Realm Lord
Chapter 69: Off Again

Chapter 69: Off Again

Aziel and Arthur both rose from their deep sleeps and greeted the horizon over a new view with a smile. The pale orange glow of dawn painted the desolate landscape in hues of amber and gold, transforming the barren expanse into something almost beautiful. The cracked stone beneath them had served as their bed for the night, leaving imprints on their skin and a dull ache in their bones, but there was something refreshing about waking up beyond the field of roses—something hopeful.

They didn’t speak at first, instead just enjoying the view and the fact that they were one step closer to making it back home. The morning air was cool against their skin, a welcome respite from what would undoubtedly become scorching heat as the day progressed. In the distance, heat waves already began to shimmer above the fractured ground, distorting the horizon into undulating patterns.

After a while of silence, finally Arthur spoke, his voice still rough with sleep. He cleared his throat and tested the energy flowing through his body before declaring, "My core feels filled again and most of my wounds are flesh wounds..." He pressed a hand against a particularly nasty gash on his arm, wincing slightly at the touch. "Painful, but I’ll manage. They’re already healing over."

Arthur’s fingers drifted to his thigh, where the deepest wound pulsed with dull pain. The skin around it had turned an angry shade of red, though thankfully there was no sign of infection.

"The wound on my thigh is the only one worth worrying about," he continued, prodding gently at the tender flesh. "It might cause us to move slower, but either way, at least we’ll be moving."

Aziel nodded, running a hand through his disheveled hair. He glanced down at his own body, cataloging the various scrapes and bruises that decorated his skin like a macabre painting. None were serious enough to hinder their progress.

"Yeah, most of my core is filled too..." He summoned a small flicker of lightning to his palm, satisfied when it maintained its steady glow for several seconds before he dismissed it. "And as for my wounds, I don’t have any that will slow me down, so we should get moving here soon."

He stretched his arms overhead, feeling the satisfying pop of joints realigning after the long rest. His muscles were sore but responsive—ready for whatever challenges this new territory might present.

Arthur sighed, a sound that carried both relief and apprehension. He was excited about moving on, the prospect of continuing their journey filling him with renewed determination, but the thought of walking for so long made his thigh hurt just laying there. He gazed out across the vast nothingness that awaited them, a landscape devoid of landmarks or guidance.

"We only have enough water and food left for maybe five days if we’re frugal..." Arthur’s tone grew somber as he mentally inventoried their dwindling supplies. "After that, because of us being Chosen, we’ll survive for longer, but we better hope there’s something beyond this wasteland... something close."

Aziel’s grin disappeared momentarily, a flash of concern crossing his features before he forced the smile back onto his face. The gesture wasn’t lost on Arthur.

"I’m sure it will be fine," Aziel said, the false confidence in his voice almost convincing. Then he slowly rose to his feet, dust from the stone ground clinging to his clothes. He looked down at Arthur, his expression shifting to one of mock severity.

"Your training will resume once you’re no longer limping," he stated. "Until then, if any monsters show up, I’ll handle it. You just... don’t get in my way."

Arthur chuckled as he fought through the pain radiating from his body while standing up. Every muscle protested, and the wound on his thigh sent sharp jolts of agony shooting up his leg, but he managed to stand without outwardly grimacing. Pride wouldn’t allow him to show just how much it hurt.

"Well, let’s get moving then," he said with more enthusiasm than he felt.

Aziel nodded, and they were off. The sun climbed higher in the sky as they walked, casting their shadows like thin spectres across the barren ground. Each step took them further from the nightmare they’d escaped, but toward what, neither knew.

Slowly they got farther and farther away from the field of roses... from the Reaper... from the temples... from Luke. The memories clung like phantom thorns, but with each passing hour, the physical distance grew. Soon it all faded into the horizon, becoming nothing more than a dark smudge that eventually disappeared altogether.

Their progress was slow due to Arthur’s injured leg. With each step, he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from wincing. Occasionally, when the pain became too intense, he would stumble, and Aziel would pretend not to notice—a kindness Arthur silently appreciated.

They wore tough faces and pretended everything was okay, exchanging occasional banter and forcing laughter that sounded hollow even to their own ears. But they could only bury the truth for so long. Their injuries might not be fatal, and they might be Chosen and heal faster than normal humans, but they weren’t invincible.

Their bodies needed rest, and not just one day on a tough stone ground—they needed true rest. The kind that came with soft beds, abundant food, and the security of walls. And even after that, they didn’t know how far they were from the World Core. They didn’t know how long this expanse of stone went on, and their food and water were dwindling... Things were bad. They knew it... deep down they both knew it, but neither could allow themselves to say it, as if only after saying it would the gravity of their situation finally feel real.

Instead, they continued to walk. Once the roses disappeared behind them, there was now nothing in sight from all directions except the stone ground beneath their feet. Occasionally, the cracks in the earth would widen into shallow chasms that they carefully navigated around, wary of what might lurk within those dark fissures.

The day went by without any attacks, the monotony of their journey broken only by brief rests when Arthur’s leg threatened to give out. As the sun began to set, painting the wasteland in deep crimson hues, they exchanged concerned glances but did not stop, scared of what night might hold in this new region.

But to their surprise, nothing happened. The darkness brought with it a profound silence and an array of stars unlike any they had seen before—bright, numerous, and seemingly close enough to touch. The night air grew cold enough to see their breath, but they pressed on.

They walked all through the night, their path illuminated by the eerie glow of moon that hung low in the sky. It seemed that, after all, they were completely alone in this wasteland—a realization that brought both relief and a strange sense of unease. The absence of danger was, in itself, suspicious.

Arthur used the darkness to speed up the recovery of his wounds. The darkness acted as a sort of painkiller, allowing him to walk a bit faster. The night’s energy flowed through him, mending torn flesh and easing inflammation with each hour that passed.

Aziel, surprisingly, seemed to be upset under the prospect of being relatively safe in this region. His fingers tapped together restlessly, and his eyes darted about, searching for enemies that never appeared.

Arthur simply rolled his eyes at his companion’s obvious disappointment and continued walking, one painful step after another, until the sun came up again, offering them a chance to rest.