Chapter 91 - A Bitter Victory (1/2)

Chapter 91 - A Bitter Victory

As the arrows came at them from above, Cloudhawk and Artemis scattered. Cloudhawk carried the Bloodsoaked Queen into a copse of nearby trees, but not before a few of the arrows found him. They were as effective as any real arrow, but luckily he had his cloak to protect him from the bulk of the damage. By the time they were safe he was bruised from head to toe.

Son of a bitch! He’s right on our asses!

Brandishing his staff the young wastelander glared into the forest. There a dark figure emerged, surrounded by a mist-like haze of sand. A strange, echoing voice hissed at him.

“Do you think you can run?”

The demon! The motherfucker was back.

The Queen’s body was still recovering but she gripped her cross tight in her hand. Holy light radiated from it anew. Although she was already beaten bloody and subsequently wracked with pain from the panacea, she was still determined to die in combat.

After their first encounter she saw how inadequate she was before him, she was no fool. She didn’t expect to win – but perhaps she could help Cloudhawk escape!

Everything, all of this had come about because of her. Getting him involved was an accident.

He’s a good man with a lot of potential, maybe even more than me. Perhaps he can do what I’ve failed to accomplish. He has to get to safety, even if it kills me!

The demons eyes were unblinking, like deep and ancient wells. He seemed capable of peering into one’s heart. A strange chuckle issued from him like the quiet call of an owl, and as he extended his right hand the sand that surrounding him reshaped into an awl-pike suspended in midair.

The beast slowly extended his hand and the pike fired off like an arrow. The air warped in protest from its rapid passage.

The demon’s target was not the demonhunter, or the new outpost leader that had betrayed him. It was the one between them, Cloudhawk. While they watched the pike none of them noticed the sandy tentacles creeping along the ground that held Cloudhawk fast. His legs and half of his body were quickly wrapped up, preventing him from dodging. He could do nothing but watch his doom approach.

Shit!

The Queen watched with wide-eyed dismay, for he knew it was already too late for her to protect him. The danger that pike presented would be fatal to her, much more so for the untrained Cloudhawk.

In this critical moment a lithe figure swept in front of the young man. Artemis swung her mighty hammer, knocking the sand pike from the air. But the indomitable power of the attack also broke her weapon into metal splinters and sent her flying like a kite with broken strings. Flesh and blood splattered over the peaceful green of the oasis.

Suddenly Cloudhawk’s eyes turned a bloody red!

He broke free of the sandy tentacles like an enraged fiend. With a speed and strength he’d never displayed before the young wastelander charged forward.

The exorcist staff awakened! Its three-edged point spun like a tornado, followed by a fiery light that swallowed the whole area.

The exorcist staff was not a fire-element relic, but the intense friction it caused released heat. It was so extreme that the oxygen in the air caught fire. Cloudhawk had channeled all of his psychic power, all of his strength, all of his anger into his staff for this attack.

B-o-o-m!

Trees shook as concussive force ripped through the area, with buffeting winds tearing off chunks of bark and countless leaves. The demon did not dodge, did not flinch. He just stood with his open palm raised, the tip of Cloudhawk’s smoking stave resting inert against its center.

“Respectable.”

The demon’s understated praise was punctuated with a gentle push of his hand.

Cloudhawk was launched away as though from a cannon and crashed into a tree.

The exorcist staff was flung to the side like so much detritus. When the demon looked down into his palm he noted cracks had formed around the point of impact and purple blood had begun to leak free. Less than two seconds later the bleeding stopped.

The Bloodsoaked Queen raced into the bushes where she found Cloudhawk convulsing on the ground. He was covered in wounds, but his glaring red eyes burned with murderous intent. The will remained but he hadn’t the power to lift himself up off the ground.

Several of his ribs were broken.

The damage wasn’t from the demon – the creature throwing him away could not be considered an assault. He’d done it to himself from overexertion. Berserker rage like this was rarely seen, he was like a wild dying animal. “Let go of me! I’m gonna kill him!”

This isn’t your fight, the Queen said to herself. It isn’t your war! This battle is for demonhunters!

She held him tight, tears mixed with blood streaming from beneath her mask. This is my fault, it’s all my fault. My fault!

The demon’s unblinking, unfeeling eyes watched everything. His hands began to accumulate power once again, but this time it was the Bloodsoaked Queen – blazing cross in hand – who stood to meet him. She fixed her enemy with an unyielding gaze. That pious holy warrior had returned.

Her sights never left the visage of her arch-enemy. “You can have my life, but you must let him go!”