chapter42
The first light of Dumase's burning rivers cut across the horizon.
Molten gold.
Blood-red.
---
Lava carved through fractured earth, hissing with every movement, casting long, trembling shadows across jagged cliffs.
---
The first team disembarked.
Boots touched unstable ground—
cracked stone glowing from within.
Each step was careful.
Measured.
One mistake—
and it was over.
---
Guinevere led.
Her gaze swept everything—every fissure, every ripple of heat, every unnatural shift in the terrain.
Behind her, Chris moved with tension coiled in every step.
---
Chris: "Commander… why me?"
A pause.
Chris: "Why did you choose me?"
---
Guinevere didn't slow.
Her voice was calm. Even.
---
Guinevere: "Because I find you… strong."
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Chris blinked.
His heartbeat stuttered.
---
Chris: "You… mean that?"
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She glanced at him.
Sharp.
Unreadable.
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Guinevere: "Do you think I lie?"
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Something settled in his chest.
Pride.
Energy.
A quiet fire.
---
Behind them—
Marco landed smoothly, rolling across cooled lava, rising in one fluid motion.
Controlled.
Efficient.
---
Captain Bochy followed, boots clanging against stone, rifle resting easily in one hand. His eyes scanned constantly, reading the chaos like a map.
His crew spread out behind him.
---
Then—
The Princess stepped forward.
---
Her boots pressed into glowing cracks.
Her gaze moved across everything—
lava rivers—
jagged cliffs—
shifting ground.
---
Every step—
deliberate.
Precise.
---
From the ship—
a voice carried.
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John: "Careful."
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She paused.
Just for a moment.
---
Their eyes met.
---
Distance.
Fire.
Silence.
---
And still—
it felt close.
---
Too close.
---
Her cheeks warmed slightly.
She gave a small nod—
then turned away.
Moving forward.
Leaving him behind.
---
From a higher ridge—
Guinevere watched.
---
Later—
she approached.
Quiet.
Measured.
---
Guinevere: "I saw you."
A beat.
Guinevere: "Today… and that night."
---
The Princess stiffened.
---
Princess: "What are you talking about?"
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Guinevere's gaze didn't waver.
---
Guinevere: "Don't pretend."
A pause.
Guinevere: "We all saw it."
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A flicker of panic crossed the Princess's face.
---
Princess: "…We?"
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Guinevere: "Yes."
A step closer.
Guinevere: "And if you're so sure about whatever this is…"
A tilt of her head.
Guinevere: "Why are you avoiding him?"
---
Princess: "I'm not—"
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Guinevere: "You are."
Flat.
Certain.
---
Guinevere: "All day."
A pause.
Guinevere: "Even when your eyes meet—you look away."
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The Princess blinked.
Mortified.
---
Princess: "…Was it that obvious?"
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Guinevere: "Very."
---
Before she could respond—
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The ground shook.
---
A violent tremor split the earth beneath them.
A fissure burst open—
lava and sparks erupting into the air.
---
Weapons flashed free.
Eyes sharpened.
---
From the cracks—
they came.
---
Small.
Spider-like.
Glowing red.
---
No bigger than a shoe—
but fast.
Aggressive.
---
Their claws scraped against stone.
Their bodies radiated heat.
---
Captain Bochy: "Ahh! Tiny and vicious—my kind of welcome!"
---
Guinevere's squad reacted instantly.
Perfect formation.
Precise strikes.
---
Marco moved like a machine—
each motion efficient—
each kill exact.
---
The Princess barely needed to engage.
A step.
A turn.
A slight shift—
and the creatures missed her entirely.
---
Chris (ducking): "Watch the sparks!"
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Bochy fired.
Sharp bursts.
Clean shots.
Each one found its target.
Creatures burst—
hissing—
melting back into lava.
---
Silence returned.
Brief.
---
The Princess lowered her blade slightly.
---
Something lingered.
---
Familiar.
---
Her gaze shifted to Marco.
Then Guinevere.
---
No words.
---
They understood.
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The assassins.
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They had returned.
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The team moved forward again.
Deeper.
---
Heat rose in waves.
Lava twisted through the terrain.
Shadows stretched unnaturally.
---
Then—
They moved.
---
Not creatures.
Not beasts.
---
Something else.
---
Figures emerged—
from cracks—
from stone—
from shadows.
---
Bochy fired immediately.
The muzzle flash lit them up—
Dozens.
---
Captain Bochy (low): "…What the hell…?"
---
The squad tightened.
Formation closed.
The Princess at the center.
---
Then—
they struck.
---
Fast.
Precise.
Silent.
---
From their hands—
green mist burst outward.
---
Poison.
---
Guinevere moved first—
mask secured instantly.
Marco followed.
Then the others.
---
The mist swirled—
harmless.
---
Chris (coughing): "Cheap tricks…"
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Steel met steel.
Blades flashed.
---
The Princess moved—
controlled.
Focused.
Her sword cut clean arcs through the chaos.
---
Guinevere's squad functioned as one—
blocking—
countering—
pressuring.
---
Still—
the assassins advanced.
---
Relentless.
---
One slipped through—
straight for the Princess.
---
Too close—
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She pivoted—
blade flashing—
---
The assassin was sent flying—
straight into molten ground.
---
Marco hurled an explosive—
Bochy fired again—
---
Still—
they came.
---
Reforming.
Adapting.
---
Princess (thinking): Faster… stronger…
A breath.
But not enough.
---
Then—
everything slowed.
---
One figure stepped forward.
---
The others stopped.
Moved aside.
---
As if making way.
---
He walked slowly.
Deliberately.
---
Calm.
---
The embers reflected in his hood.
---
The Princess froze.
---
Recognition hit instantly.
---
Rage.
---
Princess: "…You."
---
Her grip tightened.
---
Assassin: "Hello… Blood of Peace."
A faint tilt of his head.
Assassin: "It's been a while."
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Her voice trembled—
not with fear—
but fury.
---
Princess (thinking): Not again…
Not this time.
---
Princess: "You won't touch it again."
---
The assassin's lips curved slightly.
---
Assassin: "I see."
A pause.
Assassin: "You've grown."
---
He raised his blade—
pointing it directly at her.
---
The world narrowed.
---
Heat.
Smoke.
Noise—
all faded.
---
Only him.
Only her.
---
Assassin: "Show me."
A breath.
Assassin: "How much."
---
The Princess's stance lowered.
Every muscle ready.
Every breath controlled.
---
The past—
and present—
collided.
---
And in the heart of Dumase—
the real battle began.
…CHAPTER 42ENDS...