Chapter 280 - Escape (1/2)
”Come on,” the footsteps muffled by heavy rain hitting the thick foliage above, ”-this isn't the time to give up,” urged with bloodied hands, face, and a suit drenched in the liquid. *Bang, bang,* echoed with flickers of light, bullets landed all around. *Fwoop,* a direct hit, ”-keep moving,” coughed, white hair turned red.
”Leave me behind,” hand in hand, a girl, with half of her visage burnt, ”-it's not worth it,” the rain raged, behind, in tandem, forces of unimaginable quantities.
”Don't give me that self-sacrificing bullshit,” with a hard tug, ”-we're getting out of this together,” shielded, five shots as loud as explosions, ”Cough” each hit, blood dripped.
”You're not fine,” paralyzed by fear, the girl, now in a princess carry, could but stare vividly as the rain, turned crimson, dripped from her carrier's face and body.
”Are you seriously going to stand there and take this abuse?” from the back pocket, a fairy hovered, ”-fight already,” she stood with her arms on her lap.
”Don't you think I want to retaliate,” gritted, an injured Staxius struggled down the forest, the path seemed to go on forever. ”Have you forgotten we're being hunted by saints and an angel no less, the bullets from that f.u.c.k.i.n.g Knightfall doesn't help either,” regeneration didn't kick in.
”P-please,” the girl begged, ”-l-leave me and escape, I've already lost my dignity as an apostle.”
”Shut it,” a sharp refute, ”-shelter,” amidst the pouring rainfall and barrage of bullets – he slid and leaped into an abandoned mine, trees had overgrown. Invisible during the brightly lit day, at night, was as dark and somber as space itself.
'Damn it,' rested against the rough edge wall, he panted.
”W-who are you?” asked the girl with a confused look.
”No one particular,” the shirt opened, bullet wounds that didn't heal nor regenerate, ”-Adete,” he turned, ”-this is bad.”
”What do you mean?” for the first time, there was a look of defeat on his face.
”I've used up all my mana, I've barely got anything to heal nor use magic. Infiltrating this land of fanatic took more than seven months, can't believe we're reaching the eighth now,” the face leaned back, ”-no mana to use means that the regeneration isn't going to take effect,” the hands trembled, '-this is bad, super bad,' eyes closed, he thought. 'The saints, the angel, and an entity who has gone beyond the realm of reality, Kreston is more than the land of fanatics. I should have taken more precautions; it was a wise choice to infiltrate and track down the apostle's location. I managed to make contacts, the process was tedious, killing was out of the picture – the angel has a barrier all around the province, and remote killing-intent or foreign mana will immediately notify my presence. I can't fight, using all my mana without recovering for all this time – used to create a shield so that I'd be able to slip under the radar.'
”Listen to me,” worried, Adete grabbed a hold of his cheeks, ”-look at me,” she ordered, consciousness barely there. ”Don't give me the bullshit of you dying on me. Have you forgotten who you are?” her voice serious, ”-you're he who thrives in killing. Stop holding back for the sake of the kingdom. You're scared that any move you make here might have repercussion on Arda and Hidros,” she pointed towards the girl, ”-look at her, these people aren't worthy to be left alive – go out and slaughter them. Who cares if mana is out, WAKE UP BLOOD KING.”
”No need to make it so dramatic,” he sighed, *Release,* the all-seeing eye returned, for the entirety, he had been surveying the land for an escape. ”The saints are not that far off; the angel is back at the church – he's worried that I might go ahead and kill the Pope. Soldiers are roaming around, not to mention that sniper, waiting for us to leave.”
”Excuse me, why is it that you're here?” she asked, with a star-shaped mark on her forehead.
”I'm here to return the very much-loved apostle to her people. Don't you have to spread the word of Goddess Syhton – so many people thrive in her warmth and kindness. That's why we're heading back home no matter what, I've got a pregnant wife waiting, I miss her so much.”
”It's been eight months since I was abducted, I thought I was going to die on the first day,” she stared off in the distance, ”-turns out, the pope had ulterior motives. My face is proof, just look at it,” burnt without an ounce of pity, her right eye was bleached to white. ”I'm relieved,” she smiled, ”-despite all that pain, my faith never faltered. The stars always gave me the courage to go on. Then, before my execution, a man dressed in a suit with silvery hair swooped in and rescued a damsel in distress.”
”Don't overthink it,” ripped, the sleeve and cloth torn into makeshift bandages, ”-they got my leg,” tightened, the blood poured right through. ”We won't be doing much running,” outside, numerous presences approached.
”Listen to me, girl who I've yet to ask her name – burn this message in thy head. The cruelty of this province, the inhuman brainwashing,” a side glance later, ”-only a monster can take down a monster.” Knuckled cracked, ”Adete, get ready,” with a smile, the eyes rekindle.
”On it,” stood on his head with arms crossed, *Blood-Arts: Bloody Mary.*
”Don't you dare move from this spot; I don't want someone innocent to bear witness of what is to come. Trust me, it's better for the both of us.”
”As you say, old man,” the last part came out involuntarily, ”-sorry I didn't mean it,” her hands covered her mouth in embarrassment.
'Old man,' he chuckled, '-seriously.' *Blood-Arts: Crimson Thread,* wings sprouted, fingernail sharpened, the aura around the cave changed.
”Come out so that our faith can purge thee heathen.”
”We've got the god's emissary watching our backs, there's nothing you can do about it,” a reference to the sniper.
”At ease,” in swooped a man dressed in a white robe with a great-sword, ”-leave this hunt to the chosen,” a hand gesture forced the fighters on their knees.
”Saint Marl, we're saved,” they bowed with respect and admiration. Across a narrow line of sight, laid on a small cliff, the scope of Knightfall bore its fang on the entrance. ”Better not miss,” seductively, a lady caressed the wielder's cheek from right to left, ”-else I'll be forced to find another host,” she whispered with a chilling breath.
Relentless, the rain flowed down the veins, as if curtain, with a sharp gesture, ”-who has come to purge me?” Staxius asked rhetorically and approached. The stomach bled the face fatigue, he limped.
”You've finally shown yourself,” menacingly, a man with the title of Saint, bearing a strong religious belief with an unforgiving aura, ”-you'd better show where the pseudo apostle hides.”
”I'm going to hit him right in the head,” forced, the sights lined with the target's face, ”-wait…” shocked, he backed away.
”Why are you retreating?” asked the lady.