Eternal Undying Chronicles

As the pale light of the morning sun crept over Evergreen City, the city stirred to life. The streets, once empty, began to fill with the early risers, each one moving with the lethargy of those who had yet to shake off the remnants of sleep.

Some, however, were only just heading to bed, their nights spent in the vibrant glow of the city's nightlife. Neon signs flickered off one by one as the daylight reclaimed its place, and the buzz of traffic started to grow.

Alicarde drove through these awakening streets, his car sleek and luxurious, reflecting the dawning light. The interior was spacious, with leather seats that cradled him in comfort, yet none of it brought him any peace.

His mind was a storm of conflicting emotions, and his body wished for rest, but he knew sleep would be impossible.

The nightmares had become a nightly torment, creeping into his mind like an unwanted visitor. He did, however, find some respite in daylight.

He could not sleep at night without experiencing nightmares, but he felt better during the day. Now that the sun was rising, his aggressive nighttime persona was taking a back seat for the calmer daytime version of himself to take its place, and Alicarde was filled with regret.

The sun's warmth, weak as it was in the early hours, seemed to chase away the darkness that plagued his nights.

He could still feel the chill of the previous night's actions clinging to him like a shroud. The memory of his rampage played over in his mind, each scene vivid and unrelenting.

"Ahhhhgrrr... why did I do all that? Why did I have to break their bones, why did I have to..." His thoughts were fragmented, a mixture of regret and confusion. He gripped the steering wheel tighter, the leather creaking under his hands.

"Damn it, why didn't I listen to Malefica? What the hell was I thinking, why did I try to take on so many of them? How much government property did I damage? I hope I didn't do any permanent damage to any of the soldiers."

The soldiers he had hurt—no, brutalized—were merely doing their duty. They were innocent of the sins that drove his wrath, yet he had unleashed his fury upon them without restraint.

He had the power, yes, but that power had drawn unwanted attention, and he had crossed a line.

"What was I thinking?" He couldn't find an answer that satisfied him, only the sinking realization that he had acted out of some twisted sense of satisfaction, and he loved every moment of it. Thinking about it even now gave him some degree of thrill.

Alicarde shook his head. He needed to drown out these dark thoughts. Reaching over, he turned on the car's radio, hoping to find something—anything—that could distract him.

The interior of the car was silent for a moment, then filled with a voice that was all too familiar, yet distorted, sinister. It was his own, echoing back at him from the previous night.

"The guilty will know agony."

The broadcast was a replay of the events that had unfolded just hours ago. The radio hosts discussed it with a mix of fear and intrigue, speculating on the identity of the figure they had dubbed "The Reaper."

They dissected his words, trying to piece together his motivations, and all the while, Alicarde felt his stomach knot tighter.

"And there you have it, people. The Reaper, as he's being called, delivered those chilling words before vanishing into the night. But who is he? A vigilante? A demon? One thing's for sure, whoever he is, he's made his presence known in the most terrifying way possible."

"Great, I'm now the talk of the town," Alicarde muttered, his voice laced with bitterness. He ran a hand through his hair, pulling at it slightly as if trying to wake himself from this nightmare.

"Just great… what the hell was I thinking?"

His eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of his own reflection, shadowed and tired. The sight of his own face, drawn and pale, only deepened his sense of unease. He looked like a stranger to himself, like a man teetering on the edge of something dark and irreversible.

"This is who I am now huh," he murmured, though the words felt hollow even as he spoke them. "I'm not some monster... am I?"Nôv(el)B\\jnn

He clenched his jaw, frustration boiling beneath the surface. Why did he always end up here, questioning himself after the damage was already done? He knew the answer, of course. The power he wielded, the rage that surged through him, it was intoxicating. But it was also dangerous, consuming him bit by bit.

"I need to get a grip," he said, almost desperately. "I can't keep losing control like this."

He knew he needed to be better, stronger—not just in body, but in will. He couldn't afford to let the darkness inside him dictate his actions. Not again.

But how many times had he told himself that? How many times had he sworn to change, only to fall back into the same vicious cycle?

"Dammit, Alicarde, get your shit together," he hissed, slamming his palm against the steering wheel. The sudden pain snapped him back to reality, if only for a moment.

Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm the storm raging within him. He had a choice to make to be the man he wanted to be, or to give in to the darkness that seemed to beckon him at every turn.

He had to keep fighting. For himself, for Carrisa, for the people who still believed in him.

"No more mistakes," he whispered, the words a promise, a plea, a challenge. "No more, next time, I'll just kill all my problems"

Nothing changed, his dark desires still owed his heart.

Alicarde finally made it to the mansion, parking his car just outside the grand entrance. The luxurious doors loomed before him, but he bypassed them, heading straight into the spacious living room.

There, sprawled across one of the plush sofas, lay Argint—her red hair splayed out against the cushion, and her form relaxed beneath an oversized hoodie that was clearly not her own. The room, bathed in the soft glow of ambient lighting, seemed almost surreal in its quietness.

Alicarde couldn't help but feel a twinge of irritation mixed with reluctant admiration. His hoodie suited her far too well, and he had to admit she looked like a fairy lost in a dream—'a literal sleeping beauty,' he muttered under his breath, amused.

He briefly considered reenacting the original fairytale storyline but quickly dismissed the idea. Argint, though peaceful now, would revert to her spirited, feral self the moment she woke.

As he loomed over her, watching her serene expression, she stirred. In the past, she would have pounced on him, her usual aggressive self asserting dominance, but lately, she'd settled for stealing his clothes instead. She claimed it was to protect him from the "vampire stink" of Elizalina, which he found amusing but did not dare challenge.

He sighed and turned to leave, but before he could take a step, her hand shot out, grabbing his arm.

"Hey, welcome back home," she muttered groggily.

"Morning, Argint," he greeted, his tone casual. "Is there a reason you're sleeping on the sofa? I think this mansion has more than enough rooms," he teased lightly.

"Mhm... must've dozed off," Argint grumbled, her voice still heavy with sleep, yet there was an adorable quality to her grogginess that Alicarde couldn't ignore.

Seeing her so defenseless, wrapped in his clothes, stirred something primal within him. It was a satisfaction, almost possessive in nature, to see her draped in something of his, like a territorial mark. He tried to shake off the thought.

"Why are you wearing my hoodie?" he asked, feigning annoyance but genuinely curious.

"What, afraid I'll give you cooties?" she teased, a lazy grin spreading across her face.

He kept his expression stoic, though his tone took on a sarcastic edge. "Oh no, the great Alicarde brought low by the fear of cooties. However will I recover?"

Argint chuckled softly, her eyes still half-closed. "Wow, you sound so terrified."

"Sure, I'm quaking in my boots," he deadpanned, rolling his eyes.

Before he could continue, she shifted slightly, her expression growing more serious. "Before I forget... you caused quite an uproar last night. You're all over the news."

"Yeah, I know," Alicarde admitted, a note of regret slipping into his voice.

"A warrior must master their strength, or risk becoming a slave to it," Argint said, her voice unusually profound.

He nodded, acknowledging her point. "I know, I'll be more careful next time."

Satisfied, she relaxed back onto the sofa, her eyes closing once more. It was clear she had roused herself just to deliver that message.

"Do you want me to give you a goodnight kiss?" Alicarde quipped, trying to lighten the mood.

Without opening her eyes, Argint replied, "Go ahead, if you have a death wish."

Alicarde leaned in close, his voice dropping to a whisper by her ear. "I'm immortal, remember? And it seems worth the risk."

With that, he planted a quick kiss on her cheek and darted away before she could retaliate.

Argint's eyes fluttered open, a faint smile tugging at her lips as she watched him retreat. She shook her head lightly before sinking back into the comfort of sleep.

Alicarde stepped into the elevator and sighed deeply.

'I get it now... that's why she was sleeping on the sofa. How pathetic... I always have people worried about me,' he thought, clenching his fists as the elevator ascended.

Reaching the sixth floor, he headed straight to the master suite. He moved quietly, not wanting to disturb Carrisa as he approached the door to the luxurious bath.

The dark wood contrasted with the sleek, modern fixtures, a blend of luxury and functionality. He dropped the guitar case, which held his sword, onto a plush sofa before stepping inside the expansive bath.

The room was a marvel of luxury—polished marble floors, a deep soaking tub surrounded by shimmering tiles, and a chandelier casting a soft glow over everything.

Alicarde couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt as he recalled spending seven hundred thousand dinars on his indulgence. It was a foolish whim, born of some twisted desire, and now the regret was almost annoyingly suffocating.

After a long, relaxing soak, Alicarde emerged and headed to the walk-in closet in his room. He selected a casual outfit from a niche luxury brand.

The soft fabric felt like a second skin as he dressed. He chose a designer watch to complete the look, a subtle touch of elegance. Just as he was about to leave, something on the bed caught his eye.

It was Carrisa, her lithe form resting atop the silky sheets. Her eyes fluttered open as she sensed his presence, her gaze locking onto his with an unreadable expression.

Alicarde braced himself, unsure of what she might say. Would she reprimand him for the expense or for his reckless actions the previous night?

"Good morning," she greeted, sitting up on the bed, her voice calm and measured.

Alicarde fumbled for words. "If this is about the seven hundred thousand dinars, then, uh... well, I... stuff happened and, um..."

Carrisa looked at him, puzzled. "What are you talking about? Why would I concern myself with something so inconsequential?"

Her words instantly eased the tension in his shoulders. 'Seven hundred thousand dinars is inconsequential? I really need to shed this pauper mentality,' he mused, smiling at the thought.

"As expected of my sugar mommy, Carrisa," he teased. "You're not concerned about something so inconsequential. So then, why are you in my room and on my bed?"

Carrisa's lips curved into a subtle smile.

"I was awaiting your return. Your actions last night, though less destructive than anticipated, still displayed commendable restraint. You did not take any lives... I am pleased with your progress. And as for why I am here... can I not lay upon your bed?"

"Sure, whatever. Do as you please," Alicarde replied, his tone deadpan.

She opened her arms slightly, her smile deepening. "I believe you deserve a reward... perhaps a kiss?"

Alicarde maintained his poker face. "Did you acquire the data from the bank? That was the objective, after all," he inquired seriously, though he already knew the answer.

"I did," Carrisa confirmed, standing up gracefully. "We shall discuss the details over breakfast."

This chapter upload first at NovelBin.Com