Free Web Novel“Three Paw. Mind the flames. Another village has been set ablaze yonder. Must be the work of the Redfiends.”
A large figure darted through the rotting plains of the Larin Empire. The amber blades of grass were infested with a blight that ate the grass from the roots, causing it to lose its luscious green color.
The only color that stood out in these plains was that of the flames that engulfed distant villages, and the wall of fire that surged towards the horizon. Furthermore, the color of the figure’s coat who rode a giant wolf along these plains was the same as those flames, and the blood that dripped from the dagger by her hip.
Red. A vengeful shade of red found only in fresh blood and fire.
The face of the figure was concealed by their hood. But one had to be blind to believe she was anything but a woman. Not only this, but she was lightly armored, wearing a black dress paired with a frilly skirt that barely grazed her knees, and black thigh socks that had a slightly glossy sheen.
She wore expensive-looking black boots that were tied with red and white laces.
The only notable equipment she carried was the bloody blade that was strapped to her hip. It remained perfectly fixed to her hip despite how much her steed moved as it galloped across the plains.
Although, what she rode was not a steed in the slightest. ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm
“Bwa.”
The guttural, yet oddly squeaky sound came from the jagged maw of the dire wolf. It wore a coat of shadows which licked the air dark flames. Depending on the angle that one observed it, the three-meter wolf faded from existence, leaving behind its shadow.
Because of this, it was impossible to discern its true form, unless one knew exactly what this phenomenon was. There was only one species of wolf that could manipulate shadows, although they were considered long extinct since the Dark Ages.
However, that name was lost to time and the disappearances of countless civilizations during that era of darkness.
Speckles of ash fell as they approached the burning village. Accompanying this was a faint red mist that cascaded over the village like fog. It seemed to originate from within the village.
“Three Paw. Halt. Withdraw into my shadow.”
“Bwa.”
“A mutt must not speak back to its master; less it wishes to be slain by a bullet steeped in infinite hatred.”
“Bwa!”
Flakes of darkness burst from its black coat before it was sucked into the figure’s shadow. She moved instantly, leaping from its back a split second before it disappeared. The air she gained was utterly inhuman.
She soared fifteen meters into the air and arced spectacularly at the apex. She elegantly landed on the roof of a decaying building, gaining a vantage point as she briefly observed the town.
So gracious was her landing that the building, which was on the verge of collapsing, did not groan. Nor did her boots flake off the layer of soot that built along the rooftiles. Crimson eyes swept the village before landing at a crimson mound of bone and flesh. The amalgamation of flesh breathed out red mist into its surroundings, infesting the village with the Clot disease.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
“Here too. It wasn’t this bad when we first arrived in the Larin Empire.” The woman spoke to herself, her voice carrying a gravelly texture. “My condolences. How easily hatred spreads through the exchange blood as it does through bullets. They cannot be saved. Thus, execution is it.”
People infected with late-stage Clot roamed the streets. They were no longer human, and if they were, then it was already too late to save them. Evidence of a previous conflict saturated the village. Clearly, the Redfiends had visited, but did not eradicate the Clot.
If anything, they had specifically tormented the villagers and left them with the plague. The woman remained indifferent to this. Neither were they her responsibility nor in her care. Thus, there was no point in feeling any specific way about their tragedy.
Too common was death in these lands. Often, they were ordained by Kingdoms and the Ateliers without any regard for life. Not that the woman cared. However, there was a particularly stubborn half of her that despised this.
She produced her crimson blade. Bright, red light followed its tip as she carved the air before gazing into her own reflection in its blade. Crimson eyes carrying a bloody appetite stared back.
Blood spiraled in her irises. Small specks of gold could also be found along the rims of her irises, though they were barely visible.
“My apparel is still largely damaged by our run in with the First Night.” She announced, as though addressing an imaginary audience.
Her voice carried the gravitas of a commander, and her expression was hardened, for she had experienced her fair share of horrors. Clots were an existential threat to the living, whether they were humans, wretched Demi-humans, or otherwise.
But she could only see them as target practice.
A hand reached into the air and disappeared through an invisible veil. Retrieved from her [Dimensional Storage] was a white branch shaped like a giant ‘Y’. The lengthened portion was a transparent tube encased in glass.
She leaped from the rooftops and landed on gravel. Before dust could even kick up around her: she had already disappeared. Afterimages of the woman appeared throughout the village and tying them together like a string was a bloody trail.
* * *
The Vengeful Red-Hooded Assassin.
Otherwise known as the 333rd Phenom of Contempt: ‘Red’.
She became immortalized since her misadventure into the Larin Empire months ago. Needless to say, Red was the reason why the Larin Empire suffered enormous casualties and lost a quarter of its territory.
As a result of the incident, Red lost her Adventurer privileges, which made visiting civilized settlements and accepting Quests incredibly difficult. The Guilds blacklisted her and deemed her unfit as an Adventurer. Under normal circumstances, one would be listed as a Syndicate member.
However, the severity elevated her into the status of a Phenom of Contempt.
While it was unfortunate for the part of her that adored humanity and their settlements, the other half: which cared little for the notion of humanity: saw it as a blessing.
The woman’s name was Red.
She was a traveler who hailed from the ruins of Hearth, and the up-and-coming Adventurer who made waves in Gelbore City. Her feats were groundbreaking since the day she officially joined as an Adventurers.
Red was singlehandedly responsible for solving the Aire Handsaw and Grittle Incident, the rescue of a Fractured Dove, the elimination of an Eternal Night Corrutped in Gelbore City, had assisted in the defense of the 10th Branch against Scarlet Logic, and had even turned her blade against the strings of Act X, ImpulseWorks, and various organizations.
However, none of these feats meant anything to those who were not familiar with Emvita’s ecosystem. Thus, the current Red never resorted to boasting about her feats. To speak was to waste oxygen that could be better used by the body during combat.
Flashes of red strings of light illuminated the village streets. The flames seemingly dimmed in their presence, and the infected Clot that roamed the village dropped to their knees. Heads rolled from their shoulders shortly after their bodies were jostled by the impact.
Her speed, precision, and violence resulted in the instant cauterization of the jugular. The major mode of transmission for the Clot was through blood, be it in contaminated waterways, contact, or the air.
Her strikes were designed to kill, disable, and stop the spread all at once. Two minutes passed since she first arrived. Two minutes was all she needed to take down two hundred and twenty-eight Clot-infected Vampires with only a knife.
The feat was impressive in its own right. Although, the infected were often weaker than a basic Spiked Boar. However, among these corpses were heavily mutated variants of the Clot which could give Redfiends trouble.
Not only that but impaled on her dagger was the beating heart of a foul creature that did not belong to this infection.
