Cross and Conflicts

CHAPTER XLII: Enigma of Power

After breakfast, Noumenon found herself alone in her room, lost in thought as she listened to the gentle sound of rain drizzling against the windowpane. The events of the previous night weighed heavily on her mind, and she couldn't shake the image of Cross, his eyes gleaming red, his presence both terrifying and mesmerizing. She marveled at the supernatural aptitude he possessed, the power that seemed to flow through him effortlessly. How could someone have such extraordinary abilities? What was the source of his strength?

Due to the severity of her injuries, Cross had decided to postpone their training for a few days to allow her to recover. This unexpected respite gave her time to reflect on the incredible events that had transpired and the path she had chosen.

Her thoughts drifted back to the confrontation, the way he had moved with such fluid grace and precision, the objects flying as if obeying his every command. It was as if he were a force of nature, unstoppable and unyielding. She couldn't help but feel a mix of awe and fear, a deep respect for the power he wielded and a lingering terror at what that power could do.

She touched the bruises on her neck, the marks left by his hand a stark reminder of how close she had come to death. The memory of his grip, cold and unyielding, sent a shiver down her spine. She had felt her life slipping away, the world growing dark around her, and in that moment, she had been certain that she would die. Yet, here she was, alive and breathing, her heart pounding in her chest.

It was her first time to meet someone like him. Someone who possessed such talents and capabilities beyond normal human capacity. Now, she realized that he wasn’t the only one. Was it endowed by God himself or was it the demon? She was apparently curious. Since she ventured outside the walls of the monastery where she had lived for the previous several years of her life, she has then been introduced to the wonders of this complex world.

The days passed slowly, each one blending into the next. The mansion felt lonesome and eerie, the absence of Cross only adding to the mystery. Yet, Noumenon was already accustomed to isolation due to her training as a novice at St. Catherine Monastery. The solitude was familiar, and she found herself almost comforted by it. She rarely left her room, as advised, only coming out when Doctor Dunong asked for her help with the meals. The doctor was kind and attentive, and while his presence was a welcome distraction, it couldn’t entirely dispel the sense of stillness that permeated the mansion.

The nights were the worst. The mansion seemed to take on a life of its own, the creaks and groans of the old structure amplified by the silence. She found herself lying awake, staring at the ceiling, her mind racing with thoughts of Cross and the power he wielded. The memory of his red eyes and the objects flying haunted her dreams, turning them into restless nightmares.

One night, as she lay in bed, she felt the familiar vibrations again. The tremors were faint but unmistakable, a subtle reminder of the power that lay just beyond her reach. She knew what it meant—Cross was struggling once more. The memory of her previous encounter with him, the sheer terror of almost dying by his hands, was still fresh in her mind.

Her heart raced, and she found herself torn between curiosity and fear. Part of her wanted to go and see for herself what was happening, to understand the source of his power and the darkness that consumed him. But the other part of her, the part that remembered the cold grip of his hand around her throat, urged her to stay put, to avoid the danger.

In the end, fear won out. She remained in her room, gripping the edges of her blanket tightly, and closed her eyes, praying for the tremors to stop. She couldn’t bear the thought of facing him in that state again, of coming so close to death.

Blag! Blag! Blag!

It was dawn with the sun barely peeking over the horizon, She was abruptly awakened by a series of hard knocks on her door. The sound reverberated through the room, jolting her from sleep. Her heart pounded as she quickly sat up, disoriented and unsure of what to expect.

Noumenon swung her legs over the side of the bed and took a deep breath before moving to open the door. Standing there, his expression impassive and his presence commanding, was Cross. He was dressed in his usual dark attire, his blue eyes fixed intently on her.

"Get dressed," he said curtly, his voice firm and unyielding. "We're going for an early jog."

Blinking away the remnants of sleep, she subtly nodded but then found herself momentarily puzzled about what to wear. Before she could voice her confusion, he reached into a nearby drawer and tossed her a pair of running shoes and a set of workout clothes.

"These should fit you," he said curtly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

She caught the clothes and nodded, quickly pulling them on. She sensed the urgency in his demeanor and didn't want to keep him waiting. The clothes were a perfect fit, and the running shoes felt comfortable on her feet. Within minutes, she was ready and stepped out of her room, following him down the dimly lit hallway.

The mansion was shrouded in a quiet stillness, the only sounds being the faint patter of their footsteps and the distant chirping of birds greeting the dawn. As they stepped outside, the cool morning air brushed against her skin, refreshing and invigorating. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a soft, golden glow over the landscape.

They set off at a brisk pace, him leading the way. The path wound through the grounds of the mansion, the trees casting long shadows in the early light.

Noumenon focused on her breathing, matching his stride as best as she could. The physical exertion was a welcome distraction from the thoughts that had plagued her during her time of rest.

"Why an early jog? Haa! Haa!" she asked, her breath coming in an unsteady rhythm as they ran, as expected of someone who’s used to an inactive routine.

"To build endurance," he replied, his tone matter of fact. "You need to strengthen your body and mind. An early jog is a good way to start the day."

She nodded, understanding the importance of physical conditioning. As they ran, she found herself pushing past the fatigue, her body gradually adjusting to the pace. The cool air filled her lungs, and she felt a renewed sense of determination.

The path took them through the sprawling gardens and into a small, wooded area. The ground was uneven, and she had to focus on her footing to avoid tripping on roots and rocks. He moved with an effortless grace, his movements fluid and precise. It was clear that he was in his element, and she admired his agility and control.

As they continued their jog, she couldn't help but steal glances at him. The memory of his red eyes and the power he wielded still lingered in her mind, but she was determined to understand him better, to learn from him, and to find her own strength.

Looking at him, at that moment, felt like being accompanied by a normal guy who had no penchant for killing. He was just a man who has pale skin, hair, and eyes due to a lack of melanin.

They eventually circled back to the mansion, their pace gradually slowing as they reached the front entrance. She was breathing heavily, her muscles aching from the exertion, but she felt invigorated, ready to face the challenges ahead.

As they reached the front entrance of the mansion, Noumenon felt a sudden, powerful force lift her off the ground. Her heart raced as she was tossed into the air, her body spinning uncontrollably. The world around her became a blur, and she struggled to make sense of what was happening.

Before she could react, she was hurled towards the basement with a terrifying speed.

“Aaaaahhh!” she cried out.

The wind rushed past her ears, and she braced herself for the impact. She crashed through the basement door, the force of the collision sending splinters of wood flying in all directions. Her body hit the cold, hard floor with a bone-jarring thud, the pain radiating through her limbs.

“Ugh!”

Dazed and disoriented, she struggled to push herself up, her vision swimming. The dim light of the basement cast eerie shadows on the walls, and she could barely make out the figure of the vigilante standing over her, his expression unreadable.

Without warning, he pulled out a gun and aimed it at her. Her heart skipped a beat, and she instinctively rolled to the side just as he pulled the trigger.

Bang!

The sound of the gunshot echoed through the basement, the bullet narrowly missing her and embedding itself in the wall behind her. Her reflexes had saved her, but she knew she couldn't afford to let her guard down.

Bang!

Another shot rang out, and she scrambled to her feet, her body moving on pure instinct. She darted behind a pillar, using it as cover as she tried to catch her breath. The adrenaline coursing through her veins heightened her senses, and she could hear the faint click of the gun as he reloaded.

Bang! Bang!

Two more shots fired in quick succession, each one narrowly missing her as she moved from one pillar to the next. Her mind raced, trying to come up with a plan to escape this deadly game of cat and mouse.

Cross's voice cut through the tension, cold and unyielding. "You need to learn to anticipate and react. This is your training."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. This was training? Her life was on the line, and he was using live ammunition. The realization only fueled her fortitude to survive.

Bang!

Another shot, and she felt the rush of air as the bullet whizzed past her ear. She knew she couldn't stay hidden forever. It was clear what he wanted to have her do at that time: snatch the gun and stop him from taking shots at her.

She had to find a way to disarm him, to turn the tables in her favor.

Taking a deep breath, she waited for the next shot. As soon as she heard the bang, she sprang into action, darting out from behind the pillar and sprinting towards him. Her movements were swift and precise, her body reacting with a newfound agility.

Bang!

Cross fired again, but she was already in motion, her reflexes guiding her as she closed the distance between them. The sound of the gunshot echoed in her ears, but she didn't falter. Her heart pounded in her chest, adrenaline surging through her veins as she pushed herself to move faster.

She reached out, her fingers wrapping around his wrist with a vice-like grip. With a fierce determination, she twisted his wrist, using all her strength to disarm him. The gun clattered to the floor, the metallic sound reverberating through the basement. Without hesitation, she kicked it away, sending it skidding across the floor and out of reach.

Ksssshhhhhkkkkkkkkkkkkk!