Chapter 38 – The Knight of the Holy Grail
Aldrin didn't know that kissing a metal cage would feel so cold and maybe even wet.
"Ugh. Yuck!"
Pushing himself away from the thick metal block, the demigod accidentally tripped on a warm body that also made him land hard on his ass.
This was, automatically, followed by a series of embarrassing groans from the pair on the floor.
"Guys, what on Earth are you doing?" Dexter deadpanned, a dark eyebrow raised skeptically as he seemed to question the sanity of the pair.
Glaring at the oracle through his almost eyes, Aldrin tried to his best to stand up despite the warm, wiggling body underneath his still probably broken knee.
"Ow, Adam, what the fuck?" Aldrin groaned, his glaring pair of orbs moving away from his twin's best friend towards the Egyptian lying underneath his knees. Adam was wiggling uncomfortably under him, and it looked even weirder than the way he thought of it. And the demigod was sure it was traumatizing enough that he just kissed some wet, thick liquid on the metal earlier.
Apparently, he was wrong.
His sigh was just as loud enough as his frustrations were at his situation. And he knew it was useless to do such, but he wished someone from up there would save their hopeless asses from the miserable condition they were all under.
Maybe send them an angel or something,
Rolling his eyes at the thought, it was just oddly timed that when Aldrin opened up his eyes, the tip of his arrow earlier greeted him just a few inches away. It gleamed a color of pure gold even without sunlight, and was bright enough to shine a light towards whoever who held it—a girl with the same gleaming blonde hair that Aldrin thought at once were just pale.
Huh. Speaking of angels...
WAIT.
It was his turn to wiggle away from Adam, since the Egyptian was not doing a very good job at it and simply settled tiredly under Aldrin's knees. Doing so, he scrambled up quite embarrassingly right in front of the traitor with a glare Aldrin believed himself was quite piercing than hers. He even crossed his arms to give a harder effect.
The Valkyrie just greeted him with her trademark bitch face.
It was actually just Aleisha's blank stare, but Aldrin took it upon himself just now to call it her bitch face. It just fit.
They held an eye contest on who would look away first, before Aleisha scoffed and rolled her eyes, her clenched hands moving to her hips before it inclined slightly to side.
Yes, he won.
But he couldn't deny how hot the girl looked, though. Despite being with her during most of his missions, he never noticed how feminine Aleisha can be when she wanted to be. She always had the aura of the tomboy type, even if her complexion, eyes, and her skin tight black suit would try to say otherwise.
"Don't do a victory dance, Jenkins," Aleisha replied, her perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised, taunting. She shoved the disregarded arrow on Aldrin's crossed arms, leaving it for the demigod to catch. "And stop pouting. It's not exactly attractive."
The arrow was left on his right hand for him to clench. He was so not pouting.
"Well, what do you want me to do with this?" Aldrin asked, frowning, his tone also quite defiant.
YOU ARE READING
Descendants of the Myth
Fantasy"We aren't just empowered freaks. We are soldiers for war." Our world isn't alone, it never was in the first place. It is in a twisted reality that the ancient gods themselves forged. But as the multiverse gets darker, it begins to threaten the bal...
