Chapter 62: The Perfect Bait

The Pig-Mask Cult.

"...Cult..."

Eric’s voice trembled like broken glass, spilling from amidst the mud.

His jaw twitched, blood pooling from the wound as never before had he feared for his life.

His eyes were fixed upon the looming figures shrouded in the mist: their tall sinister dark red masks glinting ominously.

Something within him stirred deep within, something savage and fearful; not of losing his life or being injured, but of something far greater.

The pig-masked cult in the Eastern Federation, were not mere petty street gangs or hired mercenaries. No... this was a forbidden syndicate of forbidden practitionners that worshipped unholy entities from ages long past. Those who served under it’s banner left a trail of destruction and gore in their wake; masses of butchered village folk, young martial artists skinned and their bodies nailed to the ground with rows of shimmering Qi cores, used as material for blood arrays.

Eric had heard the tales whispered in his youth and never thought he would see such terrors with his own eyes.

"The... the..."

Whatever foolish bravado had been in him before vanished with the next instant as Eric attempted to propel himself backwards using his elbows, his body bruised and battered against the rocks.

"No..."

His breath hitched, his heart hammering like a frantic drum against his ribs,

"No, no, no!"

His gaze snapped towards the entrance of the ravine, his eyes wide as terrified marbles,

"How in the heavens did they get inside the trial area?! Where are the instructors?! Where are the heavily armed guards?!"

At the words of the figure before him, who wore Roy’s face, the boar mask cult leader, stepped forwards with a single boot planted firmly against a frozen pine cone that shattered into dust with CRUNCH.

In the gloved hand of the cult leader was a jagged executioner’s cleaver forged from twisted dark metallic iron, it’s uneven edges catching the unhealthy green hue.

"Noise."

The voice of the cult leader almost sounded like the grinding of two massive millstones against dry bone, but what emerged from his voice was unmistakably human.

"High-born cattle all make so much noise..."

The cult leader tilted his boar mask slightly and chuckled,

"...when the slaughterhouse doors shut."

He didn’t glance at the four retainers but with a flick of his left wrist there came a SWISH from the sleeve and two slivers of pitch black shadowy wire launched from within. The severed wires were crafted from corrupted shadow-silk and almost impossibly thin, winding their way like striking vipers across the air as the retainers barely gasped in time.

SLICE.

A moment later the four retainers had gone silent, their necks pierced by the twin wires which bore no hesitation in passing through steel plate, sinew and bone alike.

SLICE.

Within a heartbeat four heads laid upon the mud of the gorge, their bodies plopping against the basalt walls with wet squelches and blood slicked the stone walls before the green mist devoured the liquid and drank it in with ravenous thirst.

"AHHHHH!"

Eric cried out in alarm, his head connecting with hard stone as he forced himself backwards. His blood stained fingertips grasped at the folds of the dark cloak worn by a lone figure bearing stone boots.

"Lucian! Please save me!"

His voice cracked into an unrestrained panic,

"Use your spatial art to get us out of here!"

His grip tightened,

"I’ll reward you handsomely! The Vance family will pay gold, spirit crystals and high ranked martial manuals to anyone who saves me!"

He glanced desperately at the three masked figures before him,

"Just please don’t let them kill me!"

Lucian gave no expression as he regarded the three figures that blocked the entrance to the ravine. Not once did he kick Eric away, nor speak comforting words; his gaze lingered solely on the figures before him as Lucian crossed the distance, ignoring the moaning retainer whose eyes rolled back and down the stone walls.

"Lucian."

The cult leader spoke, boots clicking against the rocks as the stepped over the fresh kill and halted ten yards before the stoic young hunter. Behind his mask, the cult leader’s crimson hue flared briefly as he gave a slow appraising nod at Lucian from head to toe.

"Another commoner... from the Third Academy. Barely a trace of noble blood in your veins."

Setting the heavy executioner’s cleaver against is shoulder he continued,

"...and yet you had the audacity to enter Black Snake Ravine without blinking an eye."

Lucian showed neither fear nor emotion as he watched the cult leader for several moments.

"You put a lot of effort in setting the five kilometer array..."

His eyes swept the misted landscape briefly before settling on the masked figures again,

"...only for one measly hunter from the frontier."

A ghost of a smile played across Lucian’s lips as he regarded the cult leader with something akin to amusement,

"I must admit I’m mildly impressed."

"Save the flattery for the grave, boy." A guttural chuckle rumbled from the cult leader’s leather masked grin,

"You’re just a catalyst."

He tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing,

"A piece of meat strung on an iron hook."

The cult leader’s gaze drifted north west where the jagged peak of Zone 3 vanished into the white misted horizon.

"Lucian, boy..."

He took a single forwards, boots clicking against the rock as before him, Lucian remained silent and unmoving,

"We know all about your little interaction at the staging gate."

The crimson flicker behind the cult leader’s mask seemed to burn brighter as he regarded Lucian,

"We know about the haughty way Miss Pearl of Sterling family looked at you."

Lucian’s brow furrowed slightly but he remained silent. It was enough for the cult leader to release another chuckle,

"The Sterling family’s Azure Phoenix bloodline..."

His voice almost took on reverence,

"...a radiant pure flame."

Slowly he raised the cleaver in his hand,

"It would make most exquisite material for our ancient altar."

Another single step and he stopped just before Lucian’s line of sight.

"But Lady Evelyn is clever." His voice was unusually calm now as his crimson eyes locked on to Lucian,

"She keeps her vanguard of heavily armoured soldiers at Zone 3, guarded twenty four seven by S-Ranked team leaders and military watches."

Lucian’s expression remained unreadable as the cult leader gestured with one hand, the tip of the bloodied cleaver pointing at Lucian’s chest.

"Unless..." Almost a whisper as the cult leader’s chuckling ceased,

"Unless her little commoner friend happens to lose someone very important."

The green mist curled around the cult leader’s feet as he continued,

"Unless her emergency watch detects a corrupted distress pulse in the Black Snake Ravine... then she’ll be most delighted to come to your personal aid, boy."

He was lying. It was obvious and it was something only an amateur would fail to notice. Not only because it seemed as though the cult leader hadn’t come for Lucian personally; no, it was because they were using Lucian as bait to lure out Evelyn.

The cult leader’s laugh rasped like the wheezing breaths of a dying old man.

"Girl is already on her way."

The cult leader chuckled, his eyes narrow behind the boar mask, the crimson hue burning bright,

"As soon as our secondary array lit up she broke away from Team Alpha."

A step closer and Lucian narrowed his eyes,

"She’s sprinting down the ridge towards this very ravine."

Another cruel chuckle escaped the cult leader as his eyes flicked towards the western sky,

"Completely unaware that her path leads straight into six-fold Blood-Drain Cage."

Once again Lucian’s brows furrowed and the cult leader sighed, setting his cleaver aside and relaxing his stance. It was over. At least from how he saw it. Everything had played out as set for the most part and the only uncertainty was whether or not Evelyn would come. Once she did things would become ’far more interesting’. For now the cult leader wanted a good show; the more prolonged the better.

"We’ll tear off your bones, carve off your skin and nail living you to the cliff wall above us."

The cult leader gestured with the cleaver he held, pointing towards the cliffs as Lucian remained motionless,

"When Evelyn Vance arrives to rescue you... she’ll see your blood seeping onto our altar’s stones."

His voice dropped to a hushed whisper,

"And let her rage do the rest."

Beside the cult leader, the two other pig-masked assassins had begun drawing their curved bone daggers from their belts, the SHING of the movement following as their bodies knelt low. Shadows cast long across the ice floor as they prepared their assault.