The Harem of Juicy MILFs

Chapter 40: New Lead [8]

"Shit..." swore Yein. "Why is the vice master of Aegis Prime in this place?"

"Stop daydreaming," shouted Jin, who didn’t wait a second longer. His sword traced a deadly arc through the air, the blade singing like a bird of prey. He rushed at Gerhman, his feet striking the ground in rhythm, each stride digging a furrow in the loose earth.

Behind him, Yein moved like a shadow. She was no longer where she had stood a fraction of a second earlier, reappearing on Gerhman’s flank, two twin daggers dancing between her fingers. A pincer trap, a maneuver they had executed dozens of times, always with success. Gerhman watched them come as his smile widened.

Jin’s sword split the air where Gerhman had been standing, but the blade met only emptiness. Gerhman had moved, so quickly that Jin had not seen the movement. A twist of the torso, a simple shift of the hips, and the deadly attack was nothing more than a useless breath.

Yein tried to take advantage of the opening. Her daggers plunged toward Gerhman’s exposed ribs, two silver flashes in the gloom. But at the moment the blades were about to touch their target, a hand seized her wrist with prodigious strength. The pressure was such that she felt her bones grind.

"Not bad," murmured Gerhman, his face suddenly very close to hers. "Not bad, but you are much too predictable."

He hurled her against a tree trunk. The wood cracked, fissures spreading like spiderwebs around the point of impact. Yein collapsed, coughing, one hand pressed against her chest.

Jin roared, charging again, his sword tracing a series of rapid blows, a rain of blades that should have shredded any opponent. Gerhman dodged, parried, dodged again.

"You’re going to get tired," he observed, his eyes narrowed with obvious amusement. He took a step to the side, letting Jin’s sword sink into a trunk where it remained stuck. "Is that all you have? Really?"

Jin pulled on his weapon, but it didn’t move. He pulled harder, a growl of frustration escaping his lips. Yein was trying to get up, her daggers still in hand, but her legs were shaking.

The other zealot, until then frozen with fear, took a step forward, a spear of light materializing in his hand. "By the will of the..." he began.

"Enough," cut in Gerhman in a weary voice. His hand closed on the hilt of the sword stuck in the trunk and tore it out with a sharp gesture, as if uprooting a weed. He dropped the weapon at his feet, then took a step toward them. Their eyes widened.

"I wanted to give you a chance," he continued, his fingers stretching, his knuckles cracking. "I offered you an arrangement. I offered you a way out. But you chose..." he shrugged, a gesture almost apologetic "...the other option."

The tone changed. It was no longer the same man. His voice had grown hoarse, cold. His smile had faded, giving way to a neutral expression, almost empty. But his eyes, his eyes shone with a light that had nothing human.

"So let’s get down to serious business."

He moved. Not the kind of movement one can anticipate or follow. A displacement that defied perception, a passage from immobility to presence.

A dull sound.

The other zealot’s head snapped backward, then his body collapsed, a red trickle flowing from his half-open mouth. He hadn’t even had time to finish his prayer.

"One," counted Gerhman, his voice calm again, almost soft. He pivoted toward Yein.

She tried to raise her daggers, to cross them in a desperate guard. But Gerhman was already there, one hand closed on her wrist, the other on her nape. She felt her body lifted from the ground, then a terrible impact. The tree trunk behind her shook, and she slid along the bark, her eyes already glassy, a crack running along her skull.

"Two," said Gerhman, releasing his grip.

Jin had retrieved his sword. He brandished it in front of him, his hands shaking so hard that the blade danced. He took a step back, then another, his heels hitting a stone. He stumbled, caught himself, his eyes fixed on the silhouette advancing toward him.

"Wait... wait..." he stammered, his voice breaking. "We can... we can talk, right? We can find an agreement..."

"You had your chance," replied Gerhman, stopping a meter from him. He tilted his head, as if studying a curious thing. "You had it when I offered to talk. You had it when you chose to attack. You had it when I asked if that was all you had."

Jin opened his mouth to respond but no sound came out. His sword fell, clanging against the ground. His hands rose to his throat, where a thin red line began to appear, slowly widening.

"Three," said Gerhman, already turning away.

Seyon was frozen, leaning against a tree, her legs refusing to carry her. Her eyes went from the bodies of her comrades to the silhouette now standing in front of her. The acrid smoke from the explosions still floated in the air, mixed with a sweeter, more metallic smell.

Gerhman looked at her. He no longer had that condescending smile. He had nothing at all, just an empty and peaceful gaze, as if he had just completed an ordinary task.

"So?" he asked, his hands back in his pockets. "Do you want to explain to me why you are here? Or do you want to end up like your friends?"

Hae-neul joined them, stopping a few steps away. She said nothing, but her eyes scanned the scene, then settled on Seyon, heavy with silent attention.

Seyon opened her mouth, closed it. Her throat was dry, her lips chapped with fear. She looked one last time at the bodies of her companions, then raised her eyes to Gerhman.

"We... we’re here for a recovery," she said at last, her voice barely more than a whisper. "The cult sent us to recover the blood of the monsters."

Gerhman raised an eyebrow. "To do what?"

"I... I don’t know exactly. We were just told to go to the lower floor and bring back as much blood as we could." She was trembling, her fingers twitching nervously.

"Did you hear that?" Gerhman asked, turning to Hae-neul after looking at her for a long moment.

"Yes..." replied Hae-neul, nodding. "It looks like they’re preparing something big up there," noted Hae-neul.

"Exactly." Gerhman smiled, a gleam dancing in his eyes. "We’re going to have to pay them a little visit."

Seyon, still frozen, dared a question, her voice strangled by a fragile glimmer of hope. "Are you... are you going to kill me?"

Gerhman turned back to her, tilting his head. His smile was back, but it was different from earlier.

"No, at first I had decided to eliminate all of you, but I changed my mind," he said simply. "You gave me useful information. That’s fair, right? I just found a use for you."

Seyon didn’t need to be asked twice. She nodded while trembling with fear. She was ready to do anything to save her life, even if it meant betraying her organization.

Hae-neul approached Gerhman, her gaze following the direction where Seyon had fled.

"What do you plan to do with her?" she asked.

"I intend to infiltrate their base. To do that, we need someone capable of taking us there." Gerhman shrugged. "Besides, she can be useful in many ways. Instead of killing her, I prefer to keep her alive."

He started walking toward the next floor, his hands still in his pockets, as if he was coming back from a quiet stroll.

"So, this story about the collection..." said Hae-neul as she followed him. "In your opinion, what do you think they intend to do?"

"I don’t know what they intend to do, but I have my little idea. So it only remains to check if that is true," replied Gerhman.