Realm Lord
Chapter 79: New Arrivals

Chapter 79: New Arrivals

Arthur didn’t linger to relish in the small victory of escaping death. The knight’s momentary setback was just that—momentary—and he knew with grim certainty that the armored horror would resume its attack within seconds. Every heartbeat was precious now.

He scrambled across the stone floor toward Aziel, his boots slipping on ancient dust as he closed the distance between them..

Aziel remained propped against the wall, his chest heaving with exertion. Despite the dire circumstances, an almost delirious grin stretched across his dirt-streaked face, eyes bright with the peculiar euphoria that sometimes follows a brush with death.

"You see that shit?" Aziel wheezed, pride evident in his strained voice as Arthur reached him.

Arthur ignored his companion’s ill-timed celebration, grabbing Aziel’s arm and pulling it around his shoulders in one swift motion. He winced as his weight shifted onto his injured leg but didn’t resist Arthur’s assistance.

Behind them, the knight was already recovering. With mechanical precision, it reached up and tore the lightning-infused spear from its chest plate as though it were nothing more than a minor inconvenience. No blood flowed from the wound—if there even was a wound beneath that impenetrable armor. The creature discarded the weapon with contemptuous ease, tossing it aside as if it weighed nothing.

The spear never reached the ground. Instead, it dissolved into a cascade of blue-white sparks that scattered across the stone floor before winking out of existence.

The knight’s sheep like helmet tilted downward, its metal eyes fixed on the two wounded fighters. Then it charged, each thunderous footfall sending tremors through the ancient stonework.

"Move!" Arthur hissed, half-dragging Aziel toward the chamber’s exit.

His free hand fumbled with the heavy iron door handle, fingers slipping on the rust-pitted metal as panic threatened to overwhelm his coordination. Aziel’s weight pressed against him, and they both leaned heavily against the wooden surface, desperation mounting as the knight’s footsteps grew louder behind them.

With a final twist and heave, the mechanism inside the door gave way with a reluctant groan. Their combined weight, already committed to the push, sent the door flying open. Momentum carried them forward into empty space, and they tumbled unceremoniously through the threshold, landing in an ungraceful heap on the floor beyond.

They disentangled themselves hurriedly, arms unwrapping as they scrambled to turn over, backs pressing against the floor as they faced the doorway. Arthur’s hand found the hilt of his sword, though he doubted it would do much good against their pursuer. Aziel raised his palm ready to re summon his spear.

The knight’s silhouette appeared in the doorway almost immediately, its imposing frame nearly filling the entire opening. Its head swiveled slowly, taking in the two prone fighters, the exposed sword ready at Arthur’s side, the nascent energy crackling weakly between Aziel’s fingers.

And then—inexplicably—it stopped.

The knight stood motionless at the threshold, its posture rigid and menacing, yet it made no move to enter. Seconds stretched into an eternity as they waited for the killing blow that never came. The armored figure simply stood there, observing them from behind its mask, an inscrutable sentinel guarding the boundary between rooms.

Before either Arthur or Aziel could process this strange development, the heavy door swung shut on its own accord, moving with the same supernatural force that governed all doors in this accursed castle. The thick wood slammed into place with a resounding boom that echoed through the corridor, sealing them away from their relentless pursuer.

The sudden reprieve hit them like a physical force. They both collapsed back against the floor, muscles going slack as tension drained from their bodies. Arthur’s chest heaved as he gulped down air, his lungs burning with each breath. Beside him, Aziel let out a half-laugh, half-groan of pure relief.

’This has got to be the third time I’ve found myself laying on a floor panting in relief after barely escaping death,’ Arthur thought grimly, staring up at the white stone ceiling above them. ’That’s three times too many.’

He noticed absently that this room was different from the others they’d traversed. The stones here were white instead of the usual gray, and the chamber was better lit, though he couldn’t immediately identify the source of illumination. His mind was just beginning to process these differences when his view of the ceiling was suddenly obstructed.

A constellation of weapon points materialized above them, all aimed directly at their prone forms. Arthur’s body tensed instantly, the brief moment of relief evaporating like morning dew beneath a harsh sun.

A face leaned into his field of vision—a woman with striking features that commanded attention. Long black hair was pulled back into a practical ponytail, highlighting sharp cheekbones and a jawline that could cut glass. She wore what appeared to be military-style camouflage gear, functional and well-worn. Her beauty was undeniable, the kind that might make a man forget himself in different circumstances.

But it was her eyes that truly captured Arthur’s attention—piercing, analytical eyes that seemed to dissect him where he lay, stripping away pretense and examining what remained with clinical precision. There was no warmth in that gaze, only assessment and calculation.

"Who the hell are you guys?" Her voice matched her eyes—sharp, authoritative, brooking no evasion.

Arthur stood up slowly, his mind struggling to catch up with this latest development. ’...What.’

The transition from fighting for their lives against the knight to being held at weapon-point by what appeared to be other humans was so abrupt that his brain struggled to bridge the contextual gap.

After a tense standoff, they were permitted to sit up properly, though the weapons remained trained on them with unwavering discipline. Arthur and Aziel took the opportunity to explain their situation—how they were recently teleported chosen, recounting their harrowing journey from the beginning as succinctly as possible... minus a few key details like Luke and what happened between them.

Four individuals stood before them—three men and the woman who had spoken—all wearing similar military-style gear adorned with patches and symbols Arthur didn’t recognize. Their faces remained cautious, expressions giving away little as they listened to the impromptu tale.

When they finished, the woman’s eyebrows shot upward in undisguised astonishment. "WHAT!? You guys are first-timers? And you were sent all the way out here? To a completely unexplored region with an abomination guarding it?"

Arthur and Aziel exchanged a quick glance before responding simultaneously, their voices blending into an uncertain, "...Yeah?"

The woman looked around at her companions, disbelief written across her features. "I don’t know what I’m more surprised to hear... you were sent this far out, or that you’ve managed to survive until now."

Aziel’s posture relaxed slightly, a familiar cocky grin spreading across his face as he reached up to scratch the back of his head. "I know, right? I’m pretty awesome..." His grin widened as he leaned forward slightly. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

Arthur’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull as he whipped his head toward his companion, shock and horror battling for dominance on his face. Aziel continued to smile placidly, as if he hadn’t just said that to someone who had been pointing weapons at them mere moments ago.

Arthur slowly turned back to gauge the woman’s reaction, wincing internally as he prepared for her response. Her expression had shifted from stern surprise to utter confusion, her brows furrowing as she processed Aziel’s abrupt change of topic. After a moment, her stern gaze shifted to Arthur, the intensity of her focus making him physically jump.

"Is your friend stupid?" she asked bluntly.

Arthur didn’t hesitate for even a fraction of a second. "Yes."