37 When This Bloody War Is Over

A fool points a musket towards the back of a beast. Despite the dreaded symphony of war raging around me, the clack of his weapon transitioning from half-cocked to full, breaks through the grunting, screaming and crying of the battlefield. The man raises the firearm, aligns the sight to his right eye, and fires. With a monstrous, red hand, the corpulent ravager the man had just shot scratches its head. Slowly, the beast turns. Looking down on the fool from above, streams of saliva flows from its mouth. The beast steps towards the condemned. Ripples pulsate through its bloated form with its every movement. Its jouncing stomach and jiggling chest, if taken in isolation, would be a humorous sight to behold; however, the harrowing knowledge of what is to follow dampens all embers of levity within me.

Falling to his tail, the man looks up at his executioner. He stretches his hands out in front of his face; his screams join the chorus of terror composed by the men and women being slaughtered in every direction. From the beast's mouth, drool falls, It drenches the head of the man on the ground. Crying, and screaming, and begging who he can, and begging what he can, the fool claws the bulging, red hand that has him locked in its grip. His eyes meet with mine. Wide, and moistened, they issue his plea for help.

'I don't want to die!' The fool shouts. 'Boy, boy! I have a wife. I have a child. I can't die! I can't die!' The beast lifts him further from the ground. 'I'm begging you! Don't just stand there! Don't just watch! I'm a human being! I'm a human being! Look at me! I'm a human being!' His continued declarations of humanity fall upon deaf ears. I watch as the man enters the mouth of his predator, and as the monster bites down, showering the black grass below with the blood of its feast.

He was a fool right to the end...

Whether it be duty or compulsion that had led him to this battlefield, a rank-one Tension Master had no business here. Of the beasts I have seen, not one can be harmed without the use of Arts.

Cannon fodder.

In this war, the man's life could only ever amount to cannon fodder. He should have known that from the start, duty, be damned. To save a man such as him could only be described as a waste of time. Whether he died by the ravager, or he died by any of the other monstrosities infesting the region, he was never going to leave this battlefield alive.

'Boy! Don't just stand there! Fight!' As the words leave the mouth of the woman who shouted them, a giant, winged creature, with the appearance of a vulture, swoops low, pierces the shoulders of the woman between its talons, and takes to the air. The woman's shouts of defiance trail in the sky. She screams her indomitability and might before her cries are silenced and blood rains down from above.

From among the horde, a creature steps out. Standing at twice my height, the beast stares directly at me with its glassy, fish-like eyes. Its mouth hangs open, showcasing rows of spiked teeth. Gripped within the monster's webbed hand, a sledgehammer. Blood drips to the ground from the pointed tips of the hammer. As the beast swings its weapon, it flings more blood to the ground. With a gargled cry, the Corpse Eater flattens the grass beneath its feet as it runs towards me.

Raising its hammer, it swings down. Though I escaped its blow, the vibrations of its impact with the ground pass through my feet and travel from my shins to my knees, stopping at my thighs. Dry soil explodes from where I had stood, diffusing in every direction, the soaring earth showers down from above.

Wiping the dirt from my face, I recentre myself and face the monster. I lift my arm and gather Tension into three points above my head. Shaping the milky-white energy, I form three spears of bone. Exciting the air, the spears radiate power. They strain against my hold, desperate to be released. Acquiescing to their demand, I let slip my restraint, launching the projectiles towards the corpse eater.

I don't hear the collision, but I see its effects. Blasting gaping holes through the body of the monster, the spears hit their mark. The beast wobbles on its feet. With a final croak, it closes its eyes and falls backwards onto the ground.

Without the time to appreciate my new power, I leap to the ground, escaping the path of an oncoming ball of green liquid. From behind, a hiss and a scream. Though the ball missed its mark, it found a target, nonetheless. Lifting myself to my feet, I confront the mud-toad. Like thunder, a croak blasts from its vocal sac.

From the ambient Tension, I mould a single white spear. Releasing it at my target, I drill a hole through the head of the beast.

This is madness, and I want no part of it. Whatever is happening here is not my problem. This isn't my battle to fight, and even if it is, I'm going to flee, nonetheless.

An army of mid-tier Tension Beasts?

I decline.

I'm not like these fools. I'm not going to throw my life away on a hopeless cause. From the auras I can feel from the Tension Masters fighting, not one of them exceeds rank-three. The majority are not even within rank-three. Gouge out both of my eyes, and I could still see that this battle is lost. I don't know what malevolent entity inspired these people to their deaths, but I will not partake in their sacrifice.

With spears of Tension, I blast through the endless swarm of beasts, creeping my way free from the centre of the battle. A young girl stands, back turned, impeding the path of my exit. Seemingly nailed to the ground, she stands still while her sword rattles in her hands. From behind, I grab the girls shoulders and toss her into the waiting claws of a Shade Champion. Ignoring her screams, I push further on.

She was damned already; I won't regret my actions.

Snatching my attention from my thoughts, I hear a scream. Though this battlefield is replete with screaming, one scream distinguishes itself. High pitched and full of sorrow, it tugs at my recollection, pulling my gaze in the direction of its source.

Emma?

What is she doing here?

A tall, thin, grey creature slaps Emma to the ground. Fits of laughter bubble from the creature's mouth as it Kneels over the bespectacled girl. Wrapping its twig-like fingers around her throat, the monster silences Emma's cries for help. I stand in place, my escape mere steps away.

Emma's eyes bulge from her sockets. Her tongue lashes the air. Squeezing the life from the de-spectacled girl, the creature sings its delight with manic laughter.

I bite the inside of my lip and move towards the sadistic scene. In a sidewards arc, I wave my hand through the air, forming six white, pointed bullets of Tension. Releasing my hold, the bullets pierce through the Mirthful Strangler, riddling its body with holes. Dead, it collapses onto the gasping girl.

Standing over my investment, I lift the corpse lying on top of the girl and throw it to the side. Having witnessed the death of their comrade, three stranglers run, arms behind backs, towards our location. With an upwards wave of my hand, I construct a dome barrier formed of bones. Though the dome is sealed, leaving no gap through which even light could enter, standing within the construction, I remain capable of seeing the world outside.

I reach my hand down towards the trembling girl. She stares widely up at me. 'Ner- Nero? How… How are you here?' Without answering, I stoop low and pull the girl to her feet.

'What's going on? Why are you here?' The girl opens her mouth, but her words die in her throat, replaced by muted croaking. 'Where are Tabitha and Solomon?'

No words, just more croaks.

'Emma, I don't have the time for your nonsense! Tell me why you're here.' Exerting the force of the spirit pledge, I break through the girl's panic and confusion. Her wide eyes narrow, and her trembling slows. She breathes deeply through her nose and exhales through her mouth before meeting my eyes with her own.'

'After you left, we decided to stay in the cave until the Tower breach had ended. We were going to walk to the nearest surviving town or village, gather supplies and if possible, hire a carriage to take us back to the academy. Unfortunately, the cave was attacked by Tension Beasts.' Emma begins, once more, to tremble.

'Stay focused!'

'Yes, yes, I'm sorry. As I was saying, we were forced to abandon the cave. In the chaos, I became separated from Tabitha and Solomon. I really don't know where they are.' Pounded by beasts from the outside, cracks begin to form around the barrier. I snap my fingers in front of Emma's face; her irises swing back to the centre of her eyes, refocused on me.

'I wandered the region, scared and alone. Eventually, I was found by a party of Peace-Keepers. They took me back to base camp. Soon after, news spread of an army of Tension-beasts destined for Belford City. By then, all of the rank-five Tension Masters recruited into the suppression effort were dispatched to eliminate the abyssal wraith. Everyone else was ordered here, ordered to defend Belford City. They told us we would be met with reinforcements. They told us they would arrive. They never arrived, Nero. They never arrived.'

Tears gush down Emma's face. She falls, but I catch her, unwilling to have to lift her from the ground twice.

'We don't have time for this!'

'I almost died!' Supported by my grip on her arms, Emma lifts her face, tears streaking down her cheeks, wetting her chin.

'Cry about it later.' Releasing my hold, I allow Emma to stand for herself. 'Do you have any Arts left?'

'One. I only have one, maybe less, because I've been enhancing myself since this battle began. What about you?'

'I have enough to get us out of here.'

'Nero, we can't leave. We've been ordered by the Peace-Keepers-'

'To die.' Emma goes silent. She casts her face downwards and waters the grass beneath her feet with her tears.

'We can't leave, Nero. If we desert, we'll be executed. The Peace-Keepers have that authority.'

'This battle is hopeless. I know you can see that. If we stay, we will surely die.'

'But if we go, we will die!'

'No, if we leave and the Tension Masters are wiped out, the Peace-Keepers will have a lot more to worry about than a couple of deserters. If, however, we stay, we will die. On the other hand, If by some act of Ember, the beasts are defeated, but we left, the crisis in this region will have been resolved, and the Peace-Keeper's authority will come to an end. In that same scenario but where we stay, we will still die. Whatever the result, leaving is the only sane option.'

Why am I wasting time trying to convince this girl? I could simply order her to do my bidding. The words of my command rise in my throat. Before they are spoken, Emma nods her head, acceding to my argument.

'You're right.' She says. 'I don't want to die here. Let's go.'

'Stay close.' With a thought, I release the barrier. I summon three spears and plunge them into the chests of the mirthful stranglers surrounding us. Taking Emma's hand, I guide her through the battlefield. The exit in sight, I increase my pace, dragging the girl around the combat raging in every direction. To my left, a man torn limb from limb screams out his suffering as the offending beast toys with him; to my right, a woman. With bony fingers around her neck, her face shades blue, and her eyes roll to the back of her head. Emma squeezes my hand, no doubt recalling her own recent trauma.

We break through the madness and keep running. Hand in hand, we don't turn back. Moving further and further away from the battlefield, I see a man atop the roof of a carriage. Dressed in a white suit, the man sits, holding a mini-fork, eating fruits from a tin. The scent drifts into my enhanced nose.

Peaches.

Smiling, the man places his snack to his side and waves.

'I wasn't sure if I was going to see any action today. Oddly, you're the first deserters to come my way. I was certain that more of you would have fled by now. Oh well, I suppose I'll just have to take my time with you two.' Directing his gaze at Emma, his smile broadens. 'Slow day and all, I think I'm going to have a little bit extra fun with you.' Stepping forward, I shield Emma from the man's lecherous stare.

'Who are you?' I ask.

'Does that really matter? All you need to know is that I'm the man tasked with executing deserters. Well, since it doesn't matter, I suppose there's no harm in telling you. The name's Christopher Vespertine…

'Rank-four expert of the Vespertine Clan.'