LIGHTNOVELWORLD Chapter 65: Syladria
Suddenly, Elizabeth's wrath boiled over completely. With a snarl, she wrenched the communicator free and smashed it into oblivion. Marlborough flinched violently as she drew her bolt pistol and emptied rounds into the shattered remains. The deafening thunder of bolts discharging tore through the room, pulverizing both the equipment and the wall behind it.
Nearby guards scrambled, ducking for cover or cautiously peeking around corners. Fear rippled through the ranks; none wished to draw the Inquisitor's attention. The Sisters of Battle, however, remained unfazed, sparing little more than a glance before resuming their work with the discipline of the faithful. Marlborough, still in his seat, felt like prey trapped before a predator. Summoning his courage, he stammered, "Uh… ma'am… is everything—uh—alright?"
Elizabeth's glare could have melted steel. "Nothing's wrong. The plan has changed. Order the stormtroopers to stand down and await further commands."
"Yes, ma'am! Right away!" Marlborough practically sprang from his chair, eager to escape the suffocating tension. "Do you require replacement vox units?"
Elizabeth holstered her pistol and dusted off her scorched coat. "Obviously. Have it replaced immediately."
"Understood, ma'am. I'll see to it." Marlborough fled with haste, barking orders to the stunned soldiers outside, relieved to leave the furious Inquisitor behind.
Elizabeth folded her arms, her anger still simmering as she muttered to herself, her thoughts lost in quiet fury. The sound of crumbling plaster was the only noise that remained.
From the shadows, nervous guards exchanged glances. They had seen war. They had faced monsters. But the wrath of an Inquisitor was something else entirely. One young recruit whispered, "Remind me never to get on her bad side."
A grim-faced veteran beside him didn't look away. "If you do, you won't live to regret it."
Time pased on, Kayvaan had been tracking his target for three days. Through the scope of his sniper rifle, he patiently observed the Eldar rangers from a safe distance. His meticulous surveillance continued for another three days, and yet he had gained little more than an understanding of the brutal game unfolding before him.
The jungle was alive with silent battles, quiet deaths. The Eldar moved like phantoms, their movements elegant and deadly. Kayvaan's scope revealed a small team of rangers led by a single leader, totaling four individuals in his line of sight. Judging by their coordination, there were likely at least two such teams—twelve rangers in total. Three days ago, there had been sixteen.
In that time, five Eldar rangers had fallen, their lifeless bodies marked by the precision of energy arrow wounds. The battlefield bore no signs of crude human weaponry—only the distinct marks of Eldar technology. This was a war fought in shadows, ranger against ranger, and the line between hunter and prey shifted constantly. From what Kayvaan could tell, the supposed pursuers were barely holding their own.
Lying motionless in the underbrush, Kayvaan's optical camouflage blended seamlessly with the jungle's greens and browns. His breathing was steady, his body still. He was a ghost in the foliage, watching, waiting.
Finally, he decided to act. Slipping the rifle onto his back, he began a slow and deliberate approach. Every step was calculated, every movement silent. With the aid of his advanced stealth equipment, he glided through the jungle like a wraith, unseen and unheard. He closed the distance until he was directly behind one of the Eldar. In an instant, he pounced, one hand clamping over her chin, tilting it upward. The other pressed the edge of a dagger against her throat. His voice was low, steady, but tinged with mockery. "Hello, Eldar. What's so special about me?"
The Eldar froze for a moment before replying, her voice lilting and musical, even in Gothic. "To sneak up on me like this... are you a human or a ghost?"
Kayvaan allowed the blade to press against her armor, the tip grazing her pale skin. "Flattering me now seems a bit late, don't you think?"
"If this is how we begin a conversation, then perhaps it's not too late," she answered smoothly. "Put away your blade, human. I invite you to talk with words, not weapons. If you wish to kill me, then do so. But if you seek understanding, then speak. Surely, you're not so foolish as to be unaware of who your true enemy is?"
Kayvaan hesitated but eventually withdrew his dagger. "I'll admit, I don't really know who the enemy is. To me, all Eldar look the same—fragile, like bean sprouts. You probably don't know what bean sprouts are, but they're delicate plants that snap with the slightest pressure. Now, tell me, oh mighty bean sprout, what do you want to talk about?"
The Eldar turned to face him, removing her helmet with deliberate grace. Her face was breathtaking—smooth, pale skin, light blue eyes as clear as a mountain lake, and long platinum hair cascading past her shoulders. Her lips, a delicate shade of red, curled into a faint smile. Were it not for her slightly pointed ears, Kayvaan might have mistaken her for a mere human. "I am Syladria Sha'eillanis," she announced, her voice carrying an air of ethereal grace and unmistakable authority. "And you, mon-keigh, could at least show some semblance of courtesy. Remove your helmet and let us speak face-to-face."
Kayvaan studied her closely. Her elegant Eldar armor hugged her form, accentuating her lithe figure. Her sniper rifle and sleek blade suggested anything but peace. She was both alluring and dangerous—a deadly flower blooming in the heart of the jungle. Shrugging off his hesitation, Kayvaan removed his helmet. "Fine. I'll admit, I've never seen an Eldar up close before. You look... very human."
Syladria's eyes sparkled with amusement as she tilted her head. "And you, human, look quite Eldar. I've never seen a warrior as fair or as handsome as you among your kind. If you were Eldar, perhaps we could even be friends." Her smile turned sharper. "But don't be mistaken. While your ancestors were still crawling from the primordial muck, we Eldar had already mastered the stars. Whatever similarities you see are mere accidents of evolution. We are not the same."
Kayvaan smirked, unbothered by her words. "I'm fine with that. Honestly, I've been called too pretty to be a warrior anyway. People mistake me for some kind of performer or ask how much I charge for—well, never mind that."
Syladria regarded Kayvaan with a mix of disdain and pity, her voice carrying an air of condescension. "Mon-keigh… barbaric and vulgar. War, killing, bloodshed, death—these are not mere acts of violence but forms of art. Beauty exists even in destruction. As a warrior, you shouldn't abandon the pursuit of beauty. Fighting may be your duty, but appreciating beauty speaks to your character and refinement."
"Is this why you pulled me out of the shadows?" Kayvaan asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Not entirely," Syladria replied, tilting her head slightly, her tone cold but deliberate. "I wanted to tell you who your real enemy is."
"Please enlighten me."