OLD-WORLD EXTRA

Emir slipped through a narrow gap between the crumbling outer walls, avoiding the main door, which was blocked by a pile of debris.

Though he could've easily torn through the obstruction, he knew doing so would bring the entire unstable structure down on top of him.

The place was barely holding together as it was, and even the slightest disturbance could send it crashing to the ground.

Continuing to drag that headless body behind him, he searched around the building's basement, looking for a trap door.

It didn't take him long to find it.

There was no one guarding it, and that daughter he mentioned was nowhere to be seen.

As he expected, the "filthy bastard" lied.

Emir's hate for the pitiful man was a bit unwarranted, but it was also understandable.

They used his name on a man who looked like that-filthy, disheveled, and completely beneath him.

His obsessive need for order flared, but so did his pride.

It was an insult to him on every level.

But, as always, he had already calmed down, this time even faster, before even stepping inside the building, his mind quickly refocusing on the task ahead.

After checking the trapdoor for any threats, he pulled it open without hesitation.

He then stepped back and threw the filthy man's body down the hole.

A moment passed and he closed his eyes, focusing on his ears.

Thud...

They picked up on the faint sound of a body hitting a solid floor, its bones cracking slightly due to the impact.

He waited a few seconds longer and once he heard no other sound, he started to move, slowly descending down the ladder while his eyes checked for any traps on the way.

Even though dropping the body revealed there to be no traps, he wasn't sure, perhaps they had something attached to the ladder itself.

The hole was a tight squeeze, especially for a body his size, but he got through safely and eventually reached the bottom, dropping next to what remained of the homeless man.

Emir was about to pick him up but paused, surprise coloring his face.

His new surroundings differed completely from before, it was as if he had stepped into a different time period, an old era.

The place screamed gothic, even though it technically was just a long and wide hallway.

Its walls were rough and uneven, lined with old, tarnished metal sconces that held flickering torches, casting wavering shadows that danced on the ground. The air was musty, carrying the scent of damp stone, wood, and decay.

The floor was made of cracked tiles, some missing entirely, revealing stone covered in dirt and grime. The ceiling was high, arched with ornate carvings that had long since lost their original luster.

Cobwebs hung in the corners, presumably made by the designers themselves, and there was the occasional drip of water from somewhere above, adding to the atmosphere.

'Damn... at least she's got taste.'

Emir didn't let this new environment distract him for too long, snapping out of his wonderment with a single thought.

He picked up the headless body once more, not putting an end to his suffering just yet, and began dragging it along the cold floor.

The echo of the body scraping against the surface resonated through the empty corridor for a while.

After a minute or so of walking, his steps began to slow.

He was approaching a wall with a small door in the middle, where he knew an opponent waited.

From the outside, a few feet away, he could already smell it a faint scent of poison.

Pausing his steps, he checked the door's hinges, which differed from what he knew, and stuck close to the wall, beside it.

Aether hummed within him, coating his right hand, using his Aerialis aspect.

He then hovered his hand over the door and shot it down like a sledgehammer.

Clang!

Sounding like a metallic impact, the door flew away, its hinges broken, and crashed on the ground, skidding on the tiles til it came to a complete stop.

It turned quiet after that, just the constant drip of water on stone was heard.

Emir smirked and threw the headless man inside, awaiting the activation of a trap.

Yet, again, he heard nothing.

'Hm.'

Deeming it a bust, he inwardly channeled his Aetheric Shield and stepped past the door.

He entered an empty room, with only one difference from the hall he walked through earlier. frёewebnoѵēl.com

A man other than him was here.

He stood close to the middle of the room, where the dead body and door lay.

The man was covered from top to bottom in a white cloak, leaving only his head exposed.

Templar's insignia was above where his second heart was, proudly displayed.

His face had average looks, but his hair certainly wasn't.

It was pure white, even whiter than Arthur's hair, likely a result of a dye.

But Emir's focus wasn't on that.

He zeroed in on his posture.

The man was relaxed, even against him, and that either spelled overconfidence or

preparedness.

Emir leaned on the latter.

"...I'm Emir Oliver. I'm sure you know a lot about me, but I don't know anything about you."

He gave the man an invitation to converse before they fought, and after a second of thought, the man accepted.

"I'm called Blanc, a Priest of Templar. And yes, as you will know soon, I learned a lot about

you."

Blanc took out a sword, and it shimmered with a faint, dark glow, almost identical to Emir's Aetheric Blade.

"I see."

With that all-familiar word, Emir pulled his hands back, unsheathing his twin swords, and

took a stance.

"Thanks for waiting. I'll let you have the first move."

Chuckling, Blanc placed his hand inside his cloak and took out what appeared to be a green

incense cauldron.

He raised it up, wiggling it towards Emir.

"Judging by how you already have your shield up, you smelt the poison inside this."

There was a small leaf in the middle, which was green in color, almost highlighted.

"As you must've guessed by now, it's a holy relic."

Before Emir could reply, he continued:

"I know, rare right? Can't believe I have it either."

Blanc tossed that in the air, and it paused, floating for a moment.

His smile dimmed and he chanted:

"Aetheric Shield."

Just as his shield formed, the holy relic dissipated, green gas replacing it and wafting in all

directions, smelling of heavy poison.

Emir, uncaring for his performance, glanced behind him, and sure enough, the entrance on his side of the room was blocked; a new door replaced the broken old.

'Hm, they researched my abilities quite a bit.'

It was obvious what the poison was for, forcing him to use his Aetheric Shield ability.

His opponent had that ability as well, so the situation required him to use Aetheric Blades. Nothing else in his arsenal of abilities would penetrate it, leaving him with one ability use

slot.

Of course, Author's Strings could disrupt Blanc's Aetheric Shield, allowing his own poison to kill him, but that would reveal his ability.

Emir couldn't have that happen, not yet.

Now, he could only wonder what they would force him to do next, but he didn't need to wait,

not even for a moment.

The second the poison reached him, it began to leak inside the shield, corroding it.

He jumped back in alarm, smacking into the door, his eyes widening as he barely escaped

death.

'AETHERIC OVERLOAD!'