Crownless Consort-Chapter 41 - : Blood on the Air

They had been drawn to the edge of the ravine, yellow clashing against red in the sea of mud and blood. At the farthest side of the battle, Farsa had commanded several Priests to light their torches.

Ashburn had performed his part of the battle plot perfectly!

Eshent dragged the jian out of its sheathe as he fell to the mud, the rotted worm writhing in agony behind him as it tried to cope with its new-found head wounds. He had crashed too hard, he wasn't used to piloting such creatures. But there was nothing to grieve, he did not feel for its plight, no matter how much it shrieked and cried out.

It was only a worm.

He glanced down at the blade in his hands. The black-steel jian he had found in the armoury was right next to the set of armour he had designated for Ashburn's use. After all, unlike the blade, he had no use for armour that was twice his size. But this...

Its makeup was strange. If he intended to use it as a normal blade, it functioned quite wonderfully. The mystical whir it made when it swung was enamouring, almost musical. But when he used a distinct and purposeful force in his motions, the blade seemingly fell away from its normally-rigid structure. It became serpentine and flexible, extending tens of times in length as it whipped forward.

If only he were more competent... he would be quite a threat at both close and mid-range...

Eshent suddenly caught a flash of rouge in the corner of his vision. He blocked a silver strike by raising his blade, but only caught it with the edge. It continued to streak past him, slicing deep into his temple. Blood streaked down his cheek as he gazed at the quickly-approaching Reaper ahead.

Is this all I can do...?

Eshent whipped the black blade forward, its flexible edge wrapping around the neck of the Reaper. He grimaced, pulling backwards.

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Sh-t! God damn it!

It was the flat of the blade that touched against the Reaper's neck. He couldn't slice through!

Realising this, the Reaper's gaze steeled as he dashed forward, flipping the knife tucked in his waistband into his other hand before grasping at Eshent's hair, poising it afront his face.

Eshent grasped the blade that hurtled towards him as the two toppled to the ground, the Reaper straddling Eshent as he tried to push his knife downwards. It cut into the flesh of his palms, blood trickling down onto his cheeks.

His blade- it had fallen, now lying several feet away!

Eshent let out an exasperated grunt, his feet trying to gain any traction in the slippery mud below.

Eshent kicked upwards towards the Reaper's crotch, which caused him to reel back as he let out a pained shout. He grabbed the black-steel jian beside him, quickly and emphatically dragging it along his attacker's throat. Blood sprayed from the wound, coating Eshent in crimson.

The Reaper fell to the ground, choking sounds robbing the silence of war as his eyes slowly began to gloss over, freeing Eshent from the strangling sensation of his weight.

He let out a gasp, pain radiating in his hands and chest. He was far too out of his depth, and although the Lord's pacification spared him of his anxieties, he couldn't help but feel out of place in this war, which was a worthy enough substitute for fear. After all, fear was often the feeling of being small, and that was exactly what Eshent felt.

Eshent stared up at the sky as the battle raged around him, grimacing.

That guy almost killed me, all because I was foolish! Untrained! If he hadn't regenerated the lower half of his body...

Is this something I'm really prepared for? Where did I even derive my motivation from- that I was devoid of anything else? I can't skirt forward on hollow ideals, I just killed a man and felt nothing at all! I'm fine with not being human, I can even be this abomination that was thrown to this depth of despair! I can even serve this Lord, do as he wishes, be a Visionary, and work towards what he has shown me! But... what do I want...?

Eshent stood up, grasping at the cloak of a running Reaper before thrusting the black-steel jian through his throat. The Reaper unceremoniously toppled to the ground in a heap, but Eshent paid it no mind, glancing forward towards the bloody battle.

I want to kill everyone responsible for Masha and Corrin's deaths... I want to topple everything that put us into this situation in the first place!

A Reaper ran at him with a curdling cry, raising his blade to slash at Eshent, but the yellow-and-crimson cloaked Priest was quicker to react. He felt as if his whole body had entered another gear, like he could anticipate much more than he could see. He felt at the top of his game, as feeble as it was.

I want revenge! I want retribution!

Eshent spun around, the momentum carrying into the whip-like blade as the point shot out at the Reaper, catching him in the head. A section of his cheek was torn away, revealing the muscle and bone mass underneath. The blade quickly reeled back as Eshent pulled away, catching the back of the Reaper's head and wrapping around it.

This time, it did not catch on the flat of his blade, and the Reaper fell to the ground in several pieces.

I'm going to take over the Summerrich family! I'm going to take over everything!

—-

When was the last time we had a battle like this... no, when was the last time we had a feast like this...?

Gardner cut into the flesh of an approaching Priest, throwing him to the side as he went for the next. He bit into the neck of a yellow-cloaked woman, tearing away a bit of flesh before tossing her to the side in a heap, chewing on the mouthful as he ran forward. Whatever injuries he had suffered gradually renewed themselves, this was simply the boon of their Lord.

He was gradually working his way towards the towering behemoth in black armour, he desperately wanted to fight this figure!

However, no matter how many of the yellow-cloaked freaks he cut through, there was no end to them! It seemed that the land had become a sea of gold.

More than that, they were being actively pushed back! Many of the Priests had adopted shields, forming a line in front of the Reds! He glanced back and forth, looking towards Marres, who was just down the line, engaged in battle with several Priests.

Do they intend to push us in? Surely, they could trap us that way. Instead of fighting us, they wish to make sure they don't have to deal with us at all? But they don't know who hides amongst us. Someone could have the ability to deliver us from its depths. Whoever their leader is must have considered this... that armoured figure who keeps shouting... maybe it is him... but he seems too endowed with brawn. Too violent, too mindless... who, then?

He didn't feel fear at the thought of being tossed into the vast depths of the ravine, in fact, he didn't feel much at all. Pain had become lesser, so had the feelings of anxiety and despair. One simply... got used to them.

He only cared about the several questions that had arisen from the sudden battle. There were just too many things that were strange about it. Considering what he had been tasked with, he had to think about all sorts of things in order to protect the Lord's son. They could not let Anor Ligrisia be taken, not that there was much fear of that.

After all, he did not feel fear.

That God of Yellow... what does he really want here? Is he really after the Lord? But wasn't he an ally of Tristinis? When did they have a falling-out? This is the one thing I can't truly comprehend...

He pivoted his waist, slashing in a horizontal arc as several heads were taken clean off of their shoulders.

But I follow the will of my Lord, no matter what transpires...

Gardner's eyes suddenly widened. It felt like his entire body had been plunged into ice. He felt the wind grow silent, and the cries of war cease. He could smell the hot iron tang of blood in the air.

"Oh, Reaper!" A voice suddenly called out from above.

As Gardner glanced up, he instinctively raised his cleaver, blocking the strike that sought his neck. Sparks flew through the air, flakes of metal carved away from the cleaver's edge as he pushed back against the force of his attacker.

He saw a pair of eyes, calculating yellow eyes, drowned in the blood of war.

And he suddenly realised who was responsible for this plot.

The young Priest!