The castle’s architecture bore the hallmarks of an intricate and monotonous design, with corridors resembling the scales of a giant serpent. These passageways served as a myriad of defensive mechanisms for a unified stone organism. To anyone not born and raised within these ashen walls, navigating the castle felt like a labyrinth in itself. Only the darkest, narrowest, or crooked paths led to strategically significant places for Azur. One such place was the library of the Council chamber, a favored retreat for scholars, particularly the Archmage, as Suri later discovered.
In stark contrast to the warriors, the influence of the Savants Circle reached far beyond mere artifacts and runes; it embraced anything that could bolster survival in the treacherous dungeon. Despite having regarded the pale denizens of Azur as integral members of the hunter squads, they deliberately overlooked physical training. For those who never left the castle walls, such exertions were deemed a futile expenditure of precious time. What a cruel irony for Suri, who had yearned above all to delve into the accursed Labyrinth.
***
The slender woman couldn’t divert her gaze from the door, tapping rhythmically with her nails. What had always captivated her attention had now lost its former allure. She had anticipated the arrival of a new diversion, and thoughts of the upcoming meeting brought a sweet smile to her thin lips.
For blood mages, all doors of the aerial castle had been wide open. But, the girl had a preference for the library, showing no interest in getting closer to the other inhabitants. It appeared that the secrets of runes held an irresistible fascination for her. Such a trait was perfect for a mentat and, for the Archmage’s apprentice, deemed a necessity.
Upon Suri’s appearance at the threshold, the woman sprang to her feet. The girl exchanged greetings with her mentor and then moved on, concealing herself behind the shelves. The wait wouldn’t be long, but she preferred this approach over spending half an hour extracting information bit by bit.
“How many times I’ve observed you, and you never fail to amaze me,” exclaimed the woman, appearing behind a pile of scrolls. “Aren’t you interesting at all?”
“You didn’t sleep again all night?” Suri retorted, brushing off the excited interlocutor. How could this woman teach anyone at all? In just a few days, all Suri had seen was an unrestrained, expressive temperament and curiosity, which ranked higher than the responsibility of a prior.
Archmage Velda playfully shrugged, almost running closer. She intended to grab the mage by the shoulder, but halfway, she pulled her hand away. Even so, the reserved behavior of the apprentice did not repel her.
“Oh, let’s go! I’ll show you something very interesting,” the woman murmured, squinting her eyes. Fluffy lashes quivered with impatience. The invitation was quite in line with her spirit. Suri sighed, eyeing with longing the scrolls she had set aside earlier.
“If you’re going to ask me to copy another rune, then I’ll decline your company. I don’t need a mentor-mentat.”
The woman feigned an offended pout, yet her playful demeanor vanished when the blood mage failed to react. The gaze of her black eyes turned cold.
“It will be useful for you,” the Archmage stated, pointing to the door. “A scout of the first rank has arrived. Blood mages are returning.”
No wonder she was a prior. Archmage Velda understood all too well the desires of other hearts. For the inexperienced girl, witnessing what awaited her on the surface might temper her zeal.
At the exit, Cassia awaited the blood mage. Since that day, she hadn’t uttered a word, but she still followed Suri, precisely carrying out any task. The tension between them showed no signs of diminishing, something the keen nose of the Archmage did not overlook.
“You can choose any servant you want. There’s no need to tolerate this girl,” the woman stated. “Someone trained in the sciences is better suited for our service than a neophyte among warriors.”
Cassia frowned and lowered her head even further. If the blood mage rejects her, she will lose the opportunity to undergo the trial and become a hunter in the future. After the grueling training she endured under her brother’s guidance, a bleak future in the craftsmen’s guild awaited her. Despite her feelings, Cassia couldn’t let the blood mage feel any resentment; otherwise, her brother wouldn’t forgive her.
The surprise was so intense that Suri’s eyebrows twitched. There was so much more she didn’t know about the spirited girl.
“Cassia is enough,” she concluded, leaving the topic. Who knows who else she might have to deal with in the future.
***
Never before in Azur had Suri seen so many warriors gathered in one place, as at the main gates. The return of the hunter squad from the Labyrinth always brought a sense of hope, especially after the scout brought news that the first rank had managed to capture a powerful beast.
Suri expected to hear triumphant cheers from the welcoming crowd, a noisy assembly filled with laughter of relief. Surprisingly, a tense and oppressive atmosphere dominated the square.
Closest to the gates stood the Paladin Ingwild, surrounded by warriors clad in armor and armed. They assumed defensive postures, some gripping the hilts of their blades as if anticipating not the return of comrades, but a sudden attack from the enemy.
The arrival of the Archmage and her new apprentice didn’t elude the watchful eyes of the Paladin. He tightened his grip on his chest, his lips forming a grimace.
“As always, dissatisfied with something,” the Archmage muttered through her teeth, still offering a slight nod as a greeting. The Paladin pretended not to notice and turned away. His behavior influenced the surrounding warriors. Still, prior`s status didn’t permit them to treat mentats the same way the Paladin Ingwild did. The warriors allowed the women to pass ahead, creating a separation at a respectable distance—something more than skin color dividing the Savants Circle and the Order of Warriors.
Though unspoken, a palpable tension permeated the air; one could almost feel the weight of the first rank’s presence.
The six weary silhouettes passed through the massive stone gates, warriors clad from head to toe in the guild’s finest creations. After twelve days in the Labyrinth, their faces had lost their former confidence, and their blades had dulled. The first rank had once again surpassed the limits of human capabilities, reaching new depths of the dungeon. But, it came at the cost of more than half the squad. Out of twenty experienced hunters, only seven returned alive.
One of the warriors dragged the abomination on chains. Hardly anyone could label it otherwise. Through the thin, dark-gray skin, glistening with copious slime, countless pale bones were visible. Bones protruded through the flesh on its limbs, forming elongated claws. As the creature moved, it pierced the ground, stretching its gaunt body to its full length. The putrid, foul-smelling carcass towered more than two heads over its handler.
On its smooth, featureless head, there were no eyes, but Suri was ready to swear that the thing was observing, preparing, and anticipating—craving the taste of prey, her. Something inexplicably drew the attention of the half-dead monstrosity, endowing it with a strange power.
Suddenly, the jaws, constituting a significant part of the entire head, opened, revealing dozens of razor-sharp teeth resembling crooked Needles. From somewhere deep within the foul throat, a sharp sound emerged, deafening and disorienting the victim. Suri instinctively covered her ears with her hands, defending herself against the sudden attack. Even then, the girl did not take her eyes off the beast, fearing that if she lost sight of it, she would become the target of its sharp claws. And everyone present shared this feeling.
The chain slipped from the warrior’s hands. As if expecting this, the creature bent its body to the ground and forcefully pushed off with its hind limbs. It caught a sweet aroma that drowned out all other instincts. Sinking its fangs into warm flesh. Tasting the fragrant crimson nectar.
The beast had surged through the rows of warriors, utterly indifferent to the strikes of experienced hunters. With each passing moment, its body accumulated new cuts and blows. Yet, as the beast advanced nearer to its prey, the onslaught became more intense.
The Archmage raised her hands, gathering strength for the most powerful suppression she could muster. The warriors closest to the woman staggered under the increasing pressure, attempting to retreat from the prior as far and as fast as possible. Someone hesitated and lost consciousness, collapsing to the ground. Yet, the suppression couldn’t shield the blood mage from the Needle`s assault.
The woman bit her lip, exhausting all her resources in a desperate attempt to protect her acquired apprentice. This troublesome girl refused to share the secret of the runes. How could she lose such an opportunity because of some vile creature?
Suri paled; fear demanded that she run away as far as possible. But she couldn’t do that. She couldn’t run. An unknown feeling took hold of her body, urging her to concentrate, protect vital areas on her body, and brace for impact. If she turned her back, death awaited her. She focused so intently on the assailant that she completely ignored the demanding shouts of Cassia and her mentor. Everyone else ceased to exist for Suri. There was only her and the beast in the square.
Tearing through the warriors, the Needle approached. The stench and thick scent of blood hit Suri’s nose. The sharp aroma of death was so intense that she shut her eyes, an action she immediately regretted.
The beast raised its claw, ready to pierce its desired target. And Cassia stood between her and it. The foolish girl thought she could stop the blow.
“Cass!” a cry of desperation rang out. A warrior in light armor rushed toward the servant, pushing her aside with his entire body. No one could stop the strike of the Needle consumed by thirst.
Relief softened the features of the blood mage’s face. Suri saw what the warriors sacrificed in trying to stop the dungeon creation. She heard the Archmage’s cries of annoyance because of the useless tries to slow it down. She felt regret on the childish Cassia’s face.
In a critical moment, an arrow plunged into the gaping mouth. The projectile avoided a meeting with the numerous teeth, sturdy enough not only to deflect the trajectory but also to completely block the attack. The beast choked and bent over. The claw, oozing with slime, cut through emptiness.
Enraged, it struck, screaming. This time, the arrow allowed only eerie wheezes to escape. If one trick didn’t work, the Needle had plenty of others. The predatory maw pivoted, unerringly pinpointing Suri in the crowd. As much as the wounded limbs allowed, the beast pushed off, closing the last distance to the defenselessly trembling heart.
Heavy sheaths slammed into the Needle’s muzzle, stunning it. With a precise movement, the Judge pushed Suri aside, taking her place. But this time, the beast had no chance to turn the situation in its favor.
Discarding the sheaths, the warrior grabbed the hilt of the long blade with both hands. Precise strikes rained down on the protruding bones, severing limbs. The Needle collapsed under the weight of its own mass, like a lifeless lump. And the Judge continued delivering precise blows. The Needle seemed oblivious to what death meant. Slime bubbled from the hacked wounds, and loud clicks echoed from its throat.
“Stop!” Paladin Ingwild’s order rang out. “We need it alive!” His words seemed non-existent to the Judge. The sword blows became much more furious.
“This is the Council’s command! Halt!” This time, the Archmage intervened. Her voice softened, fighting against exhaustion, yet resonated much more persuasively with the Judge. Indeed, the Council’s will.
The sword froze. The surrounding warriors dared not move, fearing they would be the next target. A dozen warriors couldn’t stop the wounded and exhausted Needle. This is what the thirst for blood did to these beasts. And the Judge did it effortlessly. So, who was the real monster there?
Suri trembled, biting her lip. The metallic scent of blood not only filled her lungs but saturated her mouth, leaving a coppery taste.
The Judge turned.
An icy touch seized Suri’s throat, constricting her breath with a suffocating grip, and her eyes widened in terror. Time seemed to freeze as she stared, paralyzed, at the unrelenting figure before her. This time, the man didn’t retreat into the shadows, and Suri felt an overpowering wave of dread wash over her.
She had never seen a person whose title suited him so perfectly. His lifeless, penetrating dark gaze, short ink-black hair, and chiseled features spoke volumes about him being an arbiter of others’ destinies. The realization of his undeniable superiority made her stomach convulse with fear. Sweat broke out on her forehead.
Suri clenched her wrist, hiding the Thorn. Oh, it was a big mistake. The Judge’s attention immediately followed her movement, and a trace of displeasure crossed his otherwise perfect, inhuman face.
At that moment, Suri’s heart skipped a beat. In her mind, she pictured his blade crashing down on her, much like it had done to the beast moments ago.
“He’s infected. The hand is beyond saving,” intervened a nervous female voice. The Archmage leaned over the wounded, probing the bloody mess under what remained of the armor.
The Judge pivoted on his heel and approached the groaning warrior. In motion, he unsheathed another blade. Shorter but crafted from the same unknown material.
“I am a hunter!” the wounded warrior shouted upon seeing the Judge. “A hunter! A hunter…” Only the heavens knew where the barely conscious man found the strength for those words.
But the Judge’s blade remained impervious to any pleas, and in one cut, it severed the injured hand.
