Slave's Plan

The snow continued to fall, covering in soft flakes both the footprints of humans and the Ghosts wandering over the Kyrexo Loop, motives unknown, but did the snow have any at all?

It was nothing but a white veil trying to add some color to this black world, knowing there was no chance of success.

A light stream of wind blew in front of Tron, rippling the ends of his soaked black hair, the Ghost's fur flew off his palm, soon enough disappearing into the distance.

An angry scream came from the depths of Morbia's throat.

"FUCK!!! This is so gross!!!!"

Undeterred, she rushed towards the snow as if it were the greatest treasure in the world. Thick, stinking saliva covered her entire body, all Morbia could think about was getting clean, by any means necessary.

"Shit! Fucking dog! If my powers weren't sealed, I'd tear it apart with one hand!"

Her hands plunged into the snow time after time, clutching the clumps tightly to cover every part of her body, rubbing vigorously.

With a slight hope in her gaze, Morbia sniffed her hands.

Undeterred, her face contorted, it seemed she was about to vomit.

"Damn it! It's not enough!"

As a last resort, Morbia began to roll around in the high snow. The dirt was leaving stains on her clothes, but it didn't bother her, the most important thing was to get rid of the foul stench.

Tron simply watched Morbia, waiting for her to finish. He was lucky that the Ghost passed him by and didn't attack them, but Tron just didn't think about it.

He didn't do anything bad to that Ghost, so there was no reason for them to be enemies. Yeah... That was criminally naive, but it wasn't strange for the Half-Blank. Thanks to Morbia he already experienced a lot of different feelings, more than most Blanks had.

Hoping for the best, Morbia approached Tron with a great frown, holding out her hands to him.

"Quick, tell me, do I still stink?!"

Leaning over, Tron took a few breaths, smelling a nasty scent as if Morbia had not bathed in days, it was a tiny remnant of the Ghost's odor.

"Hmm... strange smell, I'd say even a little pleasant, much better than that bitter drink, I think... it's called coffee...?"

It wasn't a lie. To him, that odor felt like that. Perhaps, it was because he was closer to Ghosts than Humans, for now.

Morbia blinked a few times. She realized that Tron didn't know how to lie yet, it was a difficult art for the Half-Blank, not even all humans had mastered it to a decent level.

"I see..."

Raising her hands, Morbia looked at her dirty clothes, but... it didn't upset her, on the contrary, a sly smirk appeared on her face.

"Why are you smiling? Do you like being dirty?"

Puzzlement came over Tron as he tilted his head.

"Unless it's for a mission. We've almost reached the Blind Giant's Village, so listen carefully to my plan."

Tron raised an eyebrow.

A devious grin formed on her face, her eyes narrowed, and her fingertips touched her twisted face.

...

Through the currents of air, a black shadow with a metal tip, a tool for punishment and bloody efficiency, swept through.

"AAAGH!!!!"

The whip crashed to the ground with a whistling noise, frightening the three men in old tattered clothes. They jerked, the logs in their hands quivered, but they managed to hold on to them or else the whip would crash down on their backs.

A man with a thick beard shouted in his powerful voice. 

"Damn it! Hurry up! The storm is coming! If you don't want to freeze to death, then carry firewood!'

He frowned, thickening his wrinkles while the wind whizzed by his short black hair.

Turning around, he handed the whip to the girl standing next to him. She looked not so formidable at all, possessing her long hair tied into a ponytail.

"Here, hold this. Stina, keep an eye on them while I talk to the leader. Hit the ground to scare them, only beat them on the back if they stop working. We need to keep them scared to work, not drain them of energy."

Remaining fearfully silent, Stina nodded, accepting the whip from the stern man.

He strode forward, under the gaze of Stina who watched his broad back covered in a long black coat with respect and fear. On his chest was a pentagonal black emblem with a red skull. 

She had the same emblem but the skull was gray, which showed the difference in their statuses within the hierarchy of the Scarlet Root. After all, she was a regular person, and this man was a Harbinger, the same as the one Tron met on the bridge.

The man's leather boots left deep tracks in the mud drenched from the endless snow. He moved toward the two-story manor house in the center of the village, one of the few stone buildings.

He passed people carrying logs, many of them not even having shoes and their gazes exhausted. They were ordinary people like Stina, but unlike her, they didn't have emblems on their chests, but iron collars around their necks - just like slaves.

Bam.

Something struck the man, making him turn around slowly, it was a slight jolt to him.

His brown eyes reflected the weak girl who fell into a puddle, right after the pain an animal fear showed on her face.

"I'm sorry... I didn't see you... Please, I didn't mean to..."

The girl pleaded with a trembling gaze.

After a long silence, the man nodded deeply, not a hint of anger on his face.

"The logs are soaked now. Take them to the warehouse and get new ones. Hurry, there's a blizzard coming."

"Y-Yes! I'll do it right away...!" she stammered.

It was better to obey than to be dead.

Reaching the manor, the man opened the heavy wooden door, a low creak greeted him.

A pleasant warmth came in an active flow, contrasting strongly with the intense cold, raging outside.

It was no surprise, as a fireplace was actively burning in the far side of the room, crimson flame illuminating a table with two persons at it.

In front of them stood glasses filled with wine and a half-empty vintage bottle. Their gazes were directed at the chessboard, the outcome of their game nearing completion.

The woman with long blonde hair turned around, a slight smile appearing on her arrogant face.

"Hygon, have you finally tired of the cold? Join us, have a glass of wine watching our game."

With a smirk on his face, the second player said:

"Game? Lorana... I'm afraid he won't make it in time."

A man with thick brown hair had an eye patch over his right eye. He wore a tight black vest over a clean white shirt.

He took the rook, advanced it to the end of the board, leaving no chance for Lorana's king.

"Checkmate."

Lorana snorted irritably, turning her head to the side.

"Pfffft. Gex, I'm sure you could have ended our game five moves ago! You were just messing with me like always!"

"12"

"Hmm?"

All she saw in response was a look filled with arrogance and unwavering superiority.

"I could have defeated you 12 moves ago if I wanted to. I didn't just because I wanted to enjoy the game."

Trailing off, he took the glass in his hands, rocking it from side to side, looking at the frowning Lorana through the prism of the noble drink.

"The winner was known before we made the first move."

Lorana's eye began to twitch nervously, but she didn't say anything, just didn't dare to.

Suddenly, the door opened again, though Hygon had only walked in a moment ago.

A man in a tattered coat ran in, a gray skull emblem on his chest.

"Boss, sorry to bother you, but strangers have come to our village!"

Gex slowly turned to his side.

"Strangers? Why haven't you killed them yet? We must prepare for the storm, we can't waste time."

The man gulped, he didn't want to disappoint Gex, for him it could end badly, fatally.

"The thing is that it seems he's one of us, and he's a Harbinger, on his chest is an emblem with a red skull. Boss, I think he used the Rule of Blood."

"'Rule of Blood..." Gex barely audibly whispered, his eyes narrowed.

"And... one more thing. He came here with some girl, she's all dirty and shabby, looks like it's his slave. What... What do we do?"

With a wave of his hand, Gex stood up and threw on an exquisite red coat.

"Get back to work. I'll handle this one. If he did everything by the book, we'll have a fourth Harbinger, and if not..." his gaze grew darker, "Then Kyrexo Loop will have one less Harbinger."

Stepping away from the fireplace, his silhouette faded into shadow, only his single green eye was visible, causing some to follow him and others to fear him.

...

"Look... Is it him too...?

"Wow... Another one..."

"Damn... Who is that girl? Is she his slave? How cruel he is... bastard."

Chatter quickly spread among both slaves and the Scarlet Root members. They all watched with wonder as a tall male with pale skin and pitch-black hair and eyes approached the manor.

"FUCK! Let me go!!! Don't you dare treat me like this!"

A girl in black tattered clothes, with short crimson hair, covered in mud, tried to escape the grip of the man who held her tightly by the hair and dragged her along the ground, there was no emotion on his face.

No one rushed to help the girl as they saw his emblem, fighting against the Harbinger was tantamount to death.

The door opened as three silhouettes emerged from the manor.

"Well, well, looks like we're in for an interesting conversation." Gex smirked, glaring at Tron.

Silence.

"Yeah... I suppose so..."

Tron replied in a serene voice while a cold wind swept over his shoulders, ruffling the tips of his hair.