The Lucius Bloodline

Perplexingly, my head felt like a sore and overused muscle.

Thinking and visualizing ideals only caused it to ache and pain more and more. Until all I was left with was a seething numbness.

I scratched my paled white hair that was beginning to invade my furrowing eyebrows and looked at the mob outside in curiosity.

Around 200 Crolo-Ivarians were going at each other's necks.

Since they were mindless, they merely walked into each whilst flapping their arms around. Resulting in an occasional lethal blow.

I couldn't help but notice that the Crolo-Ivarians controlled by Frila were somewhat more competent than the regular wandering Crolo-Ivarians.

And not just in strategy, but physical ability too.

My mind numbed out as I shook my eyes off this scene.

Returning to the obsolete, tiny black flame that flickered in the miniature snow dome.

Behind it sat Frila.

A blank look on her face showed that she was controlling her undead.

I still didn't understand why she had hidden such a useful and effective ability.

This wasn't the Kingdom of Holy Light. She wouldn't be exorcised or executed publicly or even shamed. I struggled to see a single fault in proclaiming her Necromancy abilities the second we started exploring the Dungeon.

But alas, she was a Necromancer.

And although I didn't know much about Necromancers, I felt she was a cut above the rest.

The somber deep azure blue that rested and twisted in her eyes just screamed the idea of brilliance.

Nevertheless, I was now relying on her for safety.

Vigar had woken up but the Phantom was still immensely tired from the descent down.

If the Behemoth arrived at our front door, Vigar would inevitably fail to send us away as the Phantom had before.

In other words, we had used our get-out-of-trouble-free card already. My mouth was clamped shut by the sight of Frila's tedious concentration but my mind had gotten the better of me.

I was now writhing for answers.

It took a few seconds for my mind to register Frila's consciousness returning.

Her eyes seemed dreary and tired yet they possessed the same viciousness that had always been lurking.

My voice seemed quite out of place in this mystery-propelled atmosphere as it came out dusty and shambled.

"Who... are you?"

A normal girl was no fitting answer.

I watched in blankness as she processed my question and pondered an answer.

Her voice was calm as if she had been expecting such a question for a while.

"Frila Lucius. The last living descendant of El Lucius."

She spoke as if it was common knowledge.

I, who was unaware of anyone by the name of Lucius was left in the ditches.

Vigar however, seemed to know far more than a Phantom should have known.

Coming in like an unexpected breeze, Vigar's words took Frila's expressions by storm.

"El Lucius. The Hand of Zod?"

Although Vigar seemed casual and relaxed, Frila's eyes were that of horror.

The black flame grew to an unperturbed height and caused me to shuffle backward from instinct.

Vigar seemed to have expected such a reaction and merely looked at Frila through its white mass.

Frila nodded slowly and carefully whilst her mouth quivered.

"Yes. That was the title he prioritized before anything else, I believe."

She seemed much more conserved now.

"Then is he not the same gentleman that was the bane of all Necromancers? The Early-End of the Necromancers Guild?"

Vigar seemed quite enthusiastic on this topic. A bit of joy mixing into it's white form upon mentioning the end of the so-called Necromancers Guild.

Frila lowered her head and let out a shifting whisper.

"Indeed."

Vigar continued questioning Frila, taking control of the conversation swiftly.

"Is he still here? His corpse? I know a few fellows who would pay petty prices to inspect such a master compound of noble genetics."

Frila shook her head almost instantly.

She rose her right hand eerily, illuminated by the black flame and her voice seemed inscribed now.

"He was cremated by those very flames hundreds of years ago."

Vigar brooded for a few seconds before shaking any attachment off.

Realizing that it had been somewhat insensitive, Vigar let off a few sly and appreciating words to hopefully leave the young girl in better spirits.

"Oh, but what a man he was. With an army that never shrunk, faltered, or diminished. A mana capacity that could've fueled Atlanta for years and a brain that could've challenged Merlin. Your Ancestor was the bane of Necromancers for decades. No other man other than Zod could send him even a disgruntling look. In fact, had Zod given your Ancestor a better hand, then maybe they wouldn't have fallen centuries back. Maybe El would have been able to do far more than corrode every undead on the Milres Continent."

Understanding only half of what Vigar had proclaimed, I felt the need to question more. But noticing the intriguing atmosphere that had surfaced I decided to keep my mouth shut. Only accepting that Frila had an Ancestor from Vigar's time that had been quite the figure.

Whilst Frila thought on what Vigar said and as Vigar went back to his comfort, I let out a question. That was pretty much the limit of what I could do as of now.

"So. Why are you here?"

That's what I really wanted to know.

Why was an esteemed Necromancer hiding their abilities in the home of Necromancing?

It seemed painfully ironic.

Frila remained reserved as her mood drooped even further.

I could feel resentment and shallow-ness through her voice alone.

"Because I'm running. Rather, I'm saving up Judes so that I can run. So that I can run to a place where I cannot be found, harmed, or halted."

I nodded briefly.

I see.

So would her strange Necromancy reveal her identity?

Was she a criminal?

Questions kept pushing each other out of the spotlight in my mind.

I kept inciting more and more answers.

"Who are you running from? Where are you running to?"

My voice seemed curiously eager.

Her tongue curled as her eyes squinted.

She seemed to have noticed my intense questioning.

"People. I'm running from people. And I'm running to a place where said people cannot find me. You sure ask a lot of questions for the most suspicious person that I've met yet."

I shrugged my shoulders keeping a blessed expression on my face.

"Ask away if you need to."

I didn't really have anything to hide. Therefore I gave her permission to ask away.

She nodded, letting some stress out in her next irritated words.

"Why are you here? What are you even doing in dungeons? Your clothes are that of a Noble yet you seem to be in the poorest parts of the Crow Kingdom. I thought initially that you were rebelling or something of the sort, but after realizing your Phant- Half-Phantom nature, your goals seem blurry and your intent unknown. So tell me. The answer,to the questions I bartered."

I kept calm and concise, ignoring her rough attitude. She was quite stressed from controlling so many undead at once, I presumed.

"I'm just a half-phantom who was converted no less than a month ago. My only goal here is to surpass the goal of 400,000 Judes so that I can save someone. That's why I forced us into this situation. I dress like a noble since I was previously a bodyguard for a certain Noble. But that time is now behind me."

I presented my rumbled state with one hand.

Frila took in my response readily, nodding her head and furrowing her brows at points.

She then let out an unexpected and brief chortle.

"I'm running. From the Golden-Inquisitors of the Sun Kingdom."

"Oh."

My single 'oh' said it all.

I didn't know who they were.

What should I have said.

Rough?

Tough luck?

Or should I have delved in silence.

I did not know.

All I did know was that Frila was opening her frail state up.

"The Golden-Inquisitors are a group of Knights, the only group of Knights present in the Sun Kingdom. Their presence both weakens and strengthens the flags they stand before. They only focus on tedious things and do not wage or fight battles. My bloodline is considered a tedious-thing. That is why the Golden-Inquisitors have been hunting those of the Lucius Bloodlines for decades, maybe even Centuries."

"No border, man, or magic spell will stop their mission. And that is why I must go to a place where they cannot charge."

I met eyes with her for a small moment.

"Sounds stressful."

I left a side-note before looking out to our left.

Although I had nearly died, my attitude and emotions had settled and became plain and flat again.

Just wasting away time with Frila and Vigar.

I had time now.

I could think, I could sleep, I could eat and I could do many things.

For example, tie loose ends.

Over a decade, I had met a surprisngly small number of people.

Far less than one of my age and travels should have.

The most problematic person that I faced was not Red Dragon but most probably Vorgio.

The reasonless maniac who hid behind a pristine set of pearly whites.

I had never understood his cause.

His reasons.

Or his actions.

But that was just it.

Maybe there was some deeper meaning.

Something that was waiting for me, in his spiral of madness.

If only I looked further down the rabbit-hole.

Oh. Well. It doesn't really matter now.

Feeling quite intoxicated by the long-hurdles of information that I had been processing I excused myself and headed outside.

Acknowledging that the battling Crolo-Ivarians had piled upon the floor resulting in something of a constant draw as more rose and more fell I looked to the right.

A human.

Taller than me, around the height of a healthy adult.

Though they didn't look specifically healthy.

They wore a brown-leather suit mixed with a white polo shirt. Quite merchant-like attire.

The colours did not matter however, due to the dangerous amount of blood seeping from their figure.

Alarmed I took a closer look.

They limped towards me with an arm pulling on their left sleeve.

They had short-hazel hair and golden eyes.

Concerningly squinted Golden-eyes.

They seemed to be on their last legs.

I noticed their hairy-arms and odd features unbefitting of someone in an -S- Rank dungeon.

Cautiously jogging towards them I pulled out a hand, seemingly entirely unconscious they ignored it blatantly.

Stumbling forward with all their hope.

A faint buzzing sound emerged from behind them.

Like that of static-electricity.

I couldn't see any source but merely assumed that I was tired.

Carefully wavering an arm around their shoulder, I made sure they made it to the snow-dome. Or at least just outside.

Frila seemed instantly wary of the 'trespasser.'

They had some severe and nasty red strikes carved into their being and their face was so bloodied that their eyes were all I could make out.

Not even their teeth had been spared, being freakishly mutated crimson red.

I couldn't help but think this man reminded me of something.

Tutting at my ignorance I got some snow and attempted to hole up the man's injuries.

I didn't really know what to do.

Sullenly, I tried my best but it was truly a struggle.

The pure snow that I clogged his bloodstreams with soon darkened and became a grainy red substance.

No matter what I did, I found that his state did not improve.

Was he just going to die in my hands then?

I was genuinely lost at what to do.

Frila seemed more suspicious despite the urgent need for help.

I searched my mind for answers but found nothing.

Only my hands moving to and fro whilst piling up snow.

I was still ever so confused.

It was only when Frila's mouth began to open that I finally joyed. Was an answer prepared?

She spoke with dedicated urgency and a strange concentration of fear.

"Careful he might be a..."

My head which was turned around fully so that I could see Frila was ignorant and naive of the end behind me.

For a brief moment.

A jaw-breaking roar culled my emotions swiftly and brutally.

Thunder shot and pierced every structure nearby, narrowly missing me, Frila, and the snow dome by tiny margins.

A mammoth-like being was on its hind legs, throwing itself upwards and preparing to stomp me out in one move.

I turned just in time to see it's thunder wrought eyes tearing the air around them.

All I could do was attempt to funnel a world-energy source but even that was taking too long.

Soon, the only thing I could see was a half-covered world.

Half my sight was obscured by a swiftly downing grizzly and thick hedged leg. That of a beast's.

The Behemoth had shifted.

The Behemoth had woken.

The Behemoth had been aggravated.

And raging thunder now threatened to shred me to pieces.