Interlude: The Fury: 2 (Patreon)

Interlude: The Fury: 2

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Wordcount: 2500

Commissioned by Arksoul

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The guardians of the mountain pass took their toll upon my army. 

They were Dragons clad in armor that resisted the flames of my anguish. When they roared, great plumes of flame surged over my army, and many could do no more than withstand the pyre. Our armor heated to such heights that it burned our flesh, while smoke and heat stung at our faces even through our helms. Not only that, but after each pass of flame, they would descend upon us armored with weapons that surpassed our own in might tearing through us while we could only offer a few wounds in return for the complete annihilation of many who I impressed into my hunt. 

However, in the end, the guards were just as I described: a toll upon my army.

One that I could afford to pay.

As I ventured from where I was reborn, I’d encountered many who fought for a cause not my own, and each one fell to either my blade or that of my companions, thus joining the battle as one of us one by one. For every one immolated into nothing by the intense flame, there were three to take their place, and to my newfound people wounds are of no consequence. Unless utterly reduced to ashe, or completely rendered incapable of fighting and moving, those who answered my call for vengeance arose with immunity to suffering and pain. 

Those whose armor melted into their skin fought with the same ferocity as those who did not. If one of my new companions lost their limbs, they searched for it, and rebound it to themselves before joining the battle again. My new comrades, all those in my new army, would not burn as my previous companions did, nor would they be crushed by rocks, or even be deprived of air until their death. One and all, even if they could not face the Dragons that prowled the mountain passes, they were able to bog down the monsters that stood against us. 

So, though I gave up quarter my army to enter the land where HIS scent was the strongest, that quarter would hold the fearsome creatures.

They will fall against them, and when they fall the Dragons will fall upon us once again to destroy us, but not before I destroy HIM. 

I felt the rage overtaking me. 

The edges of my vision were blurring with blood. Everything that was not him was fading away, as abhorrence and disgust seeped into every inch of my being. The trees, the freshly harvest fields, and the looming mountains evoked memories that no longer existed, and therefore meant nothing to me, still faded into frenzied, swirling scarlet, as my entire being surged solely toward HIM. The skies, the earth, the wind, time, and everything bled away, while the hate that replaced my heart forced me, my steed, and my followers forward.

HE was a pillar of darkness, an all-consuming darkness that swallowed the rest of my world, which I must topple and make fall.

If I did not, my life could not hope to have meaning nor purpose.

Not until I crushed his skull with my bare hands. 

And, so I rode past it all, my skeletal steed straining beneath me as I urged it to hasten. The galloping hoofbeats of all my followers, those who followed my path of vengeance, echoed through the valley like the thunderous of hundreds of hammers. Each hoofbeat, every surge of flame from the skeletal beasts, was the only sound that reached my ears that rivaled that of my rampaging heart. The dead, mishappen, and blackened thing that remained in my chest pushed no blood through my veins, yet it roared and raced with the anticipation and need to finally, truly return to life. 

But even with all that hate, all that pain, and all that suffering urging me forward, my past reached out to me and urged me to stop and see, even when I know that HE was within my reach.

Because between him and myself was a fortress that threatened my vengeance.

Its walls were pure white reams of thick spider silk, upon which was wound hundreds upon hundreds of iron rods in a net-like mesh. The walls emitted power that promised protection from magics of such strength that even at a distance, the flames of my army’s steeds dimmed, and my link to my army was threatened by weakness. 

The land before the fortress was heavily excavated into a gentle, downward slope from the tree line upon which I stood and where my army waited. The fortress walls were given additional “height” by the moved Earth, bot the slow incline was also studded with blackened spikes, and the padded earth was covered in a layer of straw. Pitch dripped from them, all but foretelling the massive moat’s true nature as that of a field of flame, upon which HE hoped to turn my army to ash, as the Dragons did.

A feeble, faraway part of me wondered how much Earth was in preparation for my coming, but all my eyes looked upon was 

A voice whispered into my mind that with such protections, those within it cannot use magic themselves, but the idle thought faded away into obscurity as a sharp pain in my heart bid me to cease simply looking.

HE is there. 

HE hides behind those walls, awaiting me, with all the forces HE could muster. 

HE… already has me in HIS reach!

“Move!” The voice that leaves my mouth is not one that I recognize. It is lighter than the voice that I can no longer recall, yet it caries every ounce of anguish and hate that I feel. However, despite its strangeness to my ears, it served its purpose, and affirmed my link to my army, so that I might not lose it all to HIS preparations. “Move now!”

No sooner did the words leave my lips did the sky itself betray me again.

Again?

Again…

How… could that be?

Harpies and Wyverns dove from above. Their legs held inconspicuous objects, which they dropped upon my army, before taking ascending out of the reach of my companions again. They were sealed bags, each one no different from the other, and many of the flying Kindred carried more than one to unleash upon my forced. However, their outward appearance mattered not in the slightest, as they collided with the ground and unleashed their hidden potential.

Though they scattered, there was nowhere to go but back and forward, and both directions were within HIS reach. For my army, there was nothing to do, besides weather the storm that erupted all around us. 

The noise was like that of incessant thunder, as soil upturned itself, and trees turned into splinters. Boom. Boom. Boom. Wood, bone, and earth all buckled and broke as magic was agitated beyond acceptable, unleashing pressure, heat, and force. Each parcel was obliterated in the process, their confines becoming either burning, speeding motes, which found purchase in the cold flesh of my fellows. Many were unhorsed, even after doing as ordered, and the manic attempt to follow my orders led to some being crushed. 

And, that is due to a single parcel.

HE unleashed three waves across the entirety of my army, setting the entire forest aflame, and darkening the sky with plumes of acrid, black smoke. Each one struck the perfect place, none were aimed me or any of my warriors, but in a pattern. One that overlapped the radius of each intense conflagration, felled tree after tree by breaking their foundations and upturning earth, and shattered the mounts of many of my army… and many the riders themselves. 

Pressure and heat from all directions instead of simply above took an immense toll. Whereas the Dragons flew upon us and ravaged us in passes, which many withstood be raising their shields until they melted away, the assault leveraged upon my army now could no be defended against. The trees offered no shelter as they broke beneath the blasts, there was nowhere to flee as we surrounded ourselves before a castle composed to perfectly repel cavalry, and our shields and armor could do nothing to protect us as we were assailed in every direction. 

However, even if we were broken and forced to fall, we were not undone.

Our steeds were no more. 

Many lost limbs or could fight.

We were all scattered and struggling to get up.

But that mattered not, as I still lived, and my army would heed my call.

When the storm of fire and fury ended, little over half of my army remained, and we were forced to choose between waiting for the moat of stakes and flame to subside and be struck from the air again, or charge at the blight. 

So, there was only one choice.

“Forward! Go! Move!” A voice from someone who I did not recall whispered for me to retreat, to fight another day, even as I stood amidst the unmoving forms of my frontline. Faint memories that were not mine flowed into me. Every single one advised me to retreat, so I paid each one no heed, as I willed my army to rise up with me. Atop the walls of the castle arose armored warriors hefting stones and carved trunks of trees, and soon enough they began lobbing upon us projectiles which could shatter city walls. The voices cried out for me to stop, to retreat, and to live, but I ignored each one once again. “Kill!”

All that mattered was ending HIM.

My army surged forward, a mass of black armor, pale skin, and blue flame. They waded into a firestorm, uncaring even as their flesh began to cook within the metal, while siege projectiles crashed upon them. The pitch slowed them, but not as much as the protections upon the walls that disrupted magic, making each of them easy targets even in the moat of flame. However, over the course of my journey, I gathered many companions… and now I knew why.

They were the tower I use to scale the walls. 

Even those who have already fallen may act as mortar for the living bricks that I had at my disposal.

So, I seized them all as one, and made them act as one, towards a singular point in the fortress that loomed behind a field of flame. Those who lost both their upper limbs formed the foundation, laying themselves upon flaming pitch to smother flame, and become the cornerstone of the ascending ramp. Those with only arms scoured the tree line for bodies and threw them forward for those who still retained all their limbs, but could no longer move as deftly and swiftly, due to their armor becoming grafted into their bodies. Those who retained their mobility, and who could still fight, devoted themselves entirely towards constructing the ramp at any cost.

And, soon, through their efforts and my command, it was built.

The path of my salvation courtesy of my companions. 

The path that led straight into the source of all evils in the world.

So, I took it and scaled the walls with my forces.

They were too few to overwhelm the defenders. The strong warriors, who fought with inner power, and exhibited experience in fighting monsters, swiftly began to overcome the ragged remains of my army. However, through their sheer numbers, I broke through as the simple top of the walls became flooded by my forces. They were being torn swiftly torn apart, and with no hope of overcoming the warriors, but that was their purpose.

To slow the enemy, so that I may reach HIM.

HE sat upon a stool at the back of the castle, with the sheer mountainside at HIS back, and the tapestry of the Kindred plastered upon the wall behind him. Clad entirely in ebony, with and the coat of a nobleman upon his shoulders, the mountain’s shadow cast my foe in a deep darkness. Upon the wretched creature’s lap lay a feeble sword with middling power, as his true weapon was the singular warrior who stood by his side, who faced me with a blade that evoked memories that I could no longer call mine. 

Yet neither the blade nor the one who wielded it mattered.

All that mattered was vile abomination that sat in the shade with complete calm, even as the dead flooded its ramparts, and as I stood before him.

The whispers told me to kill him, but my heart was set on another path.

“You… you killed them! My allies, my soldiers, and my people!” Words not my own left my mouth, while my whole form became ravaged with hate. I felt power from depths unknown crawl into me, as even the feeling “emptiness” was being sold in exchange for power. Soon, I felt the flames crawl upon my skin again, despite the crippling of magic from within and without the fortress. “Today… today, you die Hikigaya Hachiman!” 

I readied myself to attack, when suddenly a loud, singular chime resounded through the din of battle.

When I turned my gaze towards it source, I saw a… a shape… a winged… winged… I did not… what is that thing in the air, which my mind refuses to acknowledge, which is driving away the fire in my blood, and replacing it with an icy chill?

For the first time, since my rebirth, I felt fear.

Yet as soon as the thing arrived, it left, and I realized Hikigaya Hachiman was standing and holding his blade in one hand.

However, the ire of my existence was not looking at me, even as his soft words reached me over the clatter of steel and the rending of bone.

“Lucky you. You don’t need to risk your life in a stupid duel to the death.” He spoke to his weapon and stretched, while not so much as giving me an idle glance. Instead he looked behind me, towards his warriors who were gathering around him and leaving the walls for my army to scale… and as those who ravaged my troops from the air descended from the skies armed with bows, halberds, and spears that hacked at my Undead with ease. A frown crossed his face at the firestorm beyond me, while his utter disregard for my existence froze me in place. I mattered not to him. My pain, suffering, and hate… meant nothing. “Let’s get out of here, then.”

His people defended against my horde, while I desperately tried to move, to overcome the feeling of despair from his simple, true lack of disregard for me. My soldiers fought poorly, scoring only the slightest of wounds on his people, while Harpies wrapped around those who could not fly… and ascended with them into the sky.

My army, my hate, reached for them, ran after them, and leapt forth from the ramparts into the fiery moat without hesitation, while I could only look, watch, and wait for the trap I’d fallen into to spring.

It came in the form of a speeding, large projectile that descended sharply from where the… Demon… had stood in the air and fell exactly before me… breaking through the thin wooden floors of fortress, into the storeroom beneath, which held dozens upon dozens of the parcels that ravaged my army at the start of the siege.

The fortress itself was the trap.

And, I lost the moment I pursued him into it.