Chapter 42 - 42: Master and the Chosen
The towering set of onyx armour, Ashburn, stood as a backdrop, waging battle and spilling blood within a sea of emerging flames. Eshent reeled backwards, glancing up at the sky as he felt his palid visage overtake him. He grasped at his face, his gaze shaking.
What the f-ck is wrong with me...? I feel... not normal...
He saw faint golden highlights behind each individual that moved around him...
No, upon reexamining it, he realised it wasn't 'behind' them. It was in front of them. And as they moved, they matched up perfectly with these radiant silhouettes, as if it had been fated that they would meet.
And suddenly, Eshent became acutely aware of what was happening. This was the work of someone greater than him...
He grinned, looking towards the gaunt, stormy-eyed Reaper.
My thanks, Lord. I'll use this boon well.
Eshent's eyes shook with a mixture of impatience and mottled despair as he saw the chipped cleaver in Gardner's hands.
"You're the one... that killed my sister..."
Of course, he had known that the culprit was amongst the group of red-cloaked demons. They were the ones he had seen before the skewed cross on the hilltop. But he didn't ever imagine that he would be able to determine the identity of a single culprit, the one that had touched upon his cheek during his period of utmost despair.
Rage boiled up within him. This was a prime opportunity!
I'm going to f-cking kill him! I'm going to kill them all! I'm going to-!
He felt the Lord's pacification wash over him, calming his turmoiling emotions and returning him to a calm state.
"Your sister? Whatever could you be referring to? We kill a lot of people... well, we kill anything that travels along the edge of the city. If that was your sister, we quantified her as nothing more than a creature that needed to be slain. Sorry!" Gardner winked at Eshent, chuckling.
Eshent's eyes gradually grew relaxed, tranquil, almost pleasant.
"You're right, Reaper. In fact, maybe all people are the same. Right now, this is how I see you. A creature that I will slay."
He was covered head-to-toe in blood, his once-yellow cloak now stained a bright-red.
Eshent resembled a Reaper more than Priest, now.
"What do you say to a duel, little Priest? Let's determine it all here." Gardner jested.
"A duel? I'm fine with that, it's what I intended to do with you, but it won't determine the outcome of the battle, just whoever lives to see your side inevitably lose."
The field had cleared. While many still fought, some had gathered a sense of curiosity after noticing their leaders had met. Of course, they divided themselves consistently, standing behind their leaders without any proximity towards each other. But this seemed... too good an opportunity to pass up. For the Reapers, Gardner was their most experienced, most-deadly fighter. And for the Priests, this was the man who had seen their Lord, who had witnessed His Grace, who had been chosen by Him.
How could they not watch this fight?
Eshent and Gardner began to circle in the fighting square that had been formed, carefully eyeing each other's movements, sizing each other up. For Gardner, this was a natural means of fighting, it was his experience that determined how the Priest would fight, how he would move, how he could be countered.
But for Eshent, it was acutely different. He wasn't just looking at Gardner, but towards the radiant outline ahead of him, where he was Fated to move, where he would strike, where he could be met and slain.
Eshent was the first to move, whipping the black-steel jian forward. It shrieked as it reeled ahead of him, twisting in a serpentine manner within the air as it met the Reaper.
But despite never having seen this weapon in action, Gardner reacted perfectly, precisely. Not a single movement was wasted, his graceful motions like water, weaving about as he swung the cleaver above him, knocking the black-steel jian's point high into the air.
At the same time, he pivoted his weight forward, dashing towards Eshent without hesitating.
But this was something Eshent was able to anticipate. This golden radiance gradually moved at the same time as Gardner, albeit farther ahead. He could see when this master swordsman would stop, where the strike of his blade would begin, where it could be counteracted. But it was pertinent that he hesitated to block.
If it were too soon, someone like Gardner could react accordingly.
That first strike Eshent had thrown was a test. Now he knew that he couldn't simply use the visions of Fate provided by the Lord, he would adequately work around them!
Eshent leaned into the space where Gardner would appear, pulling back on the black-steel jian, and at the same time, throwing his fist forward.
Gardner saw both movements occur as he approached, raising the cleaver over his shoulder as he sucked in his stomach, avoiding Eshent's punch and blocking the returning point of the black blade.
However, out of his sight, Eshent had also thrust forward with the hilt of his blade. While it was in its whip-like formation, it was flimsier, but that didn't mean it couldn't be solidified just as quickly. It snapped back into formation, the point reeling back as it became a normal blade once more, dragging alongside Gardner's neck.
His eyes widened as blood sprayed out from his left, swinging his cleaver overhead towards Eshent. His wounds renewed themselves almost instantly, having stored a bit of human flesh from earlier on the inside of his cheek for this very instance.
This Priest, he's good! F-ck, will I really have to try!?
For a time further, they exchanged many blows. While their bodies fatigued themselves, gradually, and their boons influenced their survival, Eshent and Gardner began to resemble dancers. Their movements were far too in sync, too meaningful and distinguished. Each time their blades clashed, sparks would fly, and it would look as if they had never intended to harm each other at all.
That was the balance of a duel between a master swordsman and the Visionary chosen by Fate.
But Gardner, who could acutely recognise the movements of a fighter, the very base of their foundation, had begun to realise that there was simply no foundation in Eshent's movements. He might have been a quick thinker, and capable on his feet, but it felt like he was being led, puppeteered. There was no essence of the sword within him.
But more than that, having followed Eshent's gaze to determine his next moves, Gardner had realised something crucial.
He dashed backwards, facing Eshent as he grimaced.
"Why does it feel like you're looking past me?"
He couldn't help but feel his entire body shiver.
This figure... why had he suddenly become so much more imposing?
It didn't feel like he was staring at just another Priest... it felt like this man had been blessed. And the Blessed of Fate did not often fail.
"I see something far more significant."
Gardner glanced behind him quickly, but spotted nothing at all. When he looked back towards Eshent, the Priest's left eye had begun to bleed, crimson rushing down his cheek. Slowly, an obsidian-black mask with intricate golden embellishments swirling around it formed. It had no eyeholes, the Visionary clearly could not see through it.
He flipped the jian over in his hand, wielding it backwards.
"And it is past all of this nuisance."
Eshent whipped the jian forward, its blade extending towards Gardner. The high speed caused it to whir in midair, like a storm-summoned gale. It boomed, shrieking past Gardner's head, taking his ear clean from his body.
Gardner let out a shout, clutching at the side of his head as he dashed backwards, nearly slipping in the mud below.
This pain... what was this?
He had felt so much pain before, why was this instance of it hurting so badly!?
No... forget that... this feeling that grasped at his chest...
...was this fear?
"Don't ever confuse yourself, thinking you have importance! Do you imagine your Lord is fervently supporting you? This is a rat fight! He is the spectator!" Gardner suddenly shouted impertinently.
However, before he could say anything more, Eshent had already thrust his blade forward once more. When Gardner raised to block, he realised he had miscalculated his parry, it would not collide with the Priest's strike. Moreover, the sea of mud and blood underneath his feet caused him to lose his balance, stumbling backwards.
"Marres, f-cking kill-!" Gardner's words were cut short. The black-steel jian had already extended, whipping past his head with a shriek and wrapping itself around his neck.
The world turned upside-down for Gardner as Marres rushed towards him. He found himself staring at his own body, rouge liquid spilling onto his robes from his neck.
This 𝓬ontent is taken from fгeewebnovёl.co𝙢.
His companion had already reached him.
Marres grasped Gardner's disembodied head by its hair, dashing backwards as his eyes locked onto the Priest. Eshent stood solitary, watching this happen without betraying that smug, calm look on his face. Through the blind mask, it felt like the Priest's eyes were piercing into Marres's very depths, it terrified him.
To think that the God of Yellow had such a figure working underneath him!
"Hey... little Priest..." Marres cursed.
"What? Do you want to duel too?"
Marres shook his head. "No, I'm just failing to understand a key point..."
His voice grew shallow, conniving.
"You were so brazen in your actions. Did you think the only Reds we had were the ones that came to fight?"
The Priests surrounding Eshent began to shout, crying out as they looked towards the ridge behind them. Where they had once staged the fortification, planning the battle, a wall of crimson eschewed the plain of dawn-light.
Thousands of Reapers had entered the fold.
Scarlet bathed the world.