The Slayer Ascension: Cursed and Blessed.-Chapter 64: Uneasy Feeling

The truth was simple.

Only a madman would call that kind of dead glare lovely. A stare sharp enough to scare corpses back into their graves.

Gazel looked bleakly at his insane friend.

Then Blaze burst out laughing.

His grin stretched unnaturally wide, laughter spilling out of him without restraint. Loud. Ugly. Free. Loud enough that several people nearby threw them strange looks.

Blaze either did not notice.

Or did not care.

"Stop laughing. It's not funny," Gazel said flatly.

His gaze was calm, but his fingers twitched with irritation.

Blaze tried to stop. Failed. He clutched his stomach like a man fighting for his life.

"S sorry," he wheezed, wiping his eyes.

Gazel's fingers twitched harder.

It took everything he had not to plant a very sharp, very destructive punch into Blaze's face.

"Okay," Blaze said, finally calming down. "But it's kinda funny though."

That damn grin was still there.

"Don't you see the lovely gaze?"

He turned to look again.

So did Gazel.

The grin on Blaze's face died instantly.

The girl stood there, unmoving.

Short black hair, messy yet brushed at the same time. Deep black eyes with a faint purple hue buried inside them. Her gaze was not violent. Not aggressive.

That somehow made it worse.

There was no emotion. No expression. No warmth. No curiosity.

Nothing.

She just stared.

Dead eyes locked directly onto Gazel.

A chill crawled down Blaze's spine.

Hell. She is scary.

"Y you see," Blaze said quickly, forcing a smile that barely held. "At least you've got some attraction going on."

He changed the topic immediately.

Gazel noticed the forced smile. It did nothing to calm him. He still wanted to punch Blaze. He simply chose not to. For now.

"Do you have any idea why we were summoned here?" Gazel asked.

"The orb sounded urgent. Whatever this is, it's important."

Blaze did not answer right away.

That alone was strange.

If Gazel knew one thing about his unpredictable friend, it was this. Blaze always knew more than he let on. Always. So his silence meant only one thing.

He was being dramatic.

Sure enough, Blaze placed a hand on his chin and closed his eyes, striking the pose of an ancient sage contemplating the secrets of the Dao.

Gazel resisted the urge to sigh.

After a moment, Blaze opened his eyes. They gleamed with excitement.

"There are two reasons I can think of," he said. "One good. One bad."

He smiled.

"Which one do you want first?"

"The good one," Gazel replied immediately, irritation bleeding into his voice.

He had suffered enough lately. He was not in the mood for more bad news. Almost killed by the white freak. Swindled dry by that enigmatic youth.

Facing a twisted demon that had more than enough power to kill him, yet somehow escaping alive. Nearly being eaten raw by a demonic rat. And that still was not all.

Meeting Blaze.

Being dragged into that insane world with its brutal condition, a place that almost killed them more times than he could count. Breaking free only to learn that a lunatic Shural, supposedly the keeper of that very world, was now hunting them. If they were careless, they would die by his hands before ever becoming Shural themselves.

What neither of them knew was the truth.

They were not the ones who broke that world.

Xon was.

But they were the ones shouldering the consequences.

After weeks of bad luck piled on bad luck, danger stacked on danger, Gazel wanted no more bad news. Not even a little.

"I think they're going to inform us about the selection exam," Blaze said, snapping Gazel out of his thoughts. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

The selection exam.

Every blessed human had to take it. A trial meant to prove they were qualified to kill demons. To protect humanity. Being blessed did not mean being capable. It did not mean surviving. It certainly did not mean becoming a full fledged Shural.

And that was not even the whole story.

There were things about the exam no one spoke of openly. Things only revealed during the briefing.

Gazel exhaled slowly.

"I assume that's the good news," he said. "So what's the bad one?"

Blaze's expression changed.

The playful edge vanished. His face hardened, grim and tight. When he spoke, his voice dropped to a near whisper.

"I heard a few Shurals were murdered."

Gazel stiffened.

"The worst part," Blaze continued, "is that it happened inside the Bulwark."

The word murdered slammed into Gazel's mind.

Death.

His body tensed instantly. A sharp headache split through his skull, like he was forgetting something important. Something buried deep. The sensation passed just as quickly, leaving behind a cold doubt.

Until now, Gazel had painted the Bulwark as absolute. Untouchable. A place of overwhelming authority and control. Who could blame him? The power the white freak had displayed was something Gazel never imagined could exist.

If even Shurals could die here, then maybe the Bulwark was not as invincible as he believed.

Blaze mistook Gazel's silence for fear.

He nodded knowingly.

"I know, right? Someone getting killed inside the Bulwark is disturbing," Blaze said. "But I believe the head Shurals will shed light on it."

They were still talking when the bells rang.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

Deep golden chimes rolled across the summit, silencing the crowd instantly.

A massive raised platform descended from above.

Figures dressed in the familiar black and white Shural uniform stepped forward. Different ages. Different builds. Different presences. Yet all of them carried the same unmistakable weight.

On their chests gleamed silver badges.

One star.

Two stars.

Those were the higher ranked Shurals.

And by higher ranked, he meant truly higher ranked.

Unlike the bronze Shurals, the silver rankers were older, far more experienced, and leagues more powerful. Their presence alone bent the air. But before the duo could process further, a figure appeared beside the platform.

No warning.

No sound.

One moment the space was empty. The next, he was there.

Dressed in silver clothing, posture relaxed, effortless, like someone who did not need to prove anything. He looked like a cool ninja straight out of a myth. The silver badge on his chest bore three stars.

A three star silver rank Shural.

Gazel had no idea who he was.

Blaze's shining eyes told him everything.

"That guy is a big deal," Blaze whispered.

"You don't know him?" Blaze asked, staring at Gazel like he had just admitted to being illiterate.

Gazel said nothing.

How was he supposed to know? He had barely left Deodor City. Most of his life had been spent between forests and the Trystan Manor. He had only heard of the Shural organization a few weeks ago.

Blaze shook his head and muttered under his breath.

"You're hopeless."

That did it.

Gazel reconsidered his earlier restraint. He was now absolutely certain he was one comment away from thrashing Blaze.

Sighing dramatically, Blaze spoke in a reverent tone.

"That guy is Nightflash. The youngest Shural to ever blaze through the ranks in under seven years. The shining star of the organization. Some say he's seventeen. Others say eighteen. A few even believe he's sixteen."

Blaze paused.

"Whatever his age, he's the youngest person to ever reach three star silver rank."

Gazel nodded.

He did not care.

He was about to ask if more were coming when the sky answered for him.

A thunderous crash split the air.

Rocks tore free as a figure slammed down near Nightflash, the impact violent and destructive. The ground ruptured. Dust exploded outward.

But Nightflash was already gone.

In less than a blink.

When the dust cleared, a man stood bare chested, his body carved with claw marks and scars that told stories of brutality. Raw power radiated from him.

Another arrival followed.

Less impact. No less dangerous.

A woman descended, long black hair flowing, her landing cushioned by what looked like a living vine. She smiled when she straightened. Soft. Round. Gentle.

That smile lied.

Then came a man dressed in simple white clothes, a golden sword strapped to his side. Golden hair. Warm grin. He even waved at the crowd like he was greeting old friends.

The air did not relax.

And finally, one more arrived.

A young man with white hair walked in normally. No spectacle. No destruction. Dressed in a black overcoat. His mouth hidden behind a mask.

Ordinary.

Too ordinary.

The moment Gazel saw him, his heart raced.

It's him.

The white freak.

Gazel was not the only one who reacted.

The blond youth who had drawn so much attention earlier finally opened his eyes. His gaze locked onto the new arrivals as he counted silently.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

His calm cracked.

A sliver of killing intent leaked out as his hand trembled inside his pocket. A buried memory clawed its way to the surface.

Five of them.

Venom flooded his thoughts.

All of his targets were here.

To be continued....

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