Charbel And Calantha

The story begins when Charbel and his companions arrive at the capital, where they have business to attend to.

"We've arrived, the capital, where the saintess resides. We will spend several days here to finish our business," their leader announced.

"Yes, sir," Charbel replied calmly.

The group set to work, sending supplies to various parts of the city. While they were busy with their duties, Charbel noticed someone familiar. A girl with striking purple hair, wearing a saintess candidate uniform, was holding a basket of fruit and entering the temple. Charbel's heart skipped a beat as he recognized her but couldn't recall her name. Determined to meet her, he resolved to visit the temple once his work was done.

"Ah man, the guards are on high alert," Charbel muttered to himself as he observed the temple's entrance.

He spent several hours waiting for the right moment. Finally, when the guards' attention was diverted, he seized the opportunity to slip past the entrance.

"I did it, yeah!" he whispered to himself.

Using his infiltration skills, Charbel sneaked inside the temple grounds without being noticed. He found the girl mopping the floor alone. He wondered why no one was helping her with such arduous work. Hidden behind a bush, he watched her, feeling a pang of empathy.

"Should I approach her? Hmm," he pondered.

Just then, other temple staff approached her.

"Hurry up, there's still a lot of work for you," a senior temple woman commanded.

"Yes, ma'am," the girl replied meekly.

Charbel was taken aback by the harsh treatment she received. It was clear she was being bullied because of her background from the slums. After finishing her work, she trudged wearily to her dormitory. Inside, she looked at her hands, which were covered in wounds from the relentless labor and mistreatment.

Suddenly, there was a knock on her window, startling her. She quickly hid her hands, fearing further scorn. To her surprise, it was Charbel, standing outside with a concerned expression.

"Charbel?" she whispered, opening the window cautiously.

"Hey," Charbel greeted her softly, climbing inside. "I saw you earlier and wanted to check on you. Are you okay?"

Overwhelmed by the unexpected kindness, she burst into tears and hugged him tightly. Charbel held her gently, offering silent comfort as she cried.

"Thank you, Charbel. It means a lot to hear that," she said, pulling back slightly to look at him.

"What's your name?" Charbel asked, realizing he still didn't know.

"Calantha," she replied, a soft smile forming despite her tears. "It was given to me by the archpriest."

"It's a beautiful name," Charbel said warmly. "Listen, Calantha, you don't have to stay here. Come back to my hometown. You can live a better life there."

Calantha shook her head, her expression turning resolute. "I can't, Charbel. Because of me, something terrible happened. I can't fall back now."

Charbel's eyes softened with understanding and determination. "If anything happens to you again, I'll come and take you back, no matter what it takes."

Calantha's eyes filled with gratitude and sadness. "Thank you, Charbel. But I have to stay and fight. This is my path."

They hugged one last time, holding onto the moment of solace and connection.

"Stay safe, Calantha," Charbel whispered.

"You too," she replied, her voice trembling.

With a heavy heart, Charbel climbed back out the window and returned to the other merchants. As he rejoined his companions, his mind remained on Calantha, vowing silently to protect her from afar and support her however he could. Their destinies might have diverged, but the bond they formed that night would remain unbroken.

The Search for Harith

The scene shifts to Hekal and his squad, still diligently searching for Harith. The group trudged through a dense forest, their expressions a mix of determination and weariness.

"We've been searching for weeks," one of the squad members, a tall man named Garret, remarked, wiping sweat from his brow. "Do you think we'll ever find him?"

"We have to," Hekal responded firmly, his eyes scanning the surroundings. "Harith has vital information, and without him, our mission is doomed."

Another squad member, a woman named Liora, added, "We know he was last seen in the vicinity of the nearby town. He went there to gather herbs, so it's our best lead."

The squad continued their journey, the forest gradually giving way to open fields. The town soon came into view, nestled in a valley with smoke rising from chimneys and people bustling about.

"Let's split up and search for clues," Hekal instructed as they approached the town's entrance. "We'll cover more ground that way. Keep your eyes and ears open for any information about Harith."

The squad members nodded and dispersed into the town. Hekal made his way to the local tavern, hoping to gather information from the patrons. The tavern was lively, filled with chatter and laughter. Hekal approached the bartender, a burly man with a thick beard.

"Excuse me," Hekal began, "I'm looking for someone. A man named Harith. He was supposed to come here to get herbs."

The bartender's expression turned thoughtful. "Harith, you say? I think I remember him. Came in about a week ago, asking about some herbs. Haven't seen him since, though."

Hekal's heart sank a little, but he pressed on. "Did he mention where he was headed?"

The bartender shook his head. "Afraid not. But he did join an expedition with Natan and some other folks. You might want to check with Natan."

Hekal thanked the bartender. Just then, the tavern door swung open, and a rugged man with a scarred face entered. They both made eye contact.

"Are you Natan?" Hekal asked, stepping forward.

Natan's eyes narrowed. "Can I help you?"

"I'm looking for Harith," Hekal explained. "I was told he came to you to join your expedition."

Natan nodded slowly. "Yes, he did join us. After several miles, we headed our separate ways. Said he needed herbs for some urgent work."

Hekal studied Natan's face, sensing something off. Just then, Hekal's father, Alexander, a seasoned knight with a commanding presence, entered the tavern. The room fell silent as he approached.

"If you still don't know, I will just ask Hobs then. Where is he?" Alexander demanded, his voice cold and unyielding.

Natan's confidence wavered. He fidgeted, clearly uneasy. "Alexander, i-it's been a while," he stammered with a forced laugh.

"Enough talking. Where is he?" Alexander's eyes bored into Natan.

Realizing he was cornered, Natan gave up. "Fine, fine, you win. You want to know where your son is? Here, take this." Natan reached into his pocket and pulled out a blood-stained bullet, tossing it to Alexander.

"You should have seen his face when I blew out his eye," Natan sneered, a cruel laugh escaping his lips. "And when I choked him to silence his screams, HAHAHA!"

The bandits in the tavern erupted in laughter. Rage burned in Alexander's and Hekal's eyes. They drew their swords and firearms, and the other knights followed suit, their weapons crackling with energy as they channeled their Arts, ready for battle despite being outnumbered.

"Attack!" Alexander roared, charging at Natan with fury.

The tavern erupted into chaos as the knights clashed with the bandits. Steel met steel, and the sound of swords clashing and bodies falling filled the air. Hekal fought valiantly, his every move driven by the desire to avenge Harith. He parried a bandit's attack and countered with a swift strike, taking down his opponent. Drawing his firearm, he fired a burst of energy-infused bullets, taking down two more bandits.

Garret and Liora fought side by side, their synchronized movements displaying their years of training. They channeled their Arts through their firearms, sending bolts of lightning and fire at their enemies, taking down bandit after bandit. But the sheer number of enemies began to overwhelm them. The knights fought bravely, but the bandits' numbers were too great.

Alexander fought his way to Natan, their swords clashing in a fierce duel. "You will pay for what you did to my son!" Alexander growled, his strikes fueled by his rage. His sword glowed with a blue flame, each strike burning through Natan's defenses.

Natan smirked, dodging a lethal blow. "Your son died like a dog, Alexander. And so will you!" He drew his own firearm, firing a shot infused with dark energy that grazed Alexander's shoulder.

The battle raged on, but the knights were slowly being overwhelmed. Despite their skill and determination, they were outnumbered and exhausted. One by one, the knights fell, leaving Alexander and Hekal fighting desperately.

Alexander, wounded but relentless, delivered a powerful strike to Natan, knocking him to the ground. "This is for Harith!" he shouted, raising his sword for the final blow.

Before he could strike, a bandit stabbed Alexander from behind. "Father, no!" Hekal screamed, rushing to his father's side as he collapsed.

With a final surge of strength, Alexander looked up at Hekal. "Finish... the mission," he whispered before his eyes closed for the last time.

Fueled by grief and rage, Hekal fought with renewed ferocity. He took down bandits left and right, his firearm blazing with energy-infused bullets, but the odds were too great. As the remaining knights fell around him, Hekal knew he was fighting a losing battle.

Natan, regaining his composure, stood up and smirked. "Look at you, fighting so desperately. You should have given up when you had the chance."

Hekal's breath came in ragged gasps, his body covered in wounds. Yet, he stood tall, his eyes blazing with determination. "I will never give up. For Harith, for my father, I will fight until my last breath." He channeled the last of his energy into his sword and firearm, both weapons glowing with a radiant light.

With a final, powerful yell, Hekal charged at Natan. Their swords clashed, a fierce duel of skill and will. Hekal landed a few strikes, but Natan's experience and the bandits' interference took their toll.

Hekal, now heavily wounded, staggered but refused to fall. Natan saw his chance and drove his sword deep into Hekal's chest.

Hekal gasped, blood trickling from his mouth. He looked Natan in the eye, his voice a strained whisper. "Harith... will be avenged."

With his last ounce of strength, Hekal fired a final energy-infused bullet into Natan's side, causing him to scream in pain. As the light faded from Hekal's eyes, he collapsed, a fierce warrior to the end.

Natan, clutching his side, looked down at Hekal's lifeless body. "Fool," he muttered, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of fear and respect.

The remaining bandits stood victorious, but at a great cost. The knights had fought bravely, and their sacrifice would not be forgotten. Hekal had died fighting, a hero to the end, his spirit unbroken.