BIOLOGICAL SUPERCOMPUTER SYSTEM

785 Lyria (1)

Erik moved through the busy streets of Caelora city, wearing the armor of the Blackguards. His presence inspired both respect and fear among the city's residents.

The infamous reputation of the Blackguards as ruthless upholders of law was clear in the wide berth and apprehensive glances he received from passersby.

Despite the reactions, Erik's mind was not occupied with his current disguise or the wary eyes that followed his every step.

His thoughts were fixed on his destination—the mercenary guild hall—and the person he intended to confront, Lyria.

He had to make the woman pay for what she did. Erik and Lyria collaborated a lot during the past year, not only to complete quests for the Blackguards, but even for matters of different natures that required his particular set of skills.

It wasn't like he expected her not to do something like this. After all, the woman showed herself to be very ruthless on some occasions.

Yet the revelation that she had colluded with the Blackguards and exposed his true identity as Erik Romano, the sole Awakener of Frant, irked him to no end.

The city of Caelora was in chaos at that moment. The Flying Thaid was still roaming around, in the citizen's opinion, and the Blackguards were searching people.

No one understood what was happening or why the Blackguards were searching people despite a dangerous monster entered the city.

However, there was something they knew for certain. They were in danger.

This meant that, around Erik, everyone were rushing toward home or safe places, and when they saw Erik, in his Quakestrike disguise, they hurried their steps to avoid being seen.

<The Blackguards are a menace to the citizens as much as the flying Thaid, uh? >

Erik's identity as Quakestrike afforded him control and safety, yet it was a role that he played with an increasing sense of disquiet.

It wouldn't take much for the other Blackguards to find out Quakestrike died, and that he was an impostor.

As he navigated the streets and winding alleys, the guild hall loomed closer.

Memories of Lyria flooded his mind. The trust they had built, albeit purely work related, now seemed like a distant dream now, shattered by the reality of her betrayal.

Erik pondered the reasons that could have driven Lyria to such actions. Was it fear, ambition, or something more that aligned her with the Blackguards?

He learned this organization wasn't as good as it tried to show, and Lyria likely knew this.

How come she was more willing to side with them, and not with him, knowing he was likely the only one with enough power to confront them?

Upon reaching the guildhall, his appearance did not go unnoticed, as mercenaries and guild members alike cast curious glances towards the armored figure.

However, Erik remained focused and strode confidently inside.

As he entered the guildhall, the clamor of the outside world faded into a hushed silence. Eyes followed him as he moved through the hall, his armor clanking with each step.

The people were looking at him as if an executioner had just arrived, and were scared that their words could attract his ire. They feared finding an untimely death.

The guild, though, was a den of warriors, a place where tales of bravery and treachery were as common as the weapons that adorned its walls.

That spoke volumes about the power this organization held, and how strong their members were.

Erik strode towards the guild hall's counter, his armor echoing with each step.

The very air around him seemed to thicken with intimidation, his presence an embodiment of the feared reputation that the Blackguards carried.

As he neared, the clerk behind the counter, a young man with a nervous disposition, caught sight of the approaching figure. His eyes widened in a mix of respect and palpable fear.

As Erik closed the distance, the clerk's initial unease transformed into outright panic. A sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead, betraying his anxiety.

His hands, trembling, fumbled with the papers strewn across the counter.

He tried to compose himself, but the effort was strained.

His breathing became shallow and rapid, a clear sign of his distress at the presence of a Blackguard in such proximity.

"I need to talk to Lyria Bannon." Erik's firm voice cut through the tense air.

The clerk, startled by the directness, stuttered a response. "He- Hello, sir! Let me quickly c-check on the computer if Miss Bannon is here!"

His voice cracked slightly, the words tumbling out in a rush. His fingers, slick with sweat, slipped as he tried to operate the computer, his movements hurried and erratic.

"Make haste, I don't have time to lose."

"Y-yes, sir." The clerk tapped on the holographic keys, his eyes darting between the screen and the imposing figure in front of him.

He had never seen a Blackguard up close, let alone talked to one of them.

Every tap on the keyboard seemed to echo in his ears, amplifying his nervousness.

The clerk's usual routine task, which he performed countless times a day, now seemed like an insurmountable challenge.

His mind raced, thoughts jumbled by the overwhelming presence of the Blackguard.

He swallowed hard, trying to quell the dryness in his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing.

Erik observed the clerk's obvious discomfort, an unavoidable consequence of his current disguise.

The dread the Blackguards instilled in the common folk was a tool he had to use, albeit reluctantly, in his quest for truth.

The clerk's demeanor shifted as he confirmed Lyria's presence. "It looks like she is here!"

His statement was louder than it should have been. The words were laced with a peculiar energy.

It was almost as though he found relief in delivering good news to the figure before him.

The very thought of having to inform a Blackguard of a wasted journey, or an error, seemed to terrify him.

This fear was reflected in his physical state; his forehead now glistened with sweat that had doubled in quantity, droplets forming and sliding down the sides of his face.

"Where?"

"Room 412, fourth floor, sir. Should I tell her you are here, s-sir?"

The clerk's voice quivered, each word tinged with anxiety. His fingers were intertwined, knuckles whitening as he sought some form of self-comfort amid his trepidation.

"No." Erik said. He had to prevent Lyria from becoming suspicious of a sudden visit by a blackguard, Quakestrike no less, and possibly fleeing.

He was sure the clerk would not tell Lyria of his presence.

After all, there was going to be only an outcome if he defied his orders. The clerk knew that well.

<Jeez. They act like justice's paladins, but look at people's reaction! This is not respect, this is fear! >

With a nod of acknowledgement, Erik turned and made his way toward the back of the guildhall.

As he passed through the door leading to the private quarters, he could feel the eyes of those around him following his every move, their gazes a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

A hushed silence enveloped the space. The usual hum of conversation and activity that animated the guild halls seemed to pause, silenced by his imposing presence and commanding aura.

Everyone in that room knew that if a blackguard got offended, he or she would make hell break loose.

They were upholder of justice, but it was clear their power and reputation made them arrogant.

The only sounds were the soft clinks of his armor and his measured footsteps, which resonated in the silent room.

The onlookers had their gazes fixed on him, and kept mum, silent spectators, to this unusual spectacle. Their curiosity and apprehension grew stronger, but was unvoiced.

Erik disappeared from their sight after the doors closed. Some of the people looked at each other. They wondered what the guy was doing here.

"Maybe he came here to arrest someone."

"Who did he ask about?" someone asked.

"A certain Lyria Bannon. You know who she is?"

"She is someone from Testrovsc's Rest if I'm not wrong."

"Why is she here, then? Hasn't she duties in her city?"

"You know nothing about what is happening in the city?"

"About the flying Thaid?"

"No, not that. Apparently, a very dangerous man came here. Erik Kay. He is the guild leader of a growing guild in Testrovsc's Rest. The guild responsible for making the new brain stimulating serum."

"Really? Such a big shot is here? But wasn't he considered the Fierce Lioness successor? Like, didn't people want him to work for them desperately?"

"Yes, but apparently he did something. I know little about it, but the Blackguards are searching for him all over the city."

"Shouldn't they take care of the flying thaid?"

"Shhhhh… Are you crazy?"

Erik, at that point, found the elevator and stepped inside, the doors closing with a soft hiss behind him.

His finger pressed against the button for the fourth floor, the light illuminating with his touch.

As the elevator began its ascent, the hum of its machinery was the only sound accompanying him in the confined space.

The numbers above the door changed, each ding marking his progress towards the imminent confrontation.

Thoughts and strategies were swirling around in Erik's mind, creating a whirlwind.

Even though he appeared confident on the outside, he was secretly getting ready for every outcome of the upcoming encounter.

May privilege price will lower.