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   Chapter 60 Stopping Time

SANCTUM By JMFelic Characters: 13033

Updated: 2018-08-29 22:01


Clave Ancestral House

Hours Before

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*

"Use your other senses Marcus. Don't depend on only what your eyes can show you, " Heron stated as he stood straight with arms crossed at the top of a large gray boulder. "The spirit of a demon is hard to notice, especially when your human senses are dull."

Marcus nodded right after he placed the handkerchief around his eyes. The instant he did, his hearing heightened and his sense of touch too was elevated. He could hear Heron's voice from where he stood a couple of feet away from him. He could hear the gentle hush of the wind and even the rustle of the leaves of the pine trees. He could feel immediately the coldness of the wind, but this time it was a lot more pronounced than he was without the eye cover.

The area they were in was the one Heron chose when he was scouting around the house this afternoon under Cirrus' order. This area here, the pungent odor didn't reach. It was a good location too as the clearing was wide and flat. A few boulders and football-sized rocks were present but they weren't bothersome. They actually provided him the props he needed to use in their training. The amount of trees around them are advantageous too as he can hide during the training in one of them.

As was a routine, Heron shape-shifted into a black mist; so black that it is almost like a shadow of himself, only that it was hovering mid air, not pinned to the ground. The black mist lunged forward towards Marcus; a soft howl he could distinguish in his auditory system. But, still human as he is, he needed his eyes to see... to see where Heron was attacking.

To late for that however.

The black mist shaped itself into five sharp daggers and incised Marcus' arm and thigh. He did feel the pain — even gritted his teeth in response — but for some reason, he felt that he was already immune to it. So many... so many were the wounds that Heron had inflicted in him for almost everyday of their training. What more has he not found painful?

He stepped back, focusing on his sense of hearing again. This time, he could hear the daggers plunging towards him along all sides.

Shite.

This is going to be harder than he thought. How can he escape from them when they are attacking together and in different directions?

However, this is exactly the best scenario for him to be in. This is exactly a great lesson for him to learn. When he becomes an exorcist priest, the least he could do is to dodge the demons attacks. He believes that he is worthy to survive in that kind of situation in the future. And to make that belief a reality, he must first survive in the predicament that he is in right now.

Without a second thought, he ran as fast as he could in a zigzag fashion, covering an entire space similar to a basketball court. Stopping abruptly and stooping suddenly to dodge a dagger that targeted his shoulders. Then, he turned to the left and turned to the right, almost like he knew exactly where the daggers are zeroing in. A near miss here and there, until Marcus felt one dagger burying deep in his femoral region. His sense of touch heightened as he yelped in pain. He then fell in the ground like a wounded hero in war.

Damn that demon.

He was definitely enjoying tormenting him.

What followed was a whoosh of something solid in the background. Then that something crash-landed on Marcus' back. It was one of the football-sized rocks in the clearing. Another hit him in the chest. Then another quickly followed in his left ribcage.

Shite.

If he isn't going to stand up now, he is going to be a rotten squash after a few seconds.

He angled to a sitting position, then dislodged himself from the bosom of the earth and quickly pranced to where he thought would at least be a safe leverage for him.

It was safe...for now...and Heron could see it... could see clearly the taunting cliff.

If th

f a tall, fit man emerged wearing a black open trench coat that befitted someone of high status. He sported also a black trouser and a black turtleneck shirt— an ensemble that screamed both suave and brooding. He was as tall as Cirrus. Handsome like him too. With a demonic aura that was undeniable. His aquamarine hair was unkempt in sexy shaggy curls, with its braided tail shoved in his right shoulder. He was crossing his arms and staring sharp red eyes back at her.

"For now, I will release you. You are connected to me in the first place... and I, in you. But learn the power well and hard my Selene... control it.. so you can deliver it to me soon..."

He grinned and grinned wickedly. Aurora was stunned speechless. She couldn't believe it. Floating in her front was this man.. this man she had seen in her dream or so to say... in one of her jumps. This man was with Selene that time.. the man who had showered her with ecstasy inside that hexagonal-shaped room. The demon that the old exorcist priest had attempted to exorcise.

But wait.. Isn't he supposed to be dead? She saw the divine current enveloped his body. She saw his body turn into patches... she saw him disappear in front of her eyes! Why now is he here?! And what is he saying now? That they are connected?!

What was the name of that demon the Holy Pope had mentioned to her again? The demon who has the power to wield time and space?

Khronus.

It was Khronus right?

He is Khronus!!!??? Aurora yelled in her thoughts.

The demon smirked in amusement. As if he knew exactly what she was thinking. Formal introductions, it seems, is not needed anymore.

"Aurora..." he echoed her name as if he was putting kisses on it. "I will be waiting for you...in hell."

Then, he disappeared. Just disappeared. No shadows... no mists... no lightning flash... no dusts... nothing... just disappeared without a trace the same fashion as he did when he appeared.

Aurora swallowed hard, wetting the back of her parched throat. Her fingers could feel a small rock in the ground and so she took it and attempted to throw it out from where Khronus was floating earlier. But a hand caught her wrist, stopping her in the process.

She darted a half-surprised, half-scared look towards her captor, but then relief immediately washed her face.

Standing behind her was Cirrus, who was as much surprised as she was. He surveyed the scene and saw Marcus lying next to her, just in the process of getting up. Wet strands of his hair were sticking on his forehead due to his sweat and he had a puzzled expression on his face.

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