Book 3, Chapter 88 - The Crimson Arrival (1/2)

Cloudhawk always had a talent for stealth. Here, in this white-hot conflict, surrounded by the killing intent of so many, he was impossible to detect.

He crept closer to the lieutenant general. Closer. He only had a single shot!

Anyone with a title like his was no push-over. Even with all his advantages he dare not underestimate this foe. And so he waited, taught as a bowstring, crouched like a leopard, waiting for the perfect chance to strike.

From a flanking position several Dark Atom soldiers came charging in, laden with packed vests.

Elysian soldiers weren’t well-versed in the weapons of old, but years of battling these terrorists made them familiar with their tactics. These were suicide soldiers, and their aim was to blow themselves up in the middle of a crowd to take out as many enemies as possible – and themselves in the process.

Insanity.

They were willing to destroy their own bodies for the promise of mutually assured destruction.

Cloudhawk watched from his hidden vantage, speechless.

But the lieutenant and his men were not without teeth. As the suicide soldiers closed in soldiers met them with weapons raised. Several of the rebels had their heads severed before they got too close, but even still their bodies erupted into cacophonous explosions once their dead bodies struck the ground.

A second later, fire and concussive force buffeted the soldiers. Many of the elysians who had moved in to stop them were blasted away or blown apart.

There were no buttons or switches to control the suicide vests as they were connected to the wearer’s heartbeat. When they died, the vests activated. Other rebels continued to charge forward, set ablaze by the detonation of their comrades yet they seemed to feel nothing. Showers of arrows pelted them in their assault, and several more fell in their attempts. The ground shook at they, too, exploded into a mess of limbs and organs.

One of them crossed the field with no less than a dozen arrows jutting from his body. He screamed at the sky, a terrible cry like a dying animal. It was the sound of unyielding faith and indomitable will. His heart was pierced and his legs shot through, yet he refused to fall. Using what remained of his quickly fading life, he jumped toward Drake with wide bloodshot eyes.

The upper half of his body split apart in midair and was consumed by fire. He fell upon Drake like a hellbeast.

The lieutenant watched the human fireball descend with a grin and raised his shield. The debris of what had been the soldier and the detonation were both deflected by his shield. For Drake, an attack like this was no threat. However, it did give the one hiding nearby the opportunity he was looking for.

Cloudhawk rose up, ready to attack. There was no question, the officer’s life.

However, as he was raising his weapon to strike there was something about the man’s stalwart body that gave him pause. As he got closer he saw more clearly who he was about to attack. Though it was not accurate to say he ‘saw’ – the cumbersome armor hid anything that might be recognizable – but he did know that pitch black sword he carried.

Cloudhawk stopped.

Three years in Hell’s Valley weren’t wasted on Drake, and three years later he had only gotten stronger.

His senses were sharp, so when the cloud of danger fell over him it was like an electric shock through his body. Reflexively he swung around, bringing his several hundred kilogram sword over his head.

“Hold it!”

Cloudhawk pulled back his dual exorcist staves in a defensive posture just in time. Drake’s sword came crashing down with an intensity that threatened to crush him flat. Joints popped beneath the strain. The chance had been there, and Cloudhawk could have slain Drake if he’d wanted but held back. Now the opportunity had passed.

Drake was not weak, but one-on-one the Warden had a clear advantage. Of course now that his quarry knew where he was Cloudhawk couldn’t assassinate him, but he wouldn’t anyway now that he knew who the border forces’ lieutenant general was. For better or worse, the two shared the bitter experience of Hell’s Valley for three years. It came as complete surprise to find him all the way out here.

Cloudhawk let his invisibility fade.

Drake’s mouth fell open in astonishment, while in the same moment there was a kernel of suspicion in the back of his mind. There was no question that there was a threat to his life just a moment ago. Now, here was Cloudhawk. What was going on?

“What are you doing here?!”

Cloudhawk saw his old comrade’s guarded expression. The soldiers he had with him had gathered round now with their weapons raised, and the Warden had to laugh inwardly. Who knew this would happen? He was in the shit now, and what was he supposed to say? I was actually just about to murder you? The weather was nice so I decided to go out for a stroll?

Coal might have fallen for a line like that, but there weren’t many as trusting as that one. An elysian lieutenant was a skilled leader with plentiful experience.

Drake might have looked like a brute, but in reality he was anything but. He was smart and sophisticated, and cunning in his ways. Back in Hell’s Valley his improvement had always been quick and consistent, one of the best of his class.

Even if they had been close in those days, right now Drake clearly had his doubts about his former colleague.