Center of the Deadlands: 936, December 31st, Monday, 7:30 AM.
“He’ll be fine, Tori.” Claire told the young medic, as they both sit in the back of the armored truck in their way out of the hellish zone.
Having been saved from King by Loki, Bloodhound resumed their retreat in an attempt to regroup with the rest of Cerberus’ units, which they hoped remain stationed somewhere nearby. With just enough fuel to make it back to camp, a damaged vehicle that could fail at any moment, and worn-out bodies after hours of stress and less than ideal sleep, their spirits had dropped significantly throughout the progression of the day.
Tori stared into the distance towards the vast empty lands shrouded by fog, both legs crossed with her hands resting on top of her knees. “Are you sure? I feel like I could’ve done more…” she replied to the lieutenant—who raised an eyebrow at the sulking girl’s attitude.
“I never thought you’d care that much,” she expressed with genuine curiosity. “You do know he almost killed me once, right?”
“Ah? Well… I just wanted to help… I hate seeing someone injured. They are fighting for their lives, and I just feel like I should do something. It’s part of why I joined Cerberus.”
Offering a warm smile to the girl, Claire gently patted her red hair as if she was her little sister—easing the burden on Tori’s shoulders. “I’m sure he’ll be fine,” she told her. “I fought him once. He is…” a frown formed in the lieutenant’s face. “Really strong…”
“Oh!” Tori’s eyes suddenly perked up, directing her gaze towards the woman next to her. “Lieutenant, I how could I forget?”
“What?”
“You must be injured too…”
Her words caused the lieutenant to move one hand towards her injured shoulder, as it was only after their escape that her body awoken to the pain that surged through it. She hid it well once the situation called for action, but at that moment of peace and quiet, her mind could not escape from the sharp sensation in her shoulder—crawling all over her like a twisting knife. She could still feel the fingers of the daemon tear through her flesh, and while she had avoided death thanks to the spectral gear, his most recent strike against her had left her nerves quite shaken.
“It’s… don’t worry… I can still fight if it comes to it.”
“It’s fine, lieutenant.” Tori reassured her. “I still have the kit that m-Loki… refused.” She smiled, an innocent gesture that almost brightened the darkest corners of the Deadlands as she held the small box in hand. “I know it feels like I don’t belong sometimes… but let me be of help this time, lieutenant.”
Having no heart to refuse her request, Claire released an exasperated sigh before chuckling at her words—accepting that her wounds went beyond what she was willing to reveal in the surface. “Thank you, Tori… let me take my—”
In the blink of an eye, as if time itself had stopped for all present in the area, the ground shook with a violent tremor that had launched their transport into the air. A small gasp escaped the pair, as a sense of dread pierced their hearts while their bodies were launched away from the truck. The lieutenant stretched her arm towards Tori, but failed to snatch the girl from the air despite her best efforts.
“Tori!” Claire shouted her name with distress, though before long, her back hit the ground next to the derailing vehicle in a violent fall. She rolled off into safety, and her pupils constricted at the horrific sight before them. “Scott, Eric!” she yelled, fearing the worst for the two men inside the truck.
The lieutenant’s heart almost throbbed out of her chest with worry, yet her concern for Bloodhound had to wait its turn, as a giant foot suddenly stomped the dirt in front of her—kicking up dust into her face. She crossed both arms close to her chest before rolling away, stopping herself on one knee to settle her eyes on the bestial daemon in front of her.
Her eyes widened, and a gasp almost escaped her by the sheer shock of looking into his crimson eyes. It hadn’t been long since they left him and Loki behind, yet the giant stood before them once again. The hole that the gladean knight had ripped through his chest still remained, and though the pain that afflicted him could not be hidden behind his pale expression, fending off such powerful opponent seemed nearly impossible to the young lieutenant.
A stomp after the other, the giant approached Claire with cautious steps—a drop of sweat rolling down brow. “Now only you… remain…” he muttered.
“Tch!” looking at her surroundings, the lieutenant was quick to spot Tori in the distance—alive, but recovering from the abrupt fall. Further behind her, Scott limped away from the burning armored vehicle, almost collapsing by the weight of Eric’s body on his shoulders. “Haah…” Claire sighed with relief, picking herself up before materializing her pistols in both hands.
“Ngh…” King tried his best to hide his pain, yet the struggle only caused his torment to surface even more. “What… is the meaning… of this?” he growled silently.
He stared deeply into Claire’s ambers, failing to detect anything particular about the common girl. As a daemon that had resisted the corruption of his pathway, thanks to the many sacrifices of both humans and knights, King could feel, see, and hear the call of the god among the crimson fog of the Deadlands. The trail of the deceased man’s ashes was clear in his eyes, lurking all around the battlefield, but splitting in two separate directions once coming in contact with the woman.
She did not carry the god’s heart, neither did she possess any sort of special abilities, yet her nearly impregnable will against the spectral gear was more than evident. For the longest time, he had shrugged them off as mere tools of war, mere replicas of the two other pieces carried by the man known as Sebastian. His mind became a cluttered mess, an effect of his injuries combined with the lack of energy supplied by Paradise’s statue.
“…” The gigantic sword in hand—radiating an intense glow from its blade of pure azure, he readied himself to battle, and eliminate the last opposing foe in his path to a new world.
“Where is Loki?” Claire asked while pointed one of her pistols at him—aiming directly between his eyes.
“The champion has fulfilled his duty…” replied King. “He rests in the warm embrace of our goddess… where his name will be remembered by all for eternity.”
“You…” the lieutenant lowered her brows and crinkled her nose, snarling with disgust at the preaching words of the daemon. “Dammit… but I left him there too…” she thought, thinking about the horned demon that always answered to her call. “He couldn’t have…”
“Allow me to extend to you… a generous offer.” King suggested, a surprise turn of events that made Claire flinch with surprise. “You and I fight for the same goal, girl…”
“You are delusional…”
“Do you not wish to see the end of this conflict?” he asked her, reading even the slightest movements from his opponent as he spoke. “With the death of my champion… I am afraid that I alone... am the only one that can stop his reign over our world… permanently.”
“…”
“This sword I carry bears proof of my words,” he continued. “The pure azure steel that only the one chosen by Gladea used to wield… she has chosen me now… to carry her will, and defeat Specter in her name. Hand over your weapons, and you shall witness the end of the god with your own eyes.”
Claire’s body shook, all the concern and worry that dominated her every thought replaced with boiling anger. She gritted her teeth, peering holes in the giant’s face with an intimidating glare. “You are a monster… if you think I’d fall for your lies…”
“I speak only the truth… someone like you could never comprehend the severity of this situation. Humans are, after all… afraid of what they don’t understand. They choose comfort… comfort that we knights had always offer. That is our purpose, to bring peace to humanity… by any means necessary. Surrender your weapons, and allow me to bring that comfort to every living creature that pleads for a better wor—”
Unable to listen to the daemon’s ramblings any longer, in a bold move that took even him by surprise, Claire planted a blazing bullet straight into his forehead to force the giant’s mouth shut. She glared daggers at her foe, and while busy staring into the raising smoke from his forehead, a memory suddenly crossed her mind.
The sounds of her pistols drowned the voice of a young man that spoke to her from nearby, his smug and confident tone irritating her mind beyond words. She could not concentrate, and one of her arms trembled almost uncontrollably—out of practice, and unable to forget the pain caused to by the giant.
“A daemon?” her own voice echoed in her head, followed the man that accompanied her during training.
“That’s what knights called their own kind once they became specters. It’s a long story, though I’m sure you know already of it.”
“Aren’t they supposed to be impossible to kill? If what you say is true…”
“Well… the champion you gawk about all the time killed one of them. Perhaps even more, I don’t really know for sure…”
“Really! Ahem… why tell me this?”
“King is a daemon, Lionheart.”
“Ah… wha… I thought…”
“He was a knight? Kind of… but now that you’ve seen him, there is something I need you to do for me. If it isn’t much to ask, of course.”
“What?”
“I want you to kill him.”
“You… are you out of your mind? Isn’t this something a knight like Ninigi should be informed of?”
“Oh, he knows… but him and I don’t really look in the eye. I know you may be scared of facing him aga—”
“I’m not… Grr…”
“What are you ashamed of? He is way stronger than anything you’ve faced before… he is not someone I wanted you to meet just yet either. However, this is where we are now, and if someone can do it… I know it’s you.”
“Why? You really think…”
“Don’t be afraid, Lionheart. I’ve seen you in action more times than you realize, and though my memory is weak… I just know that there is something only you can do about this.”
“I think you’ve gone insane…”
“Well, might as well prepare, right? Come to my office at midnight, I want you to see something.”
“Has fear finally broken your mind, girl?” King announced, his voice snapping Claire back into the battlefield. The smoldering bullet incrusted in his forehead vanished into particles of light, leaving only a tiny scratch in the giant’s tough skin. “Your weapons may be capable of bringing down the beasts, but they will not aid you against me. I offer you a second chance… surrender your equipment to me… or I will be the end of you and your little group…”
The rough and aggressive tone of the daemon brought Claire to a pause—her face drenched in sweat as she struggled to device a functioning course of action. Her body was reaching its limit, and the spectral gear could barely keep up with King last time they fought. Every corner of her mind was filled with doubts and impossible scenarios, as none revealed an ideal way to come out victorious from the encounter. However, with a confident light that illuminated her face, the azure ring wrapped around the lieutenant’s finger announced its decision before the girl.
“Uh?” she looked into its confident glow, one that suppress every doubt that threatened to dominate her heart and mind. Claire huffed through purse lips, and with a determined gaze that met the daemon’s crimson eyes, she gave her guns a quick spin before turning their sights straight towards her target. “Keep dreaming, King…” she offered her answer. “You are a daemon… You can’t stop anything even if you wanted to. We’ll find a way without your order… You… are no knight.”
Ready to engage, Claire took one last glance at her team before the inevitable battle commenced. Despite their injuries, Bloodhound stood ready to assist in any way they could possibly think of. Tori prepared her taser, Scott his rifle, and a reawakened Eric the elegant sword that represented his house. Though mere humans in the eyes of the powerful daemon, his willingness to negotiate for the spectral gear brought Claire to a single conclusion, one that would be proven right or wrong at the end of their encounter.
END OF CHAPTER
