Chapter 480: Maria

Chapter 480: Maria



Emir lay flat on his back, hand tucked behind his head, enjoying a brief, well-deserved rest beside an unconscious Aquila.

Judging by his nigh-vibrating body, the tremors had stopped, allowing him to sink into the hard ground without complaint.

He let the tension seep from his muscles, but his mind refused to follow suit.

It was far from still. Far from relaxed.

He thought about many things-too many to count.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

Just how was he still alive?

Emir had faced someone far above him in strength, a bastard of a man wielding power two entire sub-ranks higher.

It should have been a guaranteed death sentence. Yet here he was, breathing and intact. Was it because another date had promised him death? Another place? Kar Babel?

Perhaps. And it'd all be thanks to that soon-to-be Starless Star of his.

Either way, judging by the current pace of things, it was a precarious gift.

The benefits of today were as well.

Emir had a few things planned for the Seraphims they killed, but...

"Oh, and before you go, you might want to check out the bodies. I think someone... relieved you of them. Quite the retarded oversight, wouldn't you agree?"

Judging by Judas's words, nothing remained for him to collect.

The bastard annoyed him like no other, more than Arthur even, something that he didn't believe possible before today.

Make no doubt about it; if Emir could, he would kill him right that instant, whatever the consequence.

But, unfortunately, he lacked the strength and equipment to kill a Celestial of that caliber. Truly... it was unfortunate.

In any case, the information about his family... Azazel—a surprise that was.

It turned out that the stories he'd found lying around the archive had some truth to them.

The leader of one of the ten ancient clans, Cecidi Angelus, had been revealed.

A man with many titles. Paragraphs long.

'He' was THE literal devil.

'How fun...'

With such thoughts in his mind, Emir's past words echoed, ringing true more than ever before.

"Even Gods are bound to slip."

Other than Adam-the one who once held Creation-Iblyees was the first Primordial he heard of actually meeting death.

That also confirmed what he learned in the gathering at Setrenc, cementing the chess pieces as valid sources of information.

Primordials could die and still survive, only losing an entire major rank in the process. It was a literal extra life.

However, from Emir's perspective, that seemed to be a fate not so different from death. After all, would the one who killed you stop once you regressed a rank? No.

They would finish the job.

left long before Amon ended his battle.

Plot. Character development. Theme.

It all changed.

The 'story' was corrupted, and from now on, any certainty Emir once had was lost.

It was far from ideal, his thoughts reflecting the frustration of it all.

But above everything else, one thing dominated his mind.

Lyra.

Where was she?

She was still missing, and every attempt to locate her had turned up nothing.

No trace of her last known location existed, as if every record had been wiped clean.

All they knew was that she'd veered off course, leaving the path that shadowed Sofia and her cohort before disappearing.

Lyra wouldn't have broken from the plan without reason-especially not against Emir's

direct orders.

She must have had something specific she needed to accomplish.

But what? And more importantly, why go alone?

'Wait...'

At that exact moment, when that question echoed in his mind, another name popped up to

answer it, but he couldn't exactly say what that answer was.

It was on the tip of his tongue, extremely faint but true, the syllables just out of reach.

That went against what he was—a walking library of information. But, for whatever reason,

that didn't seem suspicious to him, as if he was sedated, blocked.

Weird was the only way he could describe it.

The memory was there, but... wasn't. A familiar contradiction.

Emir tried again, diving through the corridors of his mind, searching through each mental

pathway, each shelf.

It was as if his library was submerged and he swam at the bottom, in the dark, pressure mounting with every inch forward.

Then, as he opened another 'book,' a ripple of déjà vu washed over him, tightening into a dull,

throbbing ache behind his eyes-a migraine pressing into every part of his brain.

Finally... he saw it, remembered it.

A glimmer, a memory broke through the dark depths, illuminating everything.

'Maria.'