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Dynasty's Ghost
Chapter 82: The Sum of All Emotions

Chapter 82: The Sum of All Emotions

As the sword cut down, into his back, Casari emitted a grunted cry, a scream from all his soul.

He was not dead; the strike had been mostly absorbed by his leather armor. But he was now in even greater pain.

Mai’s arm burned his hand, but still, he did not let go. He held on like his words were true, like she really was all he had left in the world. His eyes were tightly closed, and his face winced, even as the tears continued to flow.

And suddenly, truly noticing all of this, Mai became unsure.

Was this really all an act?

Mai didn’t know. She didn’t know anything, but nevertheless, she had a choice to make, now.

She could die, and, if Casari was mortal, cause him to die as well, or she could live. She didn’t know if Casari was telling the truth, or not, and if he was a demon and a liar, he knew just how to play her, but if he was a man…

In a burst of understanding, Mai realized she had to hope that hope. She had to trust that perhaps, all this time, Casari had been doing the best, he could, walking through the maze of life, just as she was.

And suddenly, Mai stopped struggling. The fire on her arm died.

She did this, even as the Makini soldier, above, raised his sword for a second strike, one that would surely end Casari, if he were a man.

“Damn me to hell if you use me to kill the world,” Mai whispered. “But save me now, Broken.”

Her words were so soft, Mai, for a fleeting instant of terror, didn’t know if Casari heard them.

But then, he acted. With strength Mai knew not from where, Casari fell backwards, to his feet, planting himself firmly on the ground, and pulled Mai up, in a single burst.

Mai found her feet on the platform again.

The blow that the Makini guard had been aiming missed wildly, as the soldier looked about in confusion.

He looked at his fellows, who stood upon the platform, en masse.

And then, Casari drew Aurasing, and with the strength of pure rage, lopped the Makini’s head off.

The decapitated guard fell to the ground in a clatter of armor, and the soldiers, jerked out of their shock, came at Casari, numbering in the dozens.

Mai just stood there, as the guards ignored her, the weaker one, to concentrate on the man who seemed unable to be brought down.

But even as she stood there, all but ignored, Mai saw the truth, as the guards circled around Casari, hacking at him with their blades. She saw the truth, even as his master swordwork cause two of the guards to fall backwards, into their pools of blood.

She saw the truth, even as, more than that, she saw Casari falter, within the pressing crowd of opponents. One of his counter strikes was too slow, a second too slow, and a sword ripped a gash in his side. Casari, eyes red from former tears, favoring his left hand, limping, and with gashes across his chest, would not be able to win this.

Casari, who Mai had once thought invincible, could not defeat a horde, alone.

Mai knew what she had to do.

She entered the fray.

The Makini did not expect her to do more than stand there, as a trophy waiting for the victor to claim. But that would not be the case, any longer.

Mai came at one of the guards from behind, locked an arm around his neck, choked him, and then grabbed his sword out of his suddenly weakened grasp. She released him, kicking him forwards, into his fellows, and then used her sword to ably parry a tentative sword strike from another guard.

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She spun around, kicking another Makini in the chest, and sending him flying off the platform, into one of the waiting pots. He screamed, as his body melted, and Mai grimaced, but she did not have the time to think about what she had done.

She had just killed, for the first time in her life, committed an act that even a year ago, she would not have been able to comprehend, and her first thought after she did as much, was that she had to kill more.

Mai found two guards against her, but she rushed out of their trap, coming between them. She slammed the hilt of her blade into the back of one’s head, crumpling him, and then twisted, to defend against the retribution of the other.

As the sound of sword strikes reverberated through the great factory, Mai realized she was holding her own, in a duel against a warrior.

She didn’t have time to think about that, either.

Suddenly, Casari came around from behind her, and slew her opponent with a quick flick of his blade. Up close, he looked to be even more of a wreck than he had from a distance. But he still fought on.

A lull suddenly came to the battle.

As Mai looked around, she saw the bodies of a half dozen guards on the floor. Those remaining, perhaps three times that number, did not seem eager to confront Casari again.

And they indeed had a reason to wait.

Two golems were lumbering up the stairs, one from each staircase, to the platform. The guards clearly had decided to wait for the heavy reinforcements, before surging forward, once again.

Horribly, Mai knew that plan was sound. The golems would be more than enough to defeat her and Casari, given the pathetic state they were in.

Casari, still holding Aurasing proudly, above his broken frame, turned to glance at Mai.

She looked into those gray eyes, and she knew he was no demon. Small mercies. They were going to die, together.

Casari then turned to look at the soldiers, who had formed a semicircle around them. The ledge formed the rest of the perimeter.

“We are cornered,” said Casari, as with his right, mangled hand, he reached for something at his belt, wincing as he did so. “But there is a reason why you feel the need for golems to end us; there is a reason why you will not advance, against a cripple, and a girl.”

He paused. “Because we will not die before your blades, cowards. We will not allow ourselves to.”

From his belt, he withdrew something that looked very much like a small, single hand crossbow. There was rope coiled around it, however, unlike the similar weapon. Casari pointed it at a point on the ceiling.

“And will not allow ourselves to die at the hands of the golems, either.”

He sheathed his sword, and gestured for Mai to grab onto him. She did so.

And then, Casari turned around, and pulled the trigger.

Rope uncoiled and shot out, like a snake, darting for its prey. Mai realized what the device was. It was a grappling hook.

The hook at the end buried itself into a wooden beam. Casari leapt from the platform, and Mai, holding tightly onto him, had no choice but to do the same.

They flew, over the pots, where Mai thought she saw the hints of a dissolving skeleton, and over the rest of the building, to the far side, by the door.

All the guards had clustered around the platform, where Casari and Mai had been. And now, as they swung to the unguarded door, far faster than any of the soldiers could run, and certainly far faster than any of the golems could plod, Mai saw the ingeniousness of Casari’s sudden plan.

As they neared the end of the arc, Casari released the grappling hook, and he and Mai fell five feet, to the hard ground, right by the open door. But they were up in an instant.

The two of them, tired, exhausted, and suffering, raced out from the building, into the streets of Xiater.

The streets, where even now, it snowed.

The streets were covered in white. Winter had come early this year.

Upon the street, lost, and confused, the two of them drew stares from the passersby. Different guards, guards on foot, and guards on horseback, began to circle on their position, as the passersby edged away.

Casari nearly doubled over, as he handed Mai five vials, with his left hand. “We need a distraction,” he muttered. “I’m too weak to throw…”

In a glance, as she took the vials, Mai knew who they belonged to. Eton. There was a story behind that, Mai was sure, but she didn’t have time to ask, yet.

She knew where Casari wanted her to throw the vials. She turned, and heaved them in the direction of the factory, with all her strength.

The vials shot inwards, through the open door.

For a moment, there was silence, and all on the street looked at Mai oddly. Casari looked to be in very bad shape. Even with both her arms, Mai could barely support him.

And then, a distant rumble issued forth from the giant factory. Mai remembered how deadly it had been to the Ascendant, when Eton had thrown upon it a single vial. This was five.

Fire spewed forth from all the windows, shattering them, and then the building exploded into flames. As shards of metal rained forth upon the snowy ground, and Mai knew she had condemned all within the building to death. But because of their deaths, she and Casari would live.

It looked so odd, for Mai, as she gazed upon the conflagration, as she supported Casari’s ailing weight.

A nova of fire, in the middle of snow.

Then Mai turned, and, dragging along Casari as best she could, ran.

Amidst the chaos, no one noticed them, anymore.

It was twilight. Casari, weakly pointed Mai in the direction of a stables, now in the heat of the chaos, unguarded, and Mai brought him inside, and loaded the both of them upon a horse.

And then, using all of her skill, Mai rode them away.