The Laughing Swordsman

The black dragon muttered despondently.

"It appears I will lose a follower..."

It closed its eyes.

"I am sorry, Noctis..."

The black head's dragon gradually disintegrated into a black mist.

"But you simply chose someone far too terrifying as your opponent."

After just a couple of seconds, the only thing left from the dragon's body was black mist. Like a whirlpool, it violently gathered towards Hex's black and wrinkly hand.

Despite the large amount of black mist, it all disappeared as though Hex's hand was a black hole.

Hex giggled.

"All the same..."

In the middle of the city, at a luxurious watchtower, someone watched this scene unfold.

It was an old man. He was sitting in a well polished wooden chair. One of his eyes was closed while the other was open all the way. He had short grey hair and a modest beard. While his hair made his old age clear, there wasn't a single wrinkle on his face.

The old man was wearing a dark brown suit. While it screamed 'expensive', its design was very modest considering the fact it was one solid plain color. The only bit of color was a woven pattern of four black horns, forming a circle on the left side of his chest.

If one dyed the man's hair black, he would immediately look perhaps thirty years younger, just like a young man.

He would've looked like any normal old man if it wasn't for one small detail.

His opened eye was one solid color, yellow. A faint glow emitted from it, almost appearing holy.

There was a solemn expression on the old man's face.

"...The battle has concluded."

There was a young man next to him.

He had messy bright purple hair, as though he wanted the whole world to see him. One of his irises was hazelnut and looked the same as the average person's eye. However, his other iris was a bright piercing yellow while his pupil resembled a snake's eye.

He was wearing a white dress shirt that was unbuttoned at the top. The collar was wrinkly and stuck out awkwardly, showing how little care the young man put into wearing this outfit. He had three tattoos of a horn lined across his neck.

The young man carried a pair of oversized scissors, over a meter in length. He held it by the blade and casually rested the handle on his shoulder.

The scissors themselves were a bright purple, matching his hair. The tip was noticeably sharp, much sharper than what normal scissors would be. As for the handles, instead of having a circular shape, they were triangles.

He carried himself like a stereotypical teenager.

There was a cocky smile on the young man's face.

"Heh, it took Noctis long enough. Oddryl, do you think he can be pushed down the ranks? He did such a sloppy job after all."

The old man, or Oddryl, sighed.

"Well, your rank will rise, that's for sure, Talon."

The young man, or Talon, raised an eyebrow.

"Huh? Since when did you listen to me, Oddryl?"

Oddryl let out a singular dry chuckle.

"One of the twenty-five giants, Noctis, has fallen."

Talon was speechless for a moment.

"What, seriously? You have to be joking, right?"

Oddryl slowly shook his head.

"I wish I was joking. Not to mention, you know I wouldn't joke about something like this."

Talon threw his head back and sighed.

"I told that loser he shouldn't be so scared to take some of Yzan's power. Look at what happened to him now."

Oddryl furrowed his brows.

"Your complaint would be valid if it wasn't for the fact he had drawn upon as much as he could."

Talon froze.

"...For real?"

Oddryl tapped his finger against a polished wooden table.

"Yes. He directly gave up control over his body so that Yzan himself could descend. Unfortunately, that was not enough."

Talon stuck his head forward, straining his neck.

"What? But I've never seen someone hurt Noctis when Yzan was the one controlling him."

Oddryl clenched his fists.

"If the situation wasn't bad enough, he was killed in a single strike."

Talon's demeanor changed after hearing that. He became deathly serious.

"...How so?"

Oddryl pressed his forefinger against his temple.

"There was a little boy wearing a hooded sweatshirt a few sizes too big. Although the battle seemed to be within Yzan's grasp, something changed."

His eyes narrowed.

"Yzan appeared to be... afraid. So afraid that he couldn't even remain flying."

Talon raised an eyebrow.

"Afraid? But he's just a projection, right? The worst thing on his side would be his personal slave dying."

Oddryl put his elbows on the table and interlaced his hands, holding them in front of his mouth.

"That is why I believe this is the work of 'him'..."

Talon blinked a few times.

"You're not thinking of that codger, right? He died like, a century ago."

Oddryl laughed bitterly.

"It is far too easy for someone like him to fake his demise and take on a new form. Else why would he be called The Harbinger of Death?"

Talon clicked his tongue.

"What the hell could he possibly want from us? Aren't we fucked if he wants to mess this city up?"

Oddryl's tone dropped.

"We will suppress the news. If it's him, he probably had some odd objective but got caught up in the conflict with the guards in the process."

Oddryl's eyes narrowed.

"I will keep watch. That man shouldn't push The Obrad Empire too far."

Talon shrugged his shoulders.

"Sounds fine to me. But what if he just does whatever he wants?"

Oddryl smirked.

"He wouldn't dare."

Talon gave Oddryl a strange look.

"What gives you that confidence?"

Oddryl laughed.

"Don't you remember?"

Talon's expression became dull, lost in thought. A few seconds later, he gasped, smacking his free hand onto his forehead.

"Ah, right! That thing. Can't believe it actually slipped my mind."

Oddryl slowly nodded.

"Someone of his caliber would surely know about it."

Oddryl stood up from his chair.

"Therefore, he knows the consequences of overstepping his bounds."