Vreios: The Four Gifted Clans

Hasty footsteps broke the dead silence of the night. It belonged to a bloodied young man running for his dear life. Not once did he look back. Knowing that the faster he gets to a crowded street, the safer he would be, the young man kept running.

Not far behind him was a man wearing a black mask and a hood to cover his face.

That man, together with his companion, attacked Chrys’ home that night. Chrys’ father fended off the two as he handed him a crystal compass and told him to run to Swyn Academy; there, he would find someone he could trust.

Chrys was slowly losing his energy; his pace started to slow down as each step felt heavier than before.

“Should I just fight him?” He muttered. He was confident that he could beat the man in a fight, but without a weapon, Chrys stood no chance.

Not far ahead, Chrys could see the lights of the busy city street. The sound of countless footsteps and people chattering caused a sudden flare of hope to rush through his veins. He just need to run a bit more to reach safety.

That moment of hope was fleeting. The masked man unsheathed his sword. The metal blade scraped the ground as the masked man dragged it, sending Chrys a sense of utter panic. He must get away before the man activates his Regalia.

“Game over, boy!” The man shouted as he made a dash towards Chrys and activated his Regalia. Slowly, his sword started to rust.

If that rusted sword touch Chrys even once, his body would slowly decompose until even his bones are turned into dust. It would be a gruesome and painful death.

Without looking back, Chrys kept running.

The attacker gained on him and swung his sword. Sensing it, Chrys’ twisted his body and avoided the blow. All those years of training sharpened his skills and senses. He wouldn’t let those tireless days of training go to waste. And sure as hell, he wouldn’t die without a proper fight.

The masked man kept swinging his sword, and Chrys was getting tired. He didn’t know how long he could keep avoiding them. With such troublesome power, Chrys’ couldn’t even fight back.

Chrys avoided another blow, but the attacker followed up with a strong kick that made Chrys fumble forward on the ground.

“You’re a troublesome brat. I’ll make it extra painful for you.” The man said as he swung his sword forward.

There was no way Chrys would let himself get killed without a proper fight. If he would die at that man’s hands, he should at least land a proper blow.

Chrys regained his balance as adrenaline filled his blood. He rolled to the side and avoided the blow, he turned around and caught the blade of the sword that was thrusting towards his stomach. He gripped the blade tight as he felt the pain in his hand.

The attacker pushed the sword forward, stabbing Chrys and closing the distance between them. Chrys was weakening, but he used the last of his strength to land a heavy punch on the man’s face.

As the pain radiated all throughout his body, Chrys slowly lost his senses. He could smell his own blood as the only thing he could hear was white noise. As his vision got blurry, Chrys saw his attacker muttered something, seemingly surprised.

To make sure he wouldn’t live, the man swung his sword towards Chrys one last time.

The last thing that Chrys saw was a whip made of silver wrapped around the man’s hand and the hilt of the sword, preventing him to land the killing blow, then another silver whip wrapped around the man’s neck choking him.

Then everything went black.