Chapter 193 The Storm Approaches

The source of the awful smell that inhabited the swamps could be seen all around as he peered out of the carriage; bloated corpses floated in the shallow waters, along with discarded skeletons of fallen adventurers. It wasn’t just adventurers, either. There were desecrated merchant wagons, sunken into the ground with the very merchants being caught in the deathly grip of the valley.

What is this place?...I knew it was bad, but this is something else entirely, Emilio thought.

Giant frogs, larger than fully grown men, sat in the reeking waters, possessing bubbly, purple-and-black, mucus-moist skin as their vocal sacs expanded before using their tongues to clean up the bodies littering the swamp.

Just covering his nose wasn’t enough as the smell was overpowering, bolstered by the abhorrent stench he–

“Bleeegh!”

Leaning over the back of the carriage, he spewed the bile from his stomach.

“Just make sure to point that outside, please, this is a rental,” Roan called out from upfront.

This was the stark difference in experience between himself and a veteran adventurer like Roan, which Emilio realized; despite what he’d witnessed, death and shocking sights like this stirred him up, throwing him off. However, on the other end, Roan didn’t bat an eye–his heart was stone to such realities.

“...A place like this is just...” Emilio groaned.

It wasn’t a pleasant ride in the slightest, though he kept it on his mind that this was the last bridge between himself and the Guild Foundation.

An hour into the abrasive, foggy morning of the deathly swamp secluded between the ominous mountaintops, Melisande finally woke up. The bright, beginner mage yawned, stretching her arms up before freezing.

Melisande quickly covered her mouth and nose at the awful stench, looking around with tears in her eyes.

“...One, two, three, and–” Emilio counted, watching her.UppTodated from nô/v/e/lb(i)n.c(o)/m

On the dot, the silver-haired girl leaned over the back of the coach, spewing out her own disgust in liquid form.

“What the heck is this?!” Melisande asked.

Aiding the girl by holding her hair behind her shoulders, he gave her comforting pats on the back as she threw up over the back of the carriage.

“The ‘Styx High Swamps’–courtesy of our driver,” Emilio sarcastically said, not pleased either.

“It smells like spoiled meat...” Melisande groaned, wiping her mouth.

There was no desire to eat breakfast for either of them, with their appetites completely annihilated by the natural ‘reek’ that swirled in the isolated swamp. Meanwhile, Roan casually munched on a piece of bread while guiding the horses.

While he sat there, doing his best to try to read with teary eyes and his nose covered by the collar of his shirt, with Melisande fiddling with wind magic, suddenly–the air went quiet.

Rather than total silence occurring, the wind pressure had changed so suddenly that Emilio found his ears popping, causing him to look up just as–

As the ominous lich approached, turning the life nearest to it to death as the giant frogs dropped dead along with the grotesque fish occupying the swamp, everything went silent for a split-second–

Shooting down from the heavens, a bolt of cerulean cut through the valley, curving down from the storming clouds and into the accursed swamps. It didn’t just raze the diseased waters, but parted the land, bisecting it with a colossal strand of lightning that cut through the area like a blade.

As the lightning sliced through the lich, curving through its entire body in a sublime smiting, the bolt crashed against the ground with a blinding flash, revealing a figure born from the fulmination before–

CRACK.

A thunderclap rang through the ears of the aspiring adventurers, causing Melisande to cover her ears, wincing as Emilio stood there in disbelief at the feat of power only comparable to divinity.

Standing there with a blade that looked to be eastern made with its steel clad in cerulean lightning, a man dressed in all-black tucked his white-handled blade back into its sheath, guiding it in with his pitch-black glove.

In contrast to his dark attire, the figure responsible for the valley-rending lightning had silver hair that stood up as if gelled, sparked by the lightning he controlled.

“–Looks like I got here just in time,” the man said.

Just as he sheathed his blade, another thunderclap emitted; the statuesque lich was destroyed in absolution as the cut that had been etched through its physical form and soul alike, returned it to dust.

Who the hell is this guy?! Emilio thought.

As if reading his mind, Roan spoke, “That there is a royal pain in my ass: Faust Omnisul.”

That last name stuck into his mind as his brain went into overload, putting it together within a moment past the shock he was experiencing.

“Omnisul?...” Emilio slowly repeated, “...My family?”

Approaching them after the bombastic showing of power, the mysterious figure bearing the surname in relation to Emilio, recognized Roan.

“Ah, Red Hair, so you were here? Perhaps I didn’t need to worry,” Faust said, “Though missions like these do motivate me.”

“Leave it to the Nihilum Core,” Roan replied, “Always diligently working to protect the Guild Foundation.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re trying to provoke me, Red Hair,” Faust said, “You had your chance to join the Nihilum Core–you could’ve made a real difference. Still, you choose to laze your way around to success.”

“Can’t say it hasn’t failed me,” Roan lackadaisical responded.

It almost seemed like fate that the two grown men, who seemed to both be veteran adventurers, though Emilio didn’t know what the ‘Nihilum Core’ referred to, were rivals; it was red lightning versus blue thunder.

“That was amazing...seriously,” Melisande told the man.

Faust smirked, “Worry not, young maiden, the Nihilum Core will always be there in times of great peril. That is our motivation.”

This guy is related to me?...He seems kind of...immature? Actually...that makes even more sense, Emilio thought.

Though he wanted to ask him directly, Emilio didn’t know exactly how to bring up the topic of familial ties, especially with a man he’d never seen before the prior minute, and unknowing if the Omnisuls and Dragonhearts were on ‘good standing’.

Before he could ask, Roan seemed to handle it for him, “Oh, hey, Faust, this is your nephew. Faust Omnisul, meet Emilio Dragonheart.”