Elyas lost his sense of merriment and was now once again draped in a contemplative and remorseful mood.
The dread was there too, but it was overshadowed now and overshadowed by the surrealism of it all.
Djinn?
Tainted?
Titanicans?
Ghouls?
It didn't feel real.
But what was real was the consequence of it all because now, they were to witness the death of someone who didn't tread carefully.
And he was aware now that this execution wasn't for petty looting or involvement with the petty rogues; it was for a major transgression.
He hadn't a clue what it meant to have your blood tainted, but it surely seemed like a grave sin.
He tried to stare Harris intently in the eyes despite the distance for...
For what?
What did he want?
Was it clarity?
Maybe it was. Perhaps he just felt like he needed to look the dead man in the eyes so that he felt like he accounted for something even in his last moments.
So that he remained human to the very end.
He would've certainly wanted that from others during his first three executions when he was bawling his eyes out to his father, who tried to calm him with a joke.
Elyas turned to Alexander, standing behind him, to find that he still had that same noble look on his face, then he turned to Cenric, who was tense almost to the point of paralysis.
Elyas didn't focus on the Lord's following few words; it was a bunch of formalities anyway. His gaze instead went to the floor, reminiscing on his past.
He felt quite bad for smiling. It must've been quite mean to Harris, seeing someone jolly at his death right before he passed. He didn't feel the need to brag about his executions either because now... they felt inappropriate and meaningless.
Eventually, the Lord stepped aside and let a Guardian assume a position between him and Harris. Elyas perked up then, eyes returning to stare Harris in the eyes, remorseful and...
'Why is that Brass mask popping up now?'
Indeed.
Why did he remember it so vividly right this moment? Why did he feel so compelled to mimic its face?
The Guardian bled and summoned a fencing sword.
He brandished it and pressed it to Harris's neck.
Harris flinched at its cold touch and swayed his bleary eyes at the students once more.
It was almost impossible to know what that man was thinking.
The Lord clenched his jaw and placed a hand softly on Harris's head.
"May there be mercy on your soul... Rest in peace, Oh Harris of Manorson. Know we are grateful for your sacrifice."
The blade pierced his neck, and blood started seeping out of his neck, coiling about the thin blade, and disappearing at the hilt.
Slowly, Harris's body was drained and sapped of its colour.
And that was when it happened.
As if consumed by something arcane on the brink of death, Harris's eyes landed on Elyas, catching him by surprise.
Through his peril and countless students, Harris stared at him, and Elyas stared back.
Elyas's brows furrowed in remorse, but Harris's eyes glinted with content.
Content despite looking more like a shrivelled raisin by the second.
And then, before succumbing to his horrible fate, Elyas saw Harris mouth something with a weak smile along the lines of:
'Sinners... fall... Judgement?'
And a few seconds later, Harris died.
He flopped to the floor unceremoniously in an absolutely disturbing sight.
The Guardian dismissed his sword.
His corpse was dragged away.
The students stirred.
Cenric huffed.
But Elyas...
But Elyas froze.
Still staring back at Harris, he froze.
His expression was remorseful, his jaw was faltering, and his hands were sweating.
Why?
Because the beautiful voice had spoken in his ear yet again that familiar message that hovered before him:
< ... Blood Potency Enhanced ... >
***
Name: [ Elyas ]
Coherency: [ ... ]
Coherency Level: [ ... ]
Anchors: [ Brass Mask, ... ]
Blood Potency: [ 100/1000 ]
"Elyas? ... Elyas? ... Elyas?!"
A hand slapped his shoulder, and Elyas blinked the system away to notice Cenric standing before him, concernedly.
"Oh, sorry. Uh... I was uh... the birds are strange here, you see."
They were still in the square, and the Ceremony had just concluded. The students dispersed and were now milling about, gathering in groups, and discussing the morbid ceremony.
"I know you were checking your system, you don't have to lie... Do you want to talk about it?"
Elyas sighed with a soft smile and shook his head.
"Nah. Not yet."
Cenric nodded and said earnestly:
"Understood."
Elyas looked around, skimming over the countless faces swarming about.
"Where's Alexander?"
"He went to check up on Aurelia."
"Aurelia?"
"You'll get to know her. She's... nice."
Elyas raised an eyebrow, prompting Cenric to nervously readjust his glasses.
"Why'd you say it like that?"
"Like what?" Cenric asked, poorly concealing his obliviousness.
"Like you one hundred per cent don't believe what you said."
Cenric paused and licked the inside of his mouth with a look that said, 'Did I?'
Elyas continued staring at him questioningly before letting an impish smile curl his mouth.
"Eh, we'll find out either way, will we?" He patted Cenric on the back and said, "Come on, let's go get something to eat. Although my appetite is a bit silent now because of... all that."
"Actually, Alexander said to wait here until he returns. Easier to find us, you know?"
Elyas nodded.
"Fair enough. Any benches around then? My legs are tired."
They both scoured the area, eyes narrowing at all the possibilities.
"Some students are sitting on the statues' bases," Cenric noted.
"You're right. But why..."
His eyes landed on the statue of the Progenitor of their line, Sinnerway. It was strangely empty.
'Good enough for me.'
"Oh no, Elyas, not that," Cenric pointed out.
But Elyas was already gone, marching with his eyes drooling over the prospect of getting some rest.
'All this walking, all this standing, and now the system cries "Well Done" out of nowhere? Yeah, I need to sit down.'
Despite himself, Elyas was in a bitter mood.
There was no specific reason, really; it was just everything.
Why was he so clueless?
Why was he so behind?
Why was he humiliated and couldn't do anything about it?
And again, the students were sneaking glances and jeering at him on his way to the statue.
A male student, flirting with a bunch of girls, called out to him with all confidence:
"You're gonna punch me too! Your father is a dolt, how about that?! Come! Come punch me now!"
That grabbed some attention, and more students turned to him, joining in the laughs.
Elyas pretended like he didn't care, but in all truth, he couldn't not care. He could feel their eyes drill into him, and it made everything inside him cry in embarrassment.
Did they see him blush?
Hopefully they didn't.
He reached the statue, stared up at the grand woman peering into the distance with her hands dropped at her sides in defeat, and huffed.
'Dad... I miss you.'
He sagged on the base and looked at the floor, letting the mockery douse him unpleasantly until they moved on.
That's how it really was; they'd mock and mock and mock, and then they'd grow bored. But then they start over at a later time.
He just had to wait this phase out.
And surprisingly, it didn't take long-
"Have you no manners? Off. Now."
It was a cold woman's voice - firm, unfaltering and powerful.
Elyas jolted and jerked up to see Lilith staring down at him chillingly, with her arms crossed and her back straight.
His hands almost trembled under her glare.