My Soul card is a Reaper-Chapter 1022: Dreams of the Past: Night before the tournament
After a while;
Artaigne sat outside the arena, her arms resting on her knees. The disappointment was evident in her eyes.
Rael approached, standing beside her in silence.
"You did well," he finally said. Artaigne chuckled bitterly. "Not well enough. I couldn’t even display my abilities to the fullest. I should have gone flying from the start. Poor planning."
Eon appeared next, arms crossed. "Then get stronger and plan better. That’s all there is to it."
Artaigne wanted to retort, but in the end, she exhaled and then forced out a smile. "Yeah... I will."
As they stood together, the final team list was announced by the Proctor:
"Congratulations to those who made it to the team:
Arjuna
Beowulf
Azrael Garcia
Yudhisthira
Nuada Airgetlam
Qin Shi Huang
Bheema
Eon Garcia
"From this day forward," the Proctor announced, "you are Team Celestials."
The road to the World Tournament had begun for this bunch of prodigies, the oldest being 13 years old and the youngest being 9, all in the 5-star soul realm.
*
A few weeks later.
The Night Before the Tournament;
The living room of Rael’s rented mansion was lively as ever, with a long banquet table stacked with steaming dishes—succulent roasted meats, golden-buttered bread, thick stew brimming with spices, and pitchers of fresh fruit juices.
At the center of it all sat Rael and Eon, eating like starved wolves.
Rael tore into a roasted drumstick, gravy dribbling down his chin, while Eon slurped up an entire bowl of noodles in one go. Servants passing by gave them a mix of amusement and horror, though no one dared say anything. Captain Philip, who was overseeing the finances of these two needs, was bleeding blood in his heart, "fifty-one thousand gold coins in the past mere five weeks, all spent on their food. Remia doesn’t trust hiring chefs or taking chefs from the mansion out of their liability, and even if all the female knights cook the food for hours, it would only serve for one meal for this pair of gluttons. It was like all these restaurants around were working for us. Commander Val is grilling me, not being able to handle finances properly. Ugh, I never thought being a Knight was so difficult. I thought I would have only to fight when necessary and just spend my time in peace, doing work out all the day but no..."
"You two eat like you’re storing food for war," Artaigne remarked, elegantly slicing through a steak across from them.
"Well, the Inter-Academy Tournament starts tomorrow," Eon said between bites. "Gotta be in top condition."
Rael raised a mug of fruit wine. "Exactly! Nothing fuels a fight like a full belly!"
Artaigne sighed, rubbing her temples. "Honestly, you two... whatever. Just don’t complain about stomach aches later."
"No, we don’t." Rael and Eon voiced out collectively.
Laughter filled the hall, and for a moment, everything felt normal.
But the night was far from over.
The moon stood high in the sky, its silver light spilling through the massive windows of the Garcia estate. The mansion was silent, save for the distant hoots of an owl in the forest beyond.
Inside their residence, Rael and Eon lay sprawled on their beds, their bodies sinking into the plush mattresses, their breathing steady.
Then—
A shadow moved.
Four figures materialized within the room, their footsteps eerily silent. Their bodies were wrapped in dull black cloaks, their faces hidden behind smooth white masks. No presence, no killing intent—just pure, chilling silence.
Until—
"Kill them."
SWOOSH!
Blades flashed, heading straight for Rael and Eon’s throats.
CLANG!
A shockwave burst through the room.
The assassins’ daggers met something unexpected—a barrier of pure, shimmering energy.
Eon appeared near the doorway, her Hourglass floating beside her, time slowing to a crawl.
Rael, still half-lying on his bed, narrowed his eyes, his Death Scythe already in his grip.
"Seriously? We had a tournament in the morning?" he sighed, standing up and stretching. "Fine, we might as well get some warm-up."
"Bro, let’s take the easy or hard route," Eon said, summoning the soul card with the image of a mace. "All of these seemed to be in rank-6."
"Of course, what am I thinking? Let’s go with the easy route. Don’t want a lengthy battle," Rael replied, shrugging his shoulders and proceeding by jumping down from the bed.
One of the assassins clicked his tongue. "Tch. Kill them before they can—"
Too late.
BOOM!
Rael and Eon moved without further conversation.
Their bodies flickered—two shadows becoming one as they charged forward together.
The moment their palms struck, the fusion began.
Their auras intertwined, swirling together in a golden-and-black maelstrom before transforming into a Reaper. Time distorted. Shadows lengthened. The assassins froze mid-movement, their bodies lagging behind reality.
The world slowed—except for Rael and Eon’s fusion form—Azraleon. An hourglass is floating around them—a divine mace in the left hand and a divine death scythe in the right.
Azraleon weaved through the still air, moving like wraiths, their attacks landing before the assassins even realized what was happening.
SLASH!
The Death scythe carved through an assassin’s chest, cleaving his skin apart.
CRACK!
And the mace shattered another’s skull.
By the time time resumed, two out of four assassins were already heavily injured and knocked out.
"Let’s leave." The remaining rushed out of the room.
A couple of seconds later, the fusion ended, and the siblings separated into their original forms. Eon stood there, her mace dripping with blood. Rael exhaled, flicking the dark ichor off his scythe.
Silence.
Then, he looked at her. She didn’t meet his gaze, but instead, her gaze was on one of the fallen assassins.
"What?" Rael asked.
Eon slowly raised her index finger and pointed at the assassin who was bleeding from the head. "I think that was dead, Bro."
"Hmm?" Rael turned his attention to the unconscious. He slowly walked to the corpse and placed his hand on the chest. There was no heartbeat. "I guess you used more force. He is dead indeed." He said, nodding in acknowledgment.
Both of them had just killed a person for the first time at the age of 9.
And they felt... nothing. Neither Rael nor Eon. It was as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
Eon scoffed, smirking. "I thought this would be like, you know, affecting our minds or something." She dismissed the mace, crossing her arms to her chest tightly.
Rael shrugged. "Yeah. Turns out it’s just another fight." He seemed disappointed, too.
"So, what should we do with..." Eon was about to speak about the unconscious assassin slashed by Rael, who is also on the same way to death, although due to blood loss, a sudden explosion outside diverted their attention.
They turned toward the window. Under the dim light emitted by fire lamps in the yard, several figures were seen engaged in the fights. A big group was then seen surrounding those fights, too.
"Uhh... it looks like enemies are more in number than we thought." She said, narrowing her eyes and walking toward the window to get a better look.
Rael activated his ocular abilities to have night vision. He replied.
"Six masked outfits, the same as these guys, were locked in battle with our Garcia House Knights and Royal Knight Remia. Philip and Kaelith weren’t seen down there, though."
Fortunately, the battle outside was short-lived.
Outnumbered and outmatched, the assassins were swiftly subdued, and forced to their knees before Rael and Eon in a matter of minutes.
Their leader, a thin man with a scar running down his throat, grinned despite his failure and the shattered soul orb. "You children have no idea what you’ve gotten yourselves into." His voice was hoarse but laced with amusement. It was like he no longer cared about death. And Rael could see the thick aura of death enveloping him.
Rael then rested his scythe on his shoulder. "Let me guess, the Jotunns employed you all since their blue skin gives away their identity?"
The assassin chuckled, his lips curling. "Clever lad, ain’t you?"
Remia’s brows furrowed in recognition. "You are working for the Jotunnheimer?"
The 7-star Arcana Master turned his attention to the knight clad in white armor. "The one who tried to assassinate the princess was also our comrade, by the way."
"So, it has nothing to do with the royal family?" Remia’s frown deepened by the revelation.
The assassin chuckled. "We just let you think that way."
"Then, why are you saying it now?" Rael asked. Eon added, "Yeah, you could have blamed it on the royal family again."
The assassin shrugged. "Well, my life is over anyway, and Jotunns would probably scare you all more because everyone knows their craftiness. To accomplish their goal, they would be willing to go to any lengths."
Eon crossed her arms. "And let me guess—this isn’t the last attack?"
"Far from it," the assassin smirked. "Stronger enemies will come. More skilled. More crafty. And More ruthless, little girl."
Then—
His expression twisted into something dark.
"Well, since you know everything you need, let me say goodbye."
Before anyone could react, he pressed his hand to his chest. The imprinted sealing technique on his body was activated.
BOOM!
His body exploded from the inside out, his organs incinerated in an instant. As if his death triggered a chain of reaction, the other captured assassins’ bodies erupted in bursts of crimson light. Their souls were obliterated before they could be captured.
The living room fell into eerie silence.
The only thing left behind was the lingering scent of burnt flesh and blood.
Remia’s eyes widened at the shocking scene, her gaze lingering on the dead bodies. "This seal? It’s the Deathbond Pact."
