Re: Tales of the Rune-Tech Sage-Chapter 593: Dark Choice I
CH593 Dark Choice I
***
A black-haired, middle-aged man rode atop an emaciated horse, his head hanging low.
If not for his faint, ragged breaths, one might have mistaken him for a corpse slumped in the saddle.
Suddenly, a cloud of dust swept past, and the man instinctively drew in a breath.
’Cough—!’
His head snapped up as he choked, coughing violently as the dust filled his lungs. The bitter taste of ash coated his tongue.
His eyes opened, revealing deep crimson pupils.
They gleamed like polished gemstones, yet beneath that beauty lay an unmistakable melancholy.
The man lifted his gaze to the sky... and the land beyond.
What greeted him was a world in ruin.
The sky was the colour of rusted iron. The wind carried the stench of decay. And the land itself... was utterly lifeless.
There was no sign of flora nor traces of fauna.
Not even the faintest movement of insects.
There was nothing.
No sound of life at all— save for the laboured breaths of the man and his ragged party.
Just silence.
Around him, mounted on equally starved and skeletal horses, rode five other soldiers.
Like the black-haired man, their armour was cracked and worn. Their cloaks hung stiff with dried blood, and their faces were gaunt— the faces of men who had not known proper rest in weeks.
Noticing movement from the man at their head, one of them called out cautiously,
"Captain...?"
The man’s voice, when he tried to respond, was dry and hoarse.
The black-haired man —their captain— turned his head, looking at each of them in turn.
There was confusion in his eyes... but also recognition.
The other soldiers released a collective breath of relief.
"You had us worried, Captain. We thought the corruption might have taken you as well," one of them said.
At that moment, memories surged through the Captain’s mind.
Once... this world had been lush and thriving— rich with life in both flora and fauna.
But then, disaster had struck.
No one knew its true origin.
All they knew was that something —something that could only be described as a plague— had swept across the world, erasing all life in its path.
Not just beasts.
Not just plants.
Everything!
Even the smallest microorganisms had not been spared.
The only sanctuary that remained was the Empire.
There, the Grand Mages had managed to erect a vast protective barrier— a shield that enveloped the entire Empire, halting the plague at its borders.
But it was only a temporary measure.
Nothing more than a desperate attempt to buy time.
The Grand Mages had issued a grim warning, that the barrier would not hold forever.
To find a true solution, they required a prime sample from the very source of the plague.
Only then could they hope to understand it... and create a cure.
For this purpose, a grand expeditionary army was assembled, comprising the Empire’s finest soldiers, equipped with the best gear and mounts the Empire could provide.
Thousands departed from the Empire’s borders, marching towards the source of the plague as deduced by the Grand Mages.
The journey to Ground Zero was anything but peaceful.
As the world’s biosphere eroded, it brought with it catastrophic environmental changes, transforming once-beautiful, breathtaking landscapes into forbidden fields of death.
Many lost their lives as the environment shifted suddenly and violently, turning entire regions into death zones before anyone could react.
But beyond the hostile environment, there was another major cause of casualties within the expedition...
Deranged beasts.
It turned out that the plague did not kill all life equally.
Some creatures descended into madness before death claimed them.
Many powerful beasts lost their sanity in the face of their impending demise and sought to drag others down with them.
Since these beasts stood in their path to Ground Zero, the expeditionary force had no choice but to confront them— resulting in losses that rivalled, if not exceeded, those caused by the environment itself.
Eventually, the expedition succeeded in reaching Ground Zero and obtaining the Origin Sample.
But the cost was devastating.
The army of thousands had been reduced to... six.
A mere six survivors now bore the burden of crossing the ruined land to return the Origin Sample to the Empire, so that the Grand Mages could decipher a solution to the plague.
Fortunately, most active threats along their return path had already perished, and the land had settled into a grim, lifeless stillness.
All that remained was the journey back.
Yet even that was far from simple.
The Captain’s hand instinctively moved to the satchel hanging at his side.
Inside it rested a sealed crystal container.
And within that container was a swirling black mass...
The Origin Sample.
The very object for which thousands of the Empire’s finest soldiers had given their lives.
The same object that this final group of six now had to deliver— at any cost.
For the survival of the Empire... And whatever remained of their world.
The group travelled for hours in silence.
They were too exhausted, too starved, to waste what little energy they had on conversation.
The landscape remained unchanged throughout their journey.
Endless dead earth, lifeless rivers and dunes of ash and dust where forests had once stood.
The group hungered, but there was nothing remotely resembling food to be found.
Just as the atmosphere grew unbearably heavy, one of the soldiers, Bren, spoke.
"You smell that?"
"Smell what?" another soldier replied weakly.
"Nothing," Brenden said.
For no apparent reason, the entire group chuckled.
There was nothing funny about what had been said, but each of them understood— they needed the laughter.
Even if it was hollow... Even if it was forced...
Beneath those weak chuckles, however, they all recognised the truth.
They had a problem.
Dead land and dead waters meant no life.
And no life meant no food.
The plague had been so thorough that not even water could be found— clean or otherwise.
The youngest among them, Eli, finally asked,
"How far to the Empire...?"
The Captain replied instinctively,
"At least... eight days."
Silence fell upon the squad once more.
A heavier silence than before.
With no food or water, even with their cultivation, they had at most two days of strength left.
Nightfall came faster than expected.
The squad made camp around the remnants of a dead fire pit.
There was nothing to burn.
Nothing to cook.
So they sat in a circle...
Like ghosts.
One of them —Torvar— finally voiced what all of them had been thinking.
"We’re not going to make it back at this rate."
No one argued.
They were far too exhausted to deny the obvious.
Torvar weakly gestured towards the horses.
"There’s meat... food there."
"That would only buy the six of us two days at most," Brenden muttered.
"Not to mention, we’d have to complete the rest of the journey on foot," the Captain added.
"And in our current condition... that’s not happening."
"Too bad the paste they gave us is only edible for the horses," Eli said.
He stared at the ration bar in his hand and swallowed unconsciously.
"You could give it a try," Brenden said with a faint smirk.
"When you kick the bucket, we’ll eat your horse in your honour."
"You can keep quiet if you don’t have a better idea," Torvar shot back, giving him a sidelong glance.
"There’s no need to shoot down everyone else’s suggestions."
Brenden shrugged lightly.
"I don’t need to come up with ideas. That’s the Captain’s job."
He turned towards their leader.
"Cap, I’m sure you’ve got something in mind. Don’t keep us in suspense."
The soldiers all turned to look at their Captain.
The black-haired, middle-aged man felt the weight of their gazes settle upon him.
He did have a solution.
But...
It would require him to make a very dark choice.
***
