Chapter 107 Rohak
Chapter One Hundred Seven
Rohak
Hours had passed since the fire had lit the night sky, illuminating our enemy, standing only feet from us.
Hours of letting my mind numb into the repetitive cadence that came with battle: thrust—parry—dodge.
Over and over, I let my muscles dictate the course of the day rather than my mind. For if I thought too hard, delved too deeply, I’d be wracked with grief and distracted by the fact that I left Faylinn in Vespera.
Left her to die at Sasori’s hands.
The fact I was still breathing, the Bond still pulsing in my chest, meant she was still safe, still alive.
For now. My arm momentarily faltered at the unwanted reminder.
My opponent—a lithe and rather quick woman who was nearly half my age—saw the opening, her eyes gleaming with early victory. There was nothing I could do, no move I could make to block the strike that I knew was imminent.
I turned at the last possible second.
Her blade reached across and skewered me, pressing deep into my shoulder rather than my heart, where it was aimed seconds before.
Murderous frustration gnarled her features as her mouth pulled back into a sharp snarl. She wrenched the blade free from my muscle, the burn of the exit far more debilitating than the entry.
I cried out, tired muscles seizing and failing as I collapsed.
Wasting no time, the woman gripped her sword in both hands and stepped closer, raising it above her head for the killing blow.
I love you, Faylinn, I said down the Bond before shutting it completely. I didn’t want her final moments to be plagued by my agony, caused by my own stupidity.
“Oh no, you don’t!” A cry came from behind me just as the strongest, hottest blast of Fire Magic I’d ever felt coursed over my head, singeing the top of my hair.
I fell back on my ass and looked on with wide eyes as my assailant was engulfed completely, her body instantly turning to ash as her sword fell to the ground in a twisted, melted mess.
The Fire Magic cut off suddenly, the scent of ash and singed flesh nearly causing me to gag as I turned cautiously over my shoulder.
There stood Art and Gene, the former holding a metal rod in his hands. Looks of awed pride washed over both their faces as Gene knelt to help me to my feet. His glasses were fogged and covered in soot, but I could see the gleam of victory, nonetheless.
“We did it, General!” he exclaimed gleefully, gesturing to the item in Art’s hands. “Behold! Charise!”
I coughed a surprised laugh, but Art’s suddenly wide-eyed expression cut it completely.
“Gene, General, duck!” he shouted, voice breaking as he sent another blast of Fire Magic over my head.
I hit the ground just in time, blood and muck covering my face and hands, but Gene wasn’t so lucky.
I lifted my head to see a volley of fire returned at Art and Gene, Gene stepping in front of his friend at the last second and taking the strike in the face. Art’s expression sagged as he watched his friend’s head incinerate.
Gene’s body fell to the ground, splattering me further, as Art’s broken cry echoed through the battlefield.
“Gene! Gene, NO! NO,” Art lamented, his arms dropping and palms opening as he fell to his knees. Charise thunked into the soft mud as Art moaned and cried over the loss of his friend.
A deep, throaty, mirthless laugh rose above Art’s soft cries and whines, freezing him in place. I watched as Art’s hands clenched against Gene’s body, his red, tear-streaked face pulled into a murderous snarl.
Chills ran down my arms as Art pushed shakily to his feet before reaching down to where Charise was stuck in the ground.
The sounds of battle raged around us, but I could do nothing more than watch the eccentric Mage. His rage was enticing, enrapturing.
“You,” Art hissed, raising Charise with surprisingly calm hands in the direction of the Mage who killed Gene.
With a battle cry fit for the warriors of old, Art charged forward, Charise brandished in his hands, as he let loose short blasts of Fire Magic, incinerating everything in his path.
My gut clenched as he disappeared from sight, the sounds of death and battle overwhelming once more.
I pushed to my knees and patted Gene’s chest once, silently thanking him for saving my life.
How many more will it take before this is over? How many more needless deaths?
My muscles groaned and arms shook as I clutched my sword in my bloodied and sweaty palm once more.
We needed to end this—and soon.