Jinn BLADE
Chapter 92 | Arrow

Chapter 92: Chapter 92 | Arrow

The ship whirred low as it sliced through the void, its frame humming with a controlled energy as it passed through swirling clouds of darkness.

Beyond the reinforced glass of the ship’s windows, the blackness of space stretched endlessly, interrupted only by the jagged silhouettes of ancient wrecks.

Around was broken hulls and shattered steel drifted slowly, as if mourning the long-dead battles they had once served in.

Twisted metal floated in silence, half-consumed by the dark mist that curled and slithered through the void like a living thing.

Inside, the ship remained quiet, except for the gentle hum of its engine and the occasional mechanical click from its systems.

The silence, however, didn’t last.

"Are we close?" Zendrell asked, his voice impatient.

He sat strapped in near the front, his armored legs bouncing restlessly, fingers tapping against the sides of the seat.

"I swear, I can’t wait to bash the shit out of that motherfucker..."

Venedix, her eyes focused forward, kept her grip steady on the ship’s controls as the vessel darted through the debris with precise, fluid movements.

The ship’s sleek design allowed it to maneuver like a serpent weaving through the bones of long forgotten giant ships.

One sharp turn, then another.

Sparks briefly flared across the windows as they narrowly avoided a spiraling wreck.

Without a word, Venedix pressed a glowing button on the terminal before her.

*click...

The soft hiss of a system activating followed, and a synthetic voice echoed through the chamber.

"Autopilot engaged. Destination: Viranhell. ETA—six minutes."

The screen flickered, displaying an animated map, their route carved into a violent red path that ended at the heart of a black planet.

With the autopilot engaged, Venedix unbuckled her harness.

*clack!

She stood slowly, turning to face the others inside the vessel.

Her presence commanded attention—stern, poised, as if she carried the gravity of authority itself.

To her left sat Zendrell and Troy—the one who was cloaked in dark robes, his long black hair slightly disheveled, and his staff resting beside his leg.

Troy’s calm expression didn’t waver, though the flicker in his eye revealed a mind already racing with calculations.

House Nythrael’s prodigy was never one to relax.

Venedix’s gaze then shifted rightward, where a small group sat quietly, tension etched into every face.

Familiar figures.

Jinn’s friends.

They sat on a long bench facing her.

Garan, the brash drakkar of fur and claw, leaned forward with an irritated scowl.

Beside him, Biyo’s towering frame sat still, though his eyes glinted with a warrior’s anticipation.

Orin leaned against the wall, arms crossed, ever the quiet observer.

Verheydn, Vox, Kain, Hector and Ophelia sat across from each other, all silent, all tense.

"Ever the stubborn ones, the lot of you," Venedix said, her tone carrying an edge of amusement beneath its sharp delivery.

"But your defiance has value. All of you will prove useful on this mission."

Her eyes fell on Biyo and Garan, both of whom perked up in different ways.

Biyo raised a brow in his usual aloof way.

Garan, on the other hand, growled low, scratching the thick fur at the back of his neck.

"Bah! Why the hell do I have to be here?" he grumbled.

"I didn’t sign up to be dragged into some warzone led by the one who enslaved us herself."

"You don’t want to fight strong foes?" Biyo replied without missing a beat, the corner of his lip curling.

"Because there’s one waiting for us—right where Jinn is."

"Don’t play me, giant meat!" Garan barked, pointing a thick finger toward him.

"You’re baiting me into your damn battles again!"

"Can you two just—" Orin let out a tired sigh.

"Not do this right now?"

The argument might have continued, but Venedix cut through the tension with a voice sharp and clear.

"All of you," she said, "will be granted the opportunity to be free."

The words struck the cabin like a shockwave.

For a moment, silence reigned.

Eyes widened.

Heads turned.

Even Zendrell, previously lost in his own anticipation, looked up in surprise.

Garan’s growl fell silent.

Verheydn blinked slowly, clearly processing what he’d heard.

"You for real...?" Verheydn finally asked, disbelief thick in his voice.

"This must be a trick," Garan growled again, though there was less certainty behind it this time.

"There’s got to be some kind of catch."

"No strings attached," Venedix said plainly.

"No collars, no contracts. Fight alongside me on this mission, and you will walk free once it’s over. That is my word."

"Why?" Ophelia asked softly, staring at Venedix. "Why bring us? You’re one of the strongest people we’ve seen. You could go alone."

Zendrell chuckled darkly. "You think that bastard Malgareth is just some casual opponent? You’d need three Venedix to match him."

"No," Venedix replied without hesitation.

"I alone am enough to kill him."

That silenced everyone again—until she continued.

"But the true threat lies not only with him. The Queen of Viranhell and her lieutenants serve as a greater danger. And for that, I require capable hands. Capable warriors." She turned her gaze to Biyo.

"A warrior from Skjöldheim should understand what that means."

Biyo’s smirk returned, this time deeper, firmer.

"If you keep your word," he said, rising slightly, "then consider it done."

Then came a sudden sequence of high-pitched beeps from the overhead console.

The ship’s AI flickered back on, its monotone voice cutting through the thick atmosphere.

"Destination in sight. Viranhell entering visual range. Preparing for descent. Scanning... no hostiles detected within perimeter."

Outside the ship’s windows, the swirling black clouds began to thin, revealing the world below.

Viranhell.

The planet loomed beneath them like a scarred, sleeping giant.

Its surface was a patchwork of obsidian canyons and glowing rivers of red that pulsed faintly through the terrain like veins.

Lightning crackled in the sky above it—silent, but constant, as if the atmosphere itself rejected peace.

Zendrell stood from his seat, stretching out his limbs with a low grunt.

Troy followed, brushing a few strands of hair from his face as he tapped the staff beside him once against the floor.

"Brace yourselves," Zendrell warned, his voice harder now.

"From here on out, things are going to get dark as shit."

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