When I woke up, it wasn’t the serene wake-up call I had hoped for. It felt like I had gone head-to-head with a family of porcupines in a sumo match—every prickly encounter leaving sharp pains in places I didn’t even know existed. Honestly, if pain were a sport, I’d have taken home the gold medal.
Surveying my shattered form, I concluded without hesitation that I was a complete wreck. If I were a doctor from my old-old world, I’d be lighting up a cigarette before jotting down the grim prognosis, taking a fat draw from it before I ran the list.
My left pinky was completely gone, and part of my right ring finger was missing—talk about a manicure disaster. Thankfully, my severed leg was back in place, but a thick ring of scar tissue hinted I might now have the gait of a one-legged pirate. My arms barely moved, feeling like they had more freshly healed fractures than Shattermourne himself. A dull ache pulsed in my core, reminding me that a large portion of my digestive tract had decided to make a dramatic exit through my throat—necrosis never had such flair.
I felt patched flaps of skin that once hung loose on my face, where the hardened ooze had dug into my skull. Quen, in all her genius, stopped me from plunging over the edge of no return by ripping the manifest of my rage off my face, leaving me looking like the victim of an industrial glue prank gone wrong.
Still, despite feeling like a pro boxer’s punching bag, I was alive—miraculously. I was teetering on the edge of undead status more than ever, but whether it was the rain keeping me from toppling over or Ichni’s healing webs holding me together, I had somehow survived.
Speaking of Ichni, she was still perched on my lap, half-asleep, which in her ghostly state meant she looked perpetually restless. When she sensed me stirring, she turned to face me with the solemnity of a widow seeing her beloved emerge from the coffin.
“Oh, thank the devils, you’re alive,” she mumbled, scrutinizing my battered face. “Where does it hurt? I’ve been patching and adjusting your injuries since you passed out.” Her attempts to sound stern were endearing, like a ghostly nurse who missed their coffee break.
“Ugh… if I had a body chart, it’d be a coloring book. I’m all sorts of a mess.” I admitted, shifting uneasily on my own weight. “I’ll be fine, Ichni. Thanks for keeping watch over me.”
“You’re welcome, you mindless ghoul,” she declared, attempting to inject some insult into her tone. But her face betrayed her—concern was etched all over her spectral features. “I don’t know why or how you used those cursed arts, but you nearly killed yourself trying to show off. Khippa—please—don’t do that again. Do you understand me? I know bossing you around like a princess won’t get through to you, so I’m asking as your royal tactician. As your friend, whatever it takes to make you see sense.” Her attempt at sass was cute, if a bit misplaced in this hellish aftermath. Her crimson hair ran along the length of her face as she looked at me expectantly, though it did not hide the worry in her face.
“Yeah. I promise,” I replied, feeling the gravity of her reprimand. “I shouldn’t have let the voices get the better of me. It just felt, I don’t know, intoxicating to finally go toe-to-toe with Dullahan.” My admission hung heavy in the air.
“Voices, what?” she responded, her tone devoid of mockery. “Are you hearing things? I know you can talk to undead, but I don’t think there were spirits around to convince you to go full suicide mode.” Her concern deepened, her earlier frustration melting into genuine worry.
“It was happening when one of those reversed bells tolled,” I explained. “When it rang the second time—” But Ichni cut me off.
“There was no bell, Adrian. I don’t know why, but if you heard the bells of the Demon God’s Cathedral that Dullahan mentioned, then you were being tampered with by someone at the castle. Maybe Father, or Onshi… someone was trying to force you to take you and Dullahan out in one go.” Her words were laced with suspicion, piecing together the fragments of our harrowing ordeal.
“The Demon… God?” I echoed, eyes wide and confused, unsure if I’d heard her correctly. She nodded solemnly, but before I could delve deeper into her explanation, a guttural grunt emanated from my side. A hulking mass of green muscles began to shift upright beside us.
“Ugh, freakin’ hell…” Quen groaned, finally managing a scowl. Lying on her side, she touched her bruised face and shot me a sharp look. “Hey, Mr. Hero. Think ya got a little sidetracked back in the fight, ya moron. Next time ya go full psycho, I’m torchin’ ya back to your senses.” Her blunt reprimand cut through the tension, adding a touch of sarcasm to our dire situation.
I gave a sheepish smile to my begrudging ally, who seemed torn between being impressed and utterly annoyed by my antics. “Yeah, sorry about that. Didn’t realize that using the fel Element was going to trigger a BDSM session with no safe words.” My attempt at humor was met with less than enthusiasm.
“A what? Damn it all, ya speakin’ more nonsense again, ya damn loon,” she retorted, a chuckle escaping her despite the circumstances. “Least you got some sense to apologize. Take that as my own little win.” Her retort was a brief respite from the pain, a flicker of normalcy in our bloody aftermath.
“Hey, you owe me like twenty apologies too, y’know!” Ichni declared, grabbing my face with an indignant grip. “And each one is going to cost interest until I get every single one!”
“Thank you for saving me, Ichni. I owe you more than apologies.” I replied with an earnest look at her. I heard her pleas when I entered berserker mode, but I couldn’t bring myself to face her then. I hated myself as much as I hated Dullahan at that moment, but in an act of sheer stupidity, I turned from the one person who always seemed to have my back.
“You mean the world to me, and I promise I won’t leave you behind like that, ever again.” I re-equipped the gemmed gauntlet. The ruby gem flickered back to life, and the demon pupil inside seemed to blink in silent gratitude as it touched my hand.
“Thanks for believing in me, princess.”
“W-well, if that’s all you can m-muster, I suppose that will have to do, then!” she stammered, her cheeks flushing a dark pink. “Don’t be spouting stupid stuff after our first big boss fight, though! I don’t want it looking like I’m at a funeral if I’m going to get confessed to!”
I blinked, understanding her frustration. Instead of correcting her, I let my sheepish grin do the talking. Her cheeks puffed up in response, a mix of embarrassment and residual concern.
“Ghoul n’ a ghosty, sittin’ in a tree…” Quen began chanting, a rare grin breaking through her tough exterior. I shot her an embarrassed look, and she chuckled before clutching her side in a mix of mirth and pain.
Taking a deep breath, I let it out slowly, relishing the sensation despite the agony. My heart felt like it had exploded, the pain almost unbearable, yet it was the reminder that I was still alive. I was drenched, battered, covered in mud and possibly my own piss, but I was still fucking alive.
I turned to scan the river and caught sight of the menacing dreadknight doctor—the one who had tried to prescribe me a lethal dose of suffering. The rain had long ceased, and the clouds were parting to reveal the last fiery streaks of sunset, yet there he stood, an unholy figure amidst the fading light. Steam hissed off his battered body, remnants of the holy sprinkle that had tormented him earlier.
Despite his own grim appearance, he remained eerily calm. He wasn’t glaring or cursing, nor showing any signs of his murderous intent. Instead, he wore a stoic expression, cold and collected, observing my every move with unnerving stillness.
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Then he attacked with Shattermourne. I flinched and curled as the whip-like blade swung ominously across the river, barely grazing the opposite bank. He swung again, and again, as if testing the sheer length of his reach, forcing me to recoil each time. He began shouting with a gaze of pure desperation, as though he too couldn’t believe we had managed to escape him once more.
When he finally paused, I saw neat gouges in the mud, several meters away from my legs but frustratingly out of reach. He clicked his tongue in annoyance, as though still hoping to land a decisive blow despite his compromised position.
“We’ll need to move soon, Adrian,” Ichni said, her eyes swollen with lingering shock. It was clear she was reeling from the turn of events, but her tactical mind snapped into action. “We may have stalled him, but he'll hunt us day and night if we stay here.”
I spat the remaining blood from my throat, refusing to move. My body screamed for rest, and I was damn ready to collapse again right where I stood. Yet, Ichni nudged me persistently, like a stubborn cat demanding breakfast, and I began to stir reluctantly.
“Nay, princess. Tend to their wounds. I’ve been soundly, and utterly, defeated,” came a soft, yet cracked voice. It was Dullahan.
“So I was right? You can’t cross this river? I had completely guessed, but I wasn’t sure! Ahahaha! Well, it’s a good thing I’m so smart then, huh Addy?” Ichni admitted, shrugging snarkily at her risky gamble.
I was ready to chuck the gauntlet over the river at these words. “So… it’s true, Dullahan? Can’t jump, swim, or…?” I stammered, wanting to confirm this bizarre truth. Asking a villain who wants me dead if I was safe felt as awkward as questioning an alcoholic about their last drink.
He drove his unholy greatsword into the ground, a reluctant concession. “Not only that, I am proficiently cursed to not be able to touch or cross running water. My true weakness, as it were. Oh, the humility.” His words dripped with sarcasm, mocking his own defeat.
“Not even a lil shower, huh…” Quen finally stammered, pointing a finger at the Lieutenant. “Bet ya could peel the paint off an outhouse without breakin’ a sweat.”
“Mein teufel, Quen, he just lost a fight to a creek!” Ichni chided, a smirk playing on her spectral lips as she eyed Quen’s half-hearted insult.
“Alas, even if I were to head into town and grab a harpy to fly over, you three would be long gone by then. Right?” Dullahan said with a straight face. We hesitated. “Right?” He repeated, clearly expecting us to acknowledge that his master plan was as foolproof as a chocolate teapot.
“Uh, right!” I responded, forcing a confident smile that wobbled like the rabbit slime’s ears. “Thick into the unknown!”
“You’d have to search every nook and cranny of this realm to catch us!” Ichni added, her conviction wavering like a candle trying to stay visible on a windy night.
“I know more hideouts n’ caves than you’ll ever know about,” Quen added, her voice hardening as I appreciated her signature moment of seriousness. She winced as a wave of pain washed over her but quickly straightened her face. “Ya’d spend more time wanderin’ holes than I did with yer mother.” Her insult was sharp, earning her a reproachful look from Dullahan.
“I am going to burn your shop to the ground, blacksmith. I will make sure every scrap of iron there is used to build a coffin for the two of you, and I will bury you alive in it to let it sink into this very river.” Dullahan said, equally as serious. I shivered, but Quen and Ichni must have been used to these idle threats.
“Regardless, you cowardly Paladin, you’ve beaten me fair and square. I would have used every dirty trick in the book to defeat you, so I don’t detest you for your… tactics. Taking advantage of my curse though…” Dullahan gripped his side, eyes darting away as if avoiding an awkward compliment. “That will irk me until we meet again. I’ve found myself a worthy opponent.” His declaration was both a taunt and a grudging acknowledgment of our unexpected resilience.
“Her highness spoke very brazen of you, but I still can’t get a read on you,” I suddenly blurted. “One moment you’re a hot mess, the next you’re a cold-blooded serial killer, and now I see something akin to a caged lion trying to act civil while its prey lurks just out of reach. What the hell is wrong with you? Were you always cursed like this?” My frustration spilled out, laced with both confusion and exasperation.
He turned to me, and for once, I didn’t feel fear. There was a very human look in his eyes, his mouth partially open as if searching for the right words. It was like he wanted to say something profound, but whether it was pride, loyalty, or his very nature, he held back, unwilling to betray his lack of humanity.
“My curse has survived me longer than time memorial,” he finally answered, his words layered with hidden meaning. I sensed he wanted to elaborate, but he shook his head. “It is no matter. My love for His Majesty will compel me after a quick break for the Headless Ham & Cheese bagel sandwich!”
He declared, flicking what remained of his cape. With a swift motion, he pulled the hilt away from his dirt-embedded sword, causing the blade to collapse into a flurry of magic dust. As he did so, he let out a genuine, hearty belly laugh, facing the road ahead with a mix of frustration and amusement.
“To think, your gods would make mockery of this fateful day. Rejoice! The day is yours, my newfound rival,” he proclaimed with a sigh. Suddenly, the sun began to rise over the city, bathing everything in a beautiful gold-lit morning. Did the world seriously skip night time?
Ichni sprang back into the conversation before Dullahan could make his dramatic departure. “We’re going to keep fighting, Dullahan. We’re going to get stronger, and one day we won’t run.”
“I pray for that day to come sooner than any other,” he responded, his voice tepid yet convincing.
“Wh-what?!” Ichni stuttered, bewildered that her heroic declaration was being acknowledged by our mortal foe.
A brown pouch was flung into the air as Dullahan thrust something towards us, and the bag landed by my side. That fucker could reach us!
“Here. A prize for your resonant victory,” he said, casting a side-eye glance. A black jewel glinted ominously from the pouch as Ichni and I peeked at it.
“... WHAT? Adrian, take that!” Ichni ordered frantically.
“Wait, are you sure? I might be a trap!” I retorted. It was an evil-looking gem, eerily similar to the one in his sword! Maybe it steals souls, or curses someone to defecate uncontrollably, or—
“The princess will know what to do with that demon heart,” Dullahan assured us. Quen examined the treasure, grunted dismissively, and rolled onto her back.
“Where did you find this?” Ichni asked, her eyes still fixed on the ominous crystal.
“In the royal archives, the guards were quite distracted when you were fleeing the captain, you see,” Dullahan proudly declared as he began walking away. While it meant nothing to me, Ichni struggled with her words, her expression a mix of confusion and regret.
“You got this, for me?” she finally asked, but Dullahan ignored her. She repeated herself, and still he offered no response.
“Why, why now, of all times, you stupid jerk!” she finally bellowed, but he quietly continued on his way. After a moment, though, he paused and turned back towards me. His mouth moved, and though he was at a distance where I shouldn’t have heard him, his words whispered into my ears like a cold wind.
“Adrian… if I may call you that,” he mumbled softly. “Protect her with your life. Follow your oath. She is everything.”
“What? What is he saying?” Ichni exclaimed in desperation. “What are you saying?!” She screamed, tears streaming down her face, but he was soon out of sight, a lone speck of dust in an ocean of gray and black—a field now a graveyard of every plant that once thrived.
While his side of the river was nothing but death and despair, I realized that our side was alive and well. We were battered, torn, and bruised, but once again, we were alive. We had hope and an adventure still ahead of us. It wasn’t over just yet.
His words still lingered in my mind as I tried to calm the ranting Ichni, who was cussing up a storm. Quen rolled over as though she was trying to sleep against a snoring husband. I couldn’t help but smirk, proud that I had managed to stick it out with such a ragtag band.
Protect her with your life. Follow your oath.
“I will. Guess I should still stick with the Oath of Protection, then,” I finally replied, and succumbed to exhaustion, passing out against the tree.
“Oh come on, you just woke up, you murakka~!” Ichni wailed, trying to shake me awake, but to no avail. This no-good princess will just have to wait.