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Azrael and the Gate of Madness
chapter 25. Combat frenzy

chapter 25. Combat frenzy

Despite all the injuries, he staggered forward once again. He kicked at her. She ducked and swept him off his feet. Then she positioned herself on top of his chest. Pinning him down, she began to strike.

Left, right, left, right...

She punched and punched and punched. Over and over, aiming for his nose. Green blood obscured her vision. The creature jerked and twitched. Nothing happened. It had no chance anymore.

With every single blow, the face of her brother flashed before her. "This is how you'll end."

After hundreds of strikes, he finally lay still.

Breathing heavily, she sat atop her victim. Slowly, her senses returned. She looked down at herself. Green. She was completely green.

"Applause," Vrael called out, clapping encouragingly. "Have you finally gotten it out of your system, little browny? From now on, we’ll practice this. Every night, I’ll gently knock you out to sleep. Until you have the techniques memorized. No, I don’t mean making people infertile. Nor smashing their faces in. Look forward to it."

Despite his annoying words, they pushed away the darkness. At least for that moment.

After a brief pause, they continued walking, the smell of blood still hanging in the air.

"Master, the blood smells. Isn't there a stream nearby? I want to wash up. Our water supplies are running low, and I’m hungry too," Aria said, looking at him expectantly.

"Want a sip of wine? That helps," he suggested, his tone still light.

"No. Don't bother me," she replied.

"I wouldn't have given you any anyway. It's mine," he grinned slyly.

He held the dark bottle in his arms like a child. "We should be reaching a river soon. If you had used that pretty little head of yours a bit more, you could have figured that out yourself. Living creatures in a group need a lot of water."

"Yeah, yeah. I get it. Don't get all cocky, drunkard," Aria retorted, shaking her head.

"Are we entering the rebellious phase now? Just wait. Tonight, you'll regret that cheeky attitude of yours," he replied casually.

About an hour later, they came upon a small river that flowed gently through the forest. The water sparkled in the sunlight, forming little foamy pools as it ran over smooth stones. Tall grasses and wild ferns grew along the shore, swaying in the breeze.

Here and there, gnarled trees stood with broad, shade-giving canopies, their roots gripping the damp earth. In the clear, crystalline water, she spotted several fish darting between the shimmering light reflections.

"Can we catch them somehow?" she asked, eager.

"Yeah, go ahead. Grab my knife and a branch about two meters long. Split the end crosswise. Then sharpen the four parts. If you haven't done something stupid, you'll have a spear with four points. Simple, right?"

He handed her the knife with a wide grin. She eyed it suspiciously, but before she could react, he gave her a swift shove.

With a high-pitched scream, she splashed into the water. "Oops! How's the water feel?"

"Cold, cold, cold! It's damn cold!" She chattered her teeth as she splashed the icy water at him. Fog swirled around his body before he appeared several meters to the right. "No way. That looks way too cold to me. Go ahead and have your fun. If you're fast enough, you might catch your lunch with your hand."

He slammed the knife into a dead tree. "I'm giving you the knife. Have fun!" he called as he walked away.

Cursing, frustration grew within her, but the fresh water called to her. Before leaving the cool depths, she bent down and let the cold surge over her body. The water felt invigorating, washing away the mud and blood from her battles. She gasped for breath as the cold pierced through her entire body.

With one final splash of water across her skin, she surfaced again. A tingling warmth spread through her body as she dressed behind an old ash tree in fresh clothes.

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First, she slipped into warm undergarments, then she donned a sturdy leather jerkin. In this dense forest, regular cloth clothing would have been a disadvantage. They offered too much target for thorns and branches.

After wringing out her wet clothes, she found a place with stronger wind. There, she hung her clothes, which swayed gently in the breeze, while the scent of damp wood and fresh water filled the air.

Warm rays of light tickled her face. "So beautiful," she remarked, pleased. "Walking through a forest with an old drunk. Maybe being followed. No food. I love it. I feel so free."

She thought back to her "home." "I haven't considered it home since my mother died," she realized at that moment. "My mother..." She quickly shook her head. The past was just that. The past. She was living now, not then.

Her stomach growled suddenly.

"I'm hungry. I think I'll give it a try." Determined, she grabbed her new knife. It already showed signs of wear. A sturdy blade, no more than 20cm long—perfect for working outdoors. She fastened the worn leather sheath to her belt.

After some searching, she found a suitable branch, firm and stable. With a mix of patience and eagerness, she set to work shaping her spear.

Finally, she held her finished product in her hands.

"Perfect." She inspected the long shaft with its four points, exactly as Vrael had described.

"Where's the food?" he called as usual from behind her. She dismissed it as the usual background noise.

Carefully, she crept up on a fish, drifting along the shore, unaware of her approach. "Just wait, I've got you now." Her heart raced with excitement.

Step by step, she continued on tiptoe.

But as her shadow fell over it, the fish darted away in an instant. "Damn thing!"

She tried again. This time, she paid close attention to her shadow and the play of light dancing over the water's surface. The spear thrust downward, but she struck nothing.

"Why isn't this working?" It was frustrating. "They're always faster than me. As soon as I strike, they swim away." She muttered after several more failed attempts.

"What if Master is messing with me? No, this has to work." A new plan began to form in her mind. "What if I slowly lower the spear into the water? Will they be startled then?"

With focused concentration, she tested the technique. This time, her movements were slow and deliberate. To her surprise, the fish didn’t react. Boldly, she inched closer with the spear. When the tip was just a hand's breadth away from the fish, she took a deep breath and lunged.

The spear pierced the fish, and a triumphant smile spread across her face as she hauled the catch safely onto the shore. A brief wriggling was all she felt before she pulled her prize triumphantly to the bank. "Finally!" she exclaimed, the joy unmistakable in her voice.

"Hey, I got it! I caught it!" Her voice bubbled with excitement as she proudly held the small fish aloft. It was no longer than her hand, but to her, it felt like a small victory.

An hour later, she returned to her master, carrying a total of ten fish. She proudly held the catch in front of his face. "Look what I caught!"

Vrael raised an eyebrow as he inspected the fish. "Couldn't find any smaller ones?"

"You get nothing. Catch your own," she shot back challengingly.

"Just kidding. You did well," he replied finally, his eyes gleaming with approval. "Remember the technique. It could help you with assassinations. Some enemies react instinctively to sudden movements. Wait until the last moment, then strike."

Aria nodded, following his words. Though he often taught in a ridiculous manner, she knew that every lesson was meant to prepare her for the challenges that lay ahead.

"We won't get full from these little guys," he said, pulling some line and hooks from his pouch. "Come, I'll show you how to make a hand-line."

For a moment, she wanted to complain about the waste of time. But then it occurred to her that hunting with a spear was a sensible method. She nodded in agreement.

As dusk settled, they returned to their camp. The forest around them was bathed in soft, golden light, and the sounds of nature grew livelier. Birds sang their evening song while the scent of damp earth and fresh water filled the air.

Moments earlier, Vrael had shown her how to gut the fish. At first, it had been a bit gross, holding the slippery bodies in her hands and making the first cuts. But after two fish, that feeling faded. A task like this had never been part of her noble upbringing.

"Finished?" Vrael looked at her, his tone playful. "Come on, we need the dinner before the night completely takes the light from us."

"More like before I starve. The night doesn’t interest me. Finally something different from jerky," she added eagerly.

"So, what do you think, how should we eat the fish?" Vrael looked at her expectantly while they knelt beside the small camp to prepare the fish.

"Oh," she thought, "can we eat them raw?"

He shook his head. "It’s not impossible. If there are other options, you shouldn’t. With this water, it probably wouldn't be much of a problem. To make such a decision, you have to assess the water. Slow flow, dirty water, and algae growth are bad signs."

Aria nodded thoughtfully as she watched the clear, bubbling river happily trickling over the smooth stones. "Understood. What do we do next?"

"We make a pit fire. The pit fire is the stealthiest version. It produces little smoke and light." Vrael began digging two holes a short distance apart, soon connecting them with a tunnel.

"In one of these holes, we’ll make the fire. The other one will serve as the air supply," he explained while working the ground. His hands moved skillfully and quickly, as if he had done this many times before. "Have you ever made a fire?"

"No," she admitted, frustrated by her own ignorance.

"I see. I'll add survival training to your lessons as well. So..." He pulled a shimmering black stone from his bag. "There are several ways to start a fire. The easiest is with this little stone here."

"How is a stone supposed to make fire? It doesn’t burn. You’re just trying to mess with me again," she replied skeptically, crossing her arms.

"What do you think fire comes from?" Vrael countered, shaking his head.

Aria fell silent, staring at the stone in his hand. She had never thought about such things. Fire had always just been there. "I... I don’t know," she muttered, feeling a bit embarrassed.