He was close.
"...."
But then, he paused in his steps as a voice echoed throughout the labyrinth.
"Help! Over here!"
It seemed to be a male's voice.
Alerted, Zeke hurriedly followed the source of the voice.
Trudging the maze–like corridors until finally, it registered in his peripheral vision.
"Sir Zeke!"
There, he could see Brandon Locke, smeared with blood, with wounds etched on his body. On his arms, lay an unconscious Amy, who seemed to fare better than him.
They seemed to be in a chamber with torches on the ground, illuminating the vicinity.
It seems as if Brandon Locke had managed to prevent any harm towards Amy.
"What happened? Is it a monster?"
Immediately, Zeke ran towards them.
On the outside, he was worried. But on the inside, he could care less.
There, he could see the light of the torches reflect on a thin set of threads, piercing out of his chest.
"I missed."
A voice muttered.
It was Brandon's voice.
The pain reverberated inside his body as Zeke clenched his chest.
"You fucker!"
Cursing, magic power lashed out from Zeke, a veil of lightning wrapping around him.
Kracka!
Wrapping his fists in an aura of sparks, Zeke thrusted his fist forward. But at that moment, Brandon Locke's figure disappeared.
"...."
Zeke looked around.
"....?"
Several silhouettes revealed themselves around the fog.
"Fuck, where are y—"
Spurt!
Another set of threads pierced right through his thigh, and Zeke gritted his teeth, fighting against the pain. His legs lowered slightly, feeling the stabbing pain of the threads.
What the fuck is wrong with Brandon Locke?
'Why is he attacking me?'
He had several questions in mind, and ultimately he had arrived at only one conclusion.
Brandon Locke must've found out.
But how?
He had managed to sneak into society, even landing an instructing job in the academy.
It didn't make any sense.
If he had managed to trick the Imperial Army, then how does Brandon Locke know of his true identity?
That he was a native of the Milis continent.
Tzz—
Frustrated, Zeke began lashing out, zooming around the vicinity, trying to find any signs of Brandon Locke. Each step he took, the fog scattered, but would cluster themselves together in an instant.
But regardless of where he went, he couldn't find Brandon Locke. He could see his silhouette, but whenever he neared the silhouette, there was nothing.
As if it were a fake, trying to lure him.
"Surprise."
An indifferent voice reached his ears, and the reflection of a blade entered his peripheral vision.
Spurt!
Blood gushed out from somewhere. It took a second for Zeke to realize what just happened.
Thump!
"....!"
A thumping sound echoed, and Zeke's eyes widened in horror.
An arm had fallen on the ground.
And as he turned his head to look at where the blood was coming from, that's when he realized it.
It was his arm.
"Kaaaah!"
Zeke screamed and held onto his shoulder, blood gushing out from the narrow gaps of his fingers.
"Fuck y—Ukeh!"
An intense pain surged from his abdomen, feeling a heavy blow had just struck him. In that instant, Zeke was hurled away as he crashed onto a wall.
But it wasn't the end of it.
Chains shot from the ground and latched themselves onto Zeke's body. At that moment, Zeke felt his strength starting to fade as his complexions began to pale.
It felt as if his mana was being sucked away.
"...."
And as he gazed ahead, there, he could see the silhouette of a man. Emerging from the fog was Brandon Locke, his ink–black eyes stared back at him and a feeling of dread bottled up inside Zeke.
Swallowing his saliva, it felt as if Brandon Locke's gaze wanted to swallow him whole.
Crack!
The last thing Zeke saw was Brandon Locke cracking his fingers. His hands had been stained red, blood dripping from where his nails were supposed to be.
And then,
Darkness engulfed his vision.