[OUTDATED] Chapter 177 - Basilisk

WARNING!

THIS CHAPTER WAS REWORKED! SKIP TO THE NEXT ONE FOR THE EDIT!

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As Freddy activated his spirit ability, he immediately sprinted out into the hallway. Travis easily kept up with him, given that he was severely slowed down, but it didn’t take long for the ratio to twist, and for Freddy to leave the man behind. 

Freddy leaped from one wall to another, turning corners down the hallways until he finally spotted the two men who had just left his room. Their backs were turned to him. 

With a thought, he cast a double-starred Blood Javelin, conjuring two spears, one in each hand. He allowed the left one to float in the air as he pulled his arm back and prepared to throw the one he was holding in his right. 

His Hydraulic Throw activated with both stars as well, and he felt the explosive potential building in his muscles as the tension concept went to work. He allowed it to build until it charged to the point where it would tear his muscles apart, and then, just as the time dilation of Twisted Pendulum was about to end, he threw the spear, adding a double-starred Accelerate Blood Projectile into the mix. 

The javelin left his hand with such an immense amount of force that the stone cracked under his feet, and the air imploded with a deafening crack, and the javelin floating in the air beside him immediately followed, flying with the exact same speed and power as its counterpart. 

And their target? 

The back of Basilisk’s head. 

Freddy fully expected to see the man’s brain scatter on the walls, but with an absolutely impossible reaction time, the man raised a hand covered in stone scales and intercepted the first spear without even turning around. 

The javelin bounced off his hand with an unbelievable amount of force, ricocheting at the wall and then bouncing off it with a series of high-pitched metallic pings and a final crash as it collapsed the wall on the other end of the hallway, but it barely left a scratch on the stone scales, even if the sheer momentum had sent the man tumbling forward—unfortunately, out of the way of the second javelin. 

Basilisk groaned and shouted in surprise as he came to a stop. 

Mark pulled out his sword and whirled to face Freddy. “What the hell do you think you’re doing!?” he shouted. 

“Shut the hell up!” Freddy yelled back. “Out of the way or you’re dead, too!”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Mark declared coldly as he got into a stance. 

Something about the stance immediately tickled Freddy’s memory. He recognized the stance. Hell, he recognized the sword Mark was holding. He froze on the spot as his lips twisted into an ugly snarl. “You’re the one who killed him.” 

Basilisk finally got back to his feet and glared angrily at Freddy. “You really have a death wish, don’t you?”

Freddy conjured his Sanguine Avenger just as Travis appeared behind him. His eyes met Basilisk’s and then Mark’s gaze as he slowly took a step forward.

The stretch of hallway between the two pairs of men grew deathly still as they eyed each other. 

It was at that moment that a green flash of light lit up the ceiling in the middle of the hallway, right between them, and the stone crumbled, dropping to the floor together with a very angry adjudicator. The man glanced at Basilisk and Mark, and then back at Freddy. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Adjudicator,” Freddy greeted in acknowledgement. “Please get out of my way.”

“I asked you a question, Mr. Cliff.” The man released his aura. It was a ghastly thing. The full brunt of a four-star’s aura was something that should have made Freddy drop to his knees. Travis, in fact, did drop to his knees, panting as sweat washed over him. 

But Freddy didn’t. He stood deathly still, his crimson executioner’s sword in his hand. “Please.” He repeated himself. “I really need you to get out of my way.”

“Adjudicator,” Basilisk called. “Good that you’re here.” The man pointed at Freddy. “Arrest him. He just tried to assassinate me.”

“Do not push your luck, serpent,” the adjudicator said, turning the brunt of his aura in Basilisk’s direction. “I know you well enough to know you’re guilty of whyever he’s trying to kill you, so don’t play the innocent victim card on me!”

Basilisk snarled. “Is this how you treat your guests, then? You wouldn’t want me to report this to the high council, would you?”

“Hah!” The adjudicator’s expression darkened. “Big words for a fallen Lord!”

Freddy took another step forward, but just as he did, the adjudicator fired a shard of crystallized miasma right at the floor in front of him. “Mr. Cliff. I will not repeat myself a third time. Step back.”

Freddy gritted his teeth. “Why are you defending them?”

“Are you out of your damn mind!?” The adjudicator shouted. “You are trying to kill my guests right under my nose!”

Releasing an ugly laugh, Freddy reminded the man, “Oh, so now I’m not allowed to kill someone in this city?”

“Do not play the fool with me. You are seriously testing the limits of my patience. And I would think twice about challenging these two if I were you.” The man glared at him with a crazed look. “So step. Back.”

“Oh?” A woman’s voice came from behind Freddy. “What’s going on here?”

The adjudicator visibly paled. “Miss Umbra.”

Freddy glanced behind him and spotted the dark-affinity archhuman woman standing there, grinning widely. “Please, Judge, call me Emily.” She waved generously. “Oh, and don’t let me distract you! I’m just going to stand here and watch.” She moved over and leaned back against the wall, giving them a final, cheerful wave and then a dismissive swipe of her hand, as if encouraging them to continue whatever they were doing.

The adjudicator turned his glare back at Freddy with a dire warning behind it, clearly urging him to back away. 

But he couldn’t. Fury unlike any he’d ever felt in his life was burning inside him. He wasn’t in a backing away kind of mood. So he turned his gaze from the adjudicator to look directly at Mark. “How could you, Mark?”

Mark was confused for all of a second before a realization suddenly struck him. He burst into a sudden bout of uncontrollable laughter. “So it is you! I knew it! I… just… knew it!” he shouted enthusiastically. “I kept thinking to myself that it’s impossible, but there were so many signs! Motherfuckin’ Freddy Stern is not only still alive, but he’s all grown up, isn’t he?”

Freddy chuckled darkly. “You’re a goddamn psychopath.”

A stream of people appeared on both ends of the hallway. Many of them were servants,  but at the forefront were the rest of the young elites, who had no doubt come to see what caused the disturbance. 

At this point, the adjudicator could do nothing but stand there with a resigned look.

Mark cocked his head at Freddy’s accusation. “A psychopath? Who?” He pointed at himself. “Me?” The man looked at him with an amused look. And then, that amusement instantly fell away, replaced by a flat, hollow stare that pierced Freddy’s soul. “Those are big words coming from someone like you, Freddy.” He took a step forward. “And what are you, then? You, who lured a man into a back alley to kill him?”

Freddy paled at the mention of that. “What did you just say?”

Mark’s grin returned. “What? You thought I didn’t know about that?” He scoffed. “And you’re a thief, too. You stole from the Kraven Clan.”

Freddy laughed at that. “The guilt must have eaten your brain if you actually believe what you’re saying.”

“No, Freddy,” the man said coldly. “You’re right that I felt guilty. And of course you’d know that, because you played on my emotions. Manipulated me. You sold me the story of the sad little orphan”—he mimed wiping tears from the corners of his eyes—”who was just trying to get by in life. By stealing. And killing. I mean, look at yourself. Do you really believe you’re the good guy here? Dear Lord, you joined a group of terrorists!”

“You shut your mouth!” Travis suddenly shouted from beside Freddy. 

Mark sneered at Travis and then continued. “You know what kinds of stories I heard about the renowned ‘Freddy Cliff’? It isn’t flattering. Ripping people’s heads off. Assassinating innocent delvers. Mass murder, raids on local businesses, public executions; it’s like you think you’re a god! But you’re not.

“You’re a petty, violent, monstrous tyrant. So let’s drop this farce, okay?” Mark turned to the group of people standing around the room. “You should all be careful in your dealings with this man. He just tried to kill my dear friend here in cold blood. Watch your back in these hallways, you never know when he’s going to lose it!”

“Just stop,” Freddy muttered.

Mark shot him a derisive grin and continued. “Also, just so you all know since he’s certainly keeping it a secret—his talent is basically an infinite source of supreme-quality healing!”

“You!” Freddy shouted as he took a furious step forward. “I told you to stop.”

But Mark didn’t. “That’s right, you heard me! Supreme quality! You’ve all definitely heard the rumors of the high-end organs coming from this place. Well, look no further than this man’s very body! And tell me, do you think he could possibly be in his right mind? What kind of person could tear their own guts out over and over and over, treating themselves like a living organ incubator? If he does that to himself, what do you think he’s willing to do to others?”

It was at that moment that something within Freddy cracked. 

His aura, which had already been fully released, pulled on the depths of his soul. The weight of the numerous stage 3 abilities he had. Their extreme compression. Visions of the churning, pulsating universe of macabre insanity flashed across his vision as he struggled to breathe. 

And then, he just let it all out. 

The color of the space around him instantly drained. 

At that moment, the room went deathly quiet, and everyone turned to look at him.

A look of pure, unrestrained hate pierced Mark like an arrow, and the man found himself taking an involuntary step back.

Then, Freddy chuckled. And it all went away like it never even happened. In a shocking contrast, he calmly shook his head. “Nobody here is a fool, Mark. People know who I am and what I’ve done. I won’t defend myself as I know better than anyone that I’m far from perfect. But you”—he pointed a finger at him—”are a lost cause. I see a shell of a man when I look at you. A hollow, echoing husk. 

“Ask yourself—what are you trying to accomplish by spilling my secret like this? What, are you hoping someone here will kidnap me and turn me into an organ farm?” Freddy chuckled as he looked around the room. “Any takers?”

“I might give it a go,” Emily Umbra said from behind him with a deadpan look on her face. 

The way she said it genuinely sent a chill down Freddy’s spine. “Uh…” he muttered. “Please don’t?”

She stared at him for a long moment. And then, she burst into a sudden bout of laughter. “Okay? I guess I won’t then, since you asked so nicely.”

Freddy chuckled awkwardly at her. “Uhm… Thanks. Anyway…” Freddy turned back to Mark. He was going to say something, but then, he just shrugged and turned around. 

Basilisk shouted after him, “And where do you think you’re going?” he asked. “You think you can make an attempt on my life and then walk away?”

“Sure I can—watch me.” And then he proceeded to do exactly that. 

***

Basilisk watched Freddy Stern turn around and walk away with a look of pure disbelief on his face. He turned to the adjudicator. “You’re letting him go,” he accused. 

The adjudicator met Basilisk’s gaze and scoffed. “Of course I am. You’ve felt the same thing I did. My primary duty is to nourish talent like that. And just so you know, if you try to touch him, I will defend his life.”

“Even if he attacks me first?”

The adjudicator nodded.

Basilisk remained quiet for a few long seconds. “You will regret this.”

“Are you threatening an imperial official, Harold?” The man warned. “You are not a Lord anymore. Stop acting like one.”

Basilisk gritted his teeth as he pushed a smile to his lips. “Why of course. How could I forget?” He tapped the side of his head. “Thank you for stepping in to… defend me, Adjudicator. I’ll be sure to pay the favor back.” And with that, he turned around. 

Mark followed after him. 

Before long, they made it to the room they were staying in, and Basilisk slammed the door shut behind him. “He dislocated my shoulder,” he said simply.

Mark’s eyes widened. “How?”

Harold winced as he pushed his shoulder back into place. “Three stage 3 abilities, by my guess. And something on top of that.”

With a sardonic chuckle, Mark shook his head. “No wonder he has an aura like that, then. Shit. What do we do now?”

“We leave,” the man said. “We aren’t welcome here. The adjudicator will keep taking his side, and I expect him to abuse that at every turn.” He gave Mark a serious look. “I count myself lucky to have survived that.” Raising the hand he used to defend himself, he dropped the stone scales and showed a giant bruise that started at his palm and reached half-way up his forearm. 

Mark scowled. “Are you really going to let him trample all over you like that?”

“No. Of course I won’t. I’ll have my revenge.” A sudden, sadistic grin split the man’s face apart. “But before then, I’ll send him a message.”

***

Freddy sat on the corner of his bed. A deep numbness had settled all throughout his body. 

It took all he had not to think about Mark’s words. And yet, he still failed. No matter how many times he tried to shut it out, the same questions reared their ugly heads over and over again. Mark was wrong. Even he himself likely knew that. But while a lot of it was just bullshit the man said to piss him off, some of it hit a little too close to his deepest insecurities. 

The doors to his room opened and the adjudicator walked inside. The man stopped a few feet away from him.

Freddy tentatively glanced at the man’s face. The deeply displeased frown made him look away.

“I hope you’re aware just how much you strained my reputation today, Mr… Stern,” the man said. “Is that your real name?”

Freddy nodded. “Yes. And before you ask, I changed it because I was running from people who wanted me dead.”

“The Kraven Clan?” The adjudicator chuckled darkly. “That is one hell of a coincidence. What exactly did you steal from them?”

“I never stole anything from anyone!” Freddy shouted. “I was falsely accused. Then I was kidnapped and tortured for half a year. Basilisk played a part in that. That’s part of why I tried killing him.”

The adjudicator sighed and pinched his brow. “I will need a way to confirm your real identity. And, if you have a way to prove your allegations against Mr. Maskaart, it would go a long way to justifying my decision to protect you.”

“You can ask Matt Canstone about it. I’m sure Lady Narcisse Morleppe would be glad to corroborate my story.”

“Good,” the man said with a nod. “That’s good.” He released something that resembled a sigh of relief. “And about your talent. I am not happy that it was revealed in front of everyone like that. But, for what it’s worth, you don’t have to be afraid. You are currently under my protection.”

I’m afraid of you more than anyone else, Freddy thought but adopted a thankful smile anyway. “Thank you, Judge. And I’m sorry for the commotion I caused. I promise it won’t happen again.”

“I will hold you to that promise.” The man leaned forward, getting almost close enough to kiss Freddy as he stared deep into his eyes. “This isn’t a joke. Next time, when I tell you to back away, you will listen to me. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, Judge. It won’t happen again.”

“Good,” the man spat and turned around. “Our guests are no doubt familiar with Basilisk. He’s a rather notorious individual. Trying to kill him will hardly wound their opinion of you.”

Freddy snorted at that. “Loveable guy, huh?”

The adjudicator shook his head. “It takes a lot to lose a Lordship in the empire. But he’s crossed so many lines and so many people that it was hardly surprising. That being said, he is still incredibly dangerous, and antagonizing him was a poor choice on your part. Be careful of him. He won’t stop until he ruins you.” And with those words, the man walked out of the room. 

Freddy felt deeply uneasy at the warning, but there wasn’t much he could do about it now. 

Obviously, he wouldn’t let it go. Sooner or later, he would have that serpent’s head. 

But his thoughts were more occupied with Mark.

It was hard to come to terms with the fact that he was the same Mark he’d once known. Freddy’s mind simply refused to fuse the image of the two individuals together. Perhaps it was wrong to even try. 

A small part of him wanted to have nothing to do with Mark ever again. But that wasn’t going to happen.

For most of that day, there were no knocks on Freddy’s door. He was dreading the thought of someone knocking on his door. No matter who came, it wouldn’t be good. 

But nothing could prepare him for the frantic, panicked knocks that came from the other side. For the screams of a young woman begging for Freddy to hurry up and open the door. 

So he did. 

And there, he saw Janice, disheveled and wide-eyed, holding a lacerated, bruised Lucas Black, with all his fingers missing, his tongue cut off, and his eyes gouged out of his skull.