Bloody Odyssey

Chapter 61: Beauty

"The details will be sent to your lenses. We depart tomorrow. Be prepared."

Dax waved once, a casual flick of his hand, then turned and left the training room with Nadia walking at his side. The heavy doors slid shut behind them, cutting off the sounds of the squad still buzzing with excitement and questions.

He didn't think too much on it. Moments later he was outside his fortress, standing on the wide stone ledge that overlooked the plains of Vados. The wind carried the dry scent of grass and earth. The sun sat low, turning everything gold and long-shadowed. Dax breathed in slowly, eyes scanning the horizon.

"They show signs of intelligence and even take on roles," he said quietly.

Below, the multitude of goblins moved through their daily lives. Some hauled water in crude buckets, others sharpened spears against flat stones, a group of females tended small cookfires while children darted between legs, chasing each other with sticks. Sentries perched on makeshift towers of stacked crates, eyes sharp on the surrounding plains. It looked almost like a village—rough, noisy, alive.

Dax smiled. Small, real, without mockery.

What a strange man, Nadia thought as she followed a step behind. Her face held a complex look—curiosity warring with caution, a flicker of warmth tangled with wariness.

"Let's go, Nadia."

Dax stretched his hand toward her. His red eyes were gentle in the fading light, softer than she had ever seen them. With grace they floated upward, the ground dropping away smoothly beneath their feet. No rush, no strain—just effortless lift.

Nadia felt the energy at once. Gentle, warm, cradling her body like invisible hands. She tried to observe it with her mana sense, reaching out with thin threads of power. But all she could grasp was the sensation itself—a soft, supportive force that refused to be pinned down or analyzed.

"Master…" she began, staring at him.

Dax glanced sideways. "I don't know why you call me that, really. Me saving your life doesn't make me your master."

His tone stayed gentle, no edge, no command—just truth spoken quietly.

With grace they hovered above a calm glassy lake. The water lay perfectly still, mirroring the sky in flawless detail—orange sunset bleeding into deep blue, clouds drifting slow and lazy. Almost deliberate, Dax stretched his hand downward and brushed his fingers against the surface.

Little fishes rose immediately. Silver bodies flashed as they followed his fingers in tight, joyful circles. A small school formed around his hand, spiraling and darting in a perfect dance, scales catching the last sunlight like scattered gems.

"This world is beautiful," Dax said, appreciating the scenery. "If only my life was as tranquil as this lake."

He let the words settle between them for a moment.

"I can finally enjoy the fruits of life. To see and enjoy beauty is truly a gift. And now I can enjoy it without feeling insatiable."

Nadia listened in silence. His voice carried no pride, only quiet acceptance.

"Nadia, address me as Dax. Formalities are not for me."

He smiled again—small, genuine.

"Isn't it good to be free?"

Dax laughed beautifully. The sound rolled low and clear across the water, bright and unguarded. Then he descended slowly into the lake, letting the surface part around him without a single splash.

He submerged himself completely into the body of water.

Nadia blinked in surprise. Why?

But she didn't dwell on the action. Instead she thought of his question.

It truly feels good to be me again, though.

Her voice came out soft, almost a whisper to herself. She landed gently on a steep rock beside the lake, sitting with knees drawn up, watching Dax's form beneath the clear surface. His white hair floated like pale silk, red eyes closed in calm peace. Ripples spread outward from where he had vanished, tiny waves lapping quietly at the stone.

He is different. Though he may be cruel, he has compassion on things this world lacks.

What's his story? Nadia muttered unknowingly. Her eyes stayed lost on Dax's figure under the water—peaceful, almost vulnerable in that moment.

"Horah! What is a beautiful lady like you doing here?"

A man in expensive gear stepped out of the bushes with two others trailing behind. Fine embroidered cloak, polished leather boots, sword hilt studded with bright gems. His guards wore heavy plate, hands already resting on hilts.

Nadia looked behind herself with a calm expression.

"Please come back when we are gone," she replied casually.

But the tone of her voice—soft, melodic—projected her as prey without her intending it.

The young man smiled wider. "How rude of me. My father is—"

"I don't care who your father is. Neither do I care to know you."

Her voice rebuked him cleanly, yet it stayed harmonious—clear notes wrapped in quiet steel.

Dax stepped out from the lake. Every particle of water on his body hung suspended, perfect droplets refusing to fall. He walked forward, clothes and hair already dry the instant he broke the surface.

"Who are these guests?" Dax asked, looking at them.

Instantly a cold chill traveled down their spines.

Dax walked closer, observing them like specimens under examination—head tilted slightly, red eyes scanning without hurry or emotion.

The man in expensive gear shivered hard, clutching his own arm. What is wrong with me? he asked himself silently.

Suddenly he heard the loud voice of his guard.

"How dare you look at the House of Crest with such eyes!"

Dax didn't reply. Instead he walked past them. Nadia followed right behind.

"Not even stronger than old Zain," Dax said on passing the man, voice low and almost thoughtful.

On getting a better look, they laid sight on Dax's white hair.

Their reaction was instant.

"A Godfall!"

They snapped to alert—swords half-drawn, stances shifting, mana flaring around them.

In an instant the young master of the Crest clan snorted.

"Washed-up clan."

Dax ignored them completely. He continued chatting with Nadia, familiarizing himself with her in quiet, easy conversation. His tone stayed calm, relaxed, as though the three men didn't exist.

Nadia had a lot to ask, seeing him voluntarily speak to her like this—open, unhurried. Questions rose inside her, but she held them for now, simply listening and walking beside him.

The men of Crest boiled. Especially the young master.

How dare he look down on me?

He clenched his fist tight.

But not even up to a hair's breadth of time passed before a black gate appeared beneath the Crest young master. It swallowed him and the weaker guard in one silent, perfect gulp.

Welcome to the backrooms.