The Butcher of Sargon (LoL x Arknight Fanfiction)

The vehicle sped across the desert.

Compared to the modified vehicles used by Garde and the Rhine Lab operatives when entering the Hotland, the ancient civilization's transport trucks were clearly better suited to the climate here. 

Of course, without the decryption technology provided by Kal'tsit, Garde and the others would've been stuck staring at the transport trucks, unable to do anything.

After destroying one of the factories, Garde learned from Scout that there were six other similar factories in the area. 

Although not all of these factories were likely to be reactivated, just the thought of fighting hard six or seven more times made Garde want to find a hole to bury himself in.

It was just too much!

After resolving the misunderstanding with Scout and the others, Garde, with their help, found a transport truck to load the injured Saria and Kal'tsit onboard. They then began to strategize for the upcoming battles.

Even though Saria and Kal'tsit were hurt, Scout's team of four were each as capable as the two of them. 

In the Tower of Babel, they were all considered top-level elites.

Especially Ascalon. If she hadn't run into Garde, she would have had the capability to single-handedly deal with one of the Mechanical Nightzmora Knights. 

But whenever she looked at Garde, her usually cool expression would immediately turn stormy, and the look in her eyes was as if she wanted to tear him to pieces.

Unfortunately for her, they were currently allies, and Ascalon couldn't defeat Garde. Moreover, as time passed and Garde's Ascension Power slowly recovered, she'd stand even less of a chance.

Due to poor communications in the desert, it would take a while for the other factories to learn that one of them had been destroyed. So, the team needed to destroy as many factories as possible in the shortest amount of time. 

Fortunately, with Scout's team on board, the difficulty of the mission had dropped significantly.

Out of the four in the team, aside from ACE, they were all skilled in stealth, particularly Misery, who could even bring others into fully sealed environments.

With barely any rest, they jumped back into the transport truck and headed straight for the next factory marked on the map. They reached it an hour and a half later.

This time, things went much more smoothly.

Leaving Scout and ACE to guard the injured Saria and Kal'tsit, Misery led Garde and Ascalon straight into the factory's central control hub. 

Misery possessed a type of Originium Art for material transference that could penetrate both rock and steel.

The near-space-bending properties of Misery's Originium Arts made Garde extremely envious. He tried to replicate it with his own Ascension Powers, but naturally, he failed. 

Once inside the control hub, the three were met by two Nightzmora Knights standing ready for battle. 

With full preparations, Garde and Ascalon each faced off against a Nightzmora Knight, while Misery held off the mechanical guards streaming into the control hub.

If Ascalon could completely restrain one of the Nightzmora Knights, Misery could have planted explosives directly on the central intelligence console. 

Unfortunately, although Ascalon could hold her own against the Nightzmora Knight, defeating it quickly was another story. 

If the Nightzmora Knight truly wanted to leave, Ascalon wouldn't be able to stop it. However, since the Nightzmora Knight couldn't just abandon the control terminal, it was locked in a fierce battle with Ascalon. 

From start to finish, it hadn't landed a single hit on her, while Ascalon had managed to carve deep cuts across its chest, nearly breaking through.

Turning her head, Ascalon heard a loud "bang."

Garde had taken the Nightzmora Knight's head off with one swipe of his claw.

"Need any help?" he asked.

"No!" Ascalon replied coldly.

But her strikes against the Nightzmora Knight became even fiercer. 

Previously, she had been avoiding its attacks, but now she didn't mind letting one or two graze her if it meant leaving another wound on the Nightzmora Knight.

Finally, when Ascalon was about to land the finishing blow, the crocodile man warrior in his trench coat swung his great axe, shattering the bones in the Nightzmora Knight's chest cavity.

Noticing Ascalon staring at him, Garde, without looking back, said, "What are you standing around for? Hurry up and run—we're about to explode here."

Ascalon clenched her dagger tightly, taking a deep breath. 

She would not stoop to the level of this Hotland barbarian.

The assault on the first factory had been tough, but this second one was finished in under ten minutes. Most importantly, with Misery's Originium Arts, infiltrating the factory control hubs had become much simpler.

In one final push, they destroyed yet another factory two hours later, but then they had to stop—because Misery was coughing up blood.

The continuous use of Originium Arts comes at a price, especially for infected like Misery. 

Every time he uses his Arts, it's akin to burning through his own life force. 

The Sarkaz, however, are almost all infected—over 90% of them—and they're accustomed to this life-or-death style of fighting.

It wasn't just Misery. After two intense battles, even Ascalon was feeling worn out. Dancing on the edge of a knife requires stamina, and with her fragile build, Garde could take her out in two hits—and so could a Nightzmora Knight. 

That's why she couldn't afford to take a single direct hit from one. 

A single blow could mean a broken arm; two hits would put her out of commission.

For Misery and Ascalon, these battles were grueling. But for Garde, they couldn't even be counted as a warm-up. After two consecutive fights, not only was he not tired, he was actually feeling more energized as his Ascension Power steadily returned.

Faced with regular Nightzmora Knights, Garde felt like he could take on ten of them at once! 

Physically, he was buzzing, but mentally, exhaustion was creeping up on him.

Controlling his Ascension Power took a lot out of him, as did reining in his own anger, so some fatigue was to be expected.

At night, with Scout and ACE taking first watch, the rest climbed into the truck to sleep. Misery dozed off in the passenger seat, Ascalon leaned against a corner of the cabin, glancing at her now chipped dagger before closing her eyes. 

Garde checked Saria's wounds; they didn't look too bad, and her breathing had grown steadier.

"Tired?" he asked.

"A little."

"Get some rest, then."

Kal'tsit exhaled a puff of white mist. 

Her injuries left her feeling weak; even with Mon3tr's protection, the chill of the night made her shiver. 

Garde, seated cross-legged in the cabin, reached out a hand.

"Want to borrow an arm? You look like you're about to freeze."

As a crocodile man, Garde's body temperature could adapt to the surrounding environment. But if he wanted, he could also keep it at a more comfortable level.

"No, thank you." Kal'tsit's tone was cold as she declined, her gaze moving over the others in the truck. 

Both Scout and ACE, as well as Misery, had packed extra clothing. Despite the frigid night, they wouldn't freeze. If need be, they could certainly lend Kal'tsit a layer. 

Yet, when they noticed Kal'tsit's glance, each of them quietly looked away, pulling their own clothing tighter, feigning an exaggerated fear of the cold.

Scout had secretly clued them in on Garde and Kal'tsit's "relationship." 

While they were all long-time bachelors, they knew well enough not to interfere. 

Clearly, Doctor Kal'tsit was just being shy!

How could they ruin the doctor's chance for a little "moment"?

The behavior of the three operatives made Kal'tsit's expression grow darker. 

She'd sensed something was off since sunset—Scout and the others were definitely hiding something from her. 

She finally turned to Ascalon, but seeing her companion's thin clothing—and remembering Garde had taken Ascalon's trench coat to use as shorts—she said nothing and leaned against the corner. 

She'd long since gotten used to enduring this kind of cold.

"Kal'tsit, are you really going to refuse my warm arm? If you catch a cold and worsen your injuries, it could slow down our mission." Garde reached out to pull her closer. Kal'tsit's face darkened as she opened her mouth to reprimand him.

Then Garde continued. "After all, Kal'tsit, you wouldn't want to get sick and delay us. If we fail to stop the revival of this ancient civilization in time, Terra could be destroyed, right?"

Garde's words hit Kal'tsit's weak spot, and his grip was firm as iron, giving her no room to pull away. 

In truth, Garde hadn't thought much of it—he just wanted to mess with Kal'tsit a bit and get an excuse to be close to her. 

He never seriously thought she might like him. 

A woman like her, with so many years behind her, wouldn't fall for some hot-headed kid, would she? 

After days of non-stop fighting, Garde finally got a moment to relax and soon fell asleep. Kal'tsit struggled at first but, realizing she couldn't break free from his grip, eventually gave up. 

Garde's body was, admittedly, much warmer than the corner, and he wasn't making any inappropriate moves. 

Exhaustion took over, and despite her initial resolve not to lean too close, Kal'tsit gradually drifted off with her head resting against Garde's chest.

In the front seat, Misery and ACE exchanged a knowing look and quietly gave a thumbs up. 

Outside, Scout, keeping watch from the roof, took another cookie from his pocket.

Through their later conversations, they'd learned that Garde wasn't a native of the Hotland but a Sargon. 

This piqued their interest. 

If Doctor Kal'tsit did end up with Garde, and they could recruit him to Babel, it would be a major boost.

In distant Kazdel, the Sarkaz royal courts didn't answer to them. 

Her Highness Theresa's authority only extended to discouraging them from interfering in the civil war between the two kings. 

But if Garde joined Babel, his strength alone could shift the balance of power.

For now, though, they respected Kal'tsit's choice. 

She'd sacrificed much for Kazdel in the past, so they wouldn't force her hand—they were simply pleased with how things were playing out. 

As long as Doctor Kal'tsit didn't end up being the one swept away, they were all for it.

As Scout's thoughts wandered on the truck's rooftop, the group inside slowly drifted off to sleep. 

Though some had already been asleep for quite a while and were just waking up.

After a long rest, her fatigue much reduced, Saria opened her eyes and glanced around.

Darkness surrounded her, with only a faint glimpse of her companions' silhouettes in the night.

Garde's tall figure nearby reassured her.

But soon, her sense of security faded.

Because next to her, Garde was holding someone in his arms.

That old woman named Kal'tsit!

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