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GUHIN
Chapter 9: Give in.

Chapter 9: Give in.

As Bokun and the huntress faced each other, her hollow gaze locked onto his.

With a final, resolute nod, Bokun charged, his movements a blur of unbridled force and fury. The huntress raised her hand as dark energy swirled around her fist into a powerful, destructive force. As they closed in on each other, the air seemed to vibrate with the intensity of their impending clash.

The two forces collided in an explosion of power and energy, the impact sending shockwaves through the battlefield. Lightning crackled in the sky, the storm raging with newfound fury as the energy from their clash rippled outward, tearing through the ranks of the remaining hunters and sending them flying.

For a brief moment, it seemed as though the two were evenly matched. Bokun’s raw power, fueled by his Berserker state, held its ground against the huntress’s dark energy. But then, slowly, the tide began to turn.

The huntress, agile and precise, began to outmaneuver Bokun. Her attacks grew faster, her blows more devastating. She weaved around his heavy strikes, her nimble body darting in and out of his reach. Each time Bokun missed, she retaliated with bone-crushing force. Their blows became a blur, almost vanishing in the storm’s fury. Dents appeared in the dark armor of the huntress, but Bokun fared worse. Cuts and bruises marred his skin, blood seeping from his wounds as the relentless barrage took its toll.

Finally, after Bokun missed another heavy strike, the huntress countered with a powerful blow to his stomach. The force of the impact sent him flying through the air, his body crashing down in front of Guhin. As Bokun struggled to rise, the Berserker state faded, leaving him gasping for breath with his strength drained.

Bokun spat out a mouthful of blood as he struggled to push himself up. His muscles screamed in protest, but he managed a grim smile. "That... was a good fight," he muttered, his voice rough, more to himself than to anyone else.

His vision blurred as he glanced up toward the hill where Etro stood, the massive steed stomping its hooves and neighing loudly, the sound echoing across the battlefield. I did my best, my friend, he thought, a sense of peace settling over him despite the pain that wracked his body.

Drawing on the last of his strength, Bokun forced himself to his knees. A warrior didn’t stay down for long, no matter how battered he was. As he managed to rise, he turned his gaze toward Guhin and was taken aback by what he saw. Guhin, was crying—tears streaking down his face, mixing with the blood seeping from his mouth where he bit down on his lip.

He’s crying? Bokun thought, a brief flicker of confusion breaking through his exhaustion. They didn't know each other beyond their battle, yet the sight of Guhin’s tears stirred something within him. But he couldn’t dwell on it for long. The sound of approaching footsteps drew his attention back to the huntress.

She was closing in, prowling almost. As she neared, her hand stretched out, and from her palm, a blade of pure darkness began to form, the air around it crackling with malevolent energy. Her gaze shifted from Bokun to Guhin.

Guhin’s heart pounded in his chest as he watched the scene unfold. The weight of his necklace pressed down on him, the darkness clawing at his mind, pulling him deeper into the abyss. He could feel the cold tendrils of despair wrapping around his thoughts, threatening to consume him. Let me take over... the darkness whispered, seductive, charming almost. You can save him... If you give in.

His eyes darted to the giant warrior, Bokun, who had nothing to do with Guhin's fate, nothing to do with the curse inside him. And yet, if Guhin allowed the hunters to kill him, Bokun would die too. His fate would be sealed because of Guhin’s choice to surrender. Even if Bokun was just a murderer, a Royal Guard, or just some wandering scum of the earth—none of it mattered. Guhin had sworn that no one would die because of him.

The darkness surged again, whispering its seductive promises. Give in. You know what to do. Let me out and save him.

The huntress, rested the blade’s sharpened edge on Bokun’s neck, but instead of fear, Bokun found peace. This was his end, a warrior’s end. "Finish it..." Bokun murmured, a faint smile touching his lips as he welcomed the gift of death. There was no sadness in his heart, only the anticipation of meeting his ancestors in the afterlife. As he felt the cold blade being lifted from his skin, he closed his eyes.

The blade in the huntress’s hand began its deadly descent, the world seemed to slow, each second stretching into eternity as Guhin’s vision darkened further. The struggle within him reached a breaking point. Let go... whispered the darkness, with haunting clarity, as if its voice screamed inside his mind.

Guhin clenched his fists, his nails digging painfully into his palms. Save him! his mind screamed. The veil of darkness closed in as Guhin watched the blade almost sink into Bokun’s skin. Move! The thought echoed louder. I told you, you win! Just move! Save him!

The veil of darkness fell over his sight, and in that moment, he surrendered. The tight hold he had kept on the beast within snapped, and the floodgates opened. A primal, violent force erupted from deep within him, and his body reacted before his mind could catch up.

Just as the final blow was about to land, an immeasurable force blitzed past Bokun, too fast for the naked eye to see. Bokun caught a fleeting glimpse of something—something cloaked in shadows, moving with inhuman speed and power, that tore through the battlefield.

The sheer velocity of the object sent ripples through the air, warping reality in its wake. Bokun watched in stunned silence as the huntress was obliterated, her body disintegrating into nothingness. For a brief moment, sound ceased to exist, leaving only the aftermath of the devastation.

The impact was catastrophic. Fierce winds surged behind Bokun, pushing him forward as an explosion of force erupted in front of him. The shockwave blew his mouth wide open as he shielded himself from the incoming debris.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“What in the nine hells is going on?!” Bokun shouted, adrenaline surging through his veins, dulling the pain of his wounds. Above, the storm clouds seemed to retreat, the relentless rain coming to an abrupt halt, as if nature itself recoiled from the force of the blast.

When the winds finally began to subside and the dust began to settle, Bokun coughed violently, his eyes wide with disbelief. The devastation around him was beyond imagination.

The huntress, along with everything in her vicinity, had been obliterated. The once sturdy trees, massive boulders, and the remaining hunters had been reduced to mere dust, scattered in a trail of destruction that stretched for hundreds of feet.

Amid the smoldering ruins and debris, Guhin stood alone, his figure eerily still. The air around him hummed with the lingering energy of the explosion, a heavy tension hanging over the battlefield.

Bokun’s breaths came in ragged gasps as he slowly approached Guhin, each step weighed down by exhaustion and the residual adrenaline coursing through his veins. The battlefield was eerily quiet now, the relentless storm having receded in the wake of the earlier devastation. The silence was almost suffocating, broken only by the crunch of Bokun’s boots in the debris-laden mud.

As he neared his greatsword, still embedded in the earth, Bokun rested his hands on the hilt. The familiar weight was a comfort, a reminder that the battle was over. But this… this was something else entirely. He coughed, wiped the blood from his lips with a trembling hand, and steadied himself before shouting hoarsely, “You alright there, Yu-lin? Did… did you do this?”

The echo of his voice lingered in the air, but Guhin remained silent, his back turned to Bokun. A sense of unease crept into Bokun's chest. He could feel something was off. Tension bled into the atmosphere, thick and oppressive, as the air around Guhin shimmered with dark energy. Bokun squinted, trying to discern what was happening.

Finally, Guhin turned to face him, and what Bokun saw sent a chill down his spine. Guhin’s eyes were devoid of any light, and a wave of pressure radiated from him—an invisible force that seemed to bend the very atmosphere itself.

It wasn’t just the intensity of the pressure; it was as if gravity itself had shifted, pressing down on him, making it difficult to breathe. The air around Guhin twisted and distorted, warping in response to the unnatural force emanating from him.

Bokun felt it first as a subtle change in the air—a heavy weight pressing against his chest, each breath coming harder and harder. He gritted his teeth and planted his feet firmly, struggling to keep his balance against the growing intensity. I can't breathe?! he thought desperately, the realization sending a wave of panic through him. His lungs felt like they were being crushed, each breath more difficult than the last.

Bokun tried to stand firm against the onslaught, but the weight was unbearable. His knees buckled as the force grew stronger, and he leaned heavily on his greatsword, using it as an anchor to keep himself from collapsing completely.

As his greatsword began to sink deeper into the earth under the pressure.

The sound of steel grating against stone echoed across the battlefield, a high-pitched wail that set Bokun’s teeth on edge. Sweat poured down his face, mixing with the blood and grime that coated his skin, but he refused to give in.

Guhin slowly crouched down to his hands and feet, with each passing second, the pressure intensified, crushing down on Bokun with a force that threatened to break him. He could feel the ground beneath him trembling, the air itself straining against the unnatural power that Guhin was unleashing.

The sound of steel grinding against stone became louder as the sword continued its slow descent into the earth. Bokun’s muscles strained, his body screaming in protest, but he held on, determined not to be overwhelmed by the terrifying power that Guhin was radiating.

Guhin had shed any trace of his former self, moving with a primal ferocity that left no room for reason or humanity. It was as though the essence of his being had transformed into a force of raw, untamed power. The air around him twisted and warped, bending under the sheer magnitude of his dark energy.

As the crushing force grew more intense. The pressure drove Bokun further into the dirt, until, with a final, agonizing grind, the hilt of his greatsword met the earth.

Just when it seemed that all hope was lost, a soft, rhythmic fluttering, like the beating of wings could be heard. It was faint at first, but it grew louder, cutting through the crushing pressure. Time seemed to slow as Bokun’s eyes caught movement in the sky.

A bird, its silhouette dark against the storm-ravaged sky, swooped down and landed gracefully in the mud before him. It was Fukujin. And as Fukujin's claws dug into the mud, the world seemed to hold its breath.

Fukujin’s wings spread wide, and with a mighty beat, a powerful gust of wind erupted from them. The air crackled with energy as the wind swept through the battlefield, a cleansing force that pushed back against the dark energy enveloping Guhin. The pressure that had been suffocating Bokun began to recede, the unbearable weight lifting from his chest.

Guhin’s eyes rolled back in his head, his body shuddering as if something had been torn away from him. With a final, desperate gasp, Guhin collapsed, his body crumpling to the ground as he fell unconscious, the last remnants of the dark power dispersing into the ashen sky, leaving only the stillness of his fallen form.

Etro, sensing the shift in the air, charged towards Bokun with a thunderous gallop, his massive form breaking through the debris. With a loud, relieved neigh, the steed nuzzled Bokun, his presence a comforting reminder of survival. Bokun, barely able to speak through the pain, managed a strained smile. “Don’t worry, you crybaby. I’m alright,” he rasped, his voice barely more than a whisper.

With a grimace of pain, Bokun grasped the reins, pulling himself up with every ounce of strength he had left. He clung to Etro, his body shaking uncontrollably as he steadied himself. As he turned his gaze over his shoulder, his eyes locked onto Fukujin’s.

The bird’s eyes, mirroring the same profound void that had been in Guhin’s, stared back at Bokun. The depth of emptiness in those eyes was overwhelming, almost as if staring into the abyss itself. For a moment, time seemed to freeze, the silence stretching between them.

Then, without warning, Fukujin launched into the air. The sudden, powerful thrust of his wings startled Bokun, and he staggered slightly as the bird’s ascent cut through the stillness. Fukujin soared into the ashen sky, vanishing into the murky clouds with a powerful beat of his wings.

With Fukujin disappearing into the distance, Bokun’s mind raced as he struggled to piece together what had just happened. His hand shook slightly as he reached into one of Etro's saddlebags. He retrieved a small glass bottle, designed with delicate runes etched into its surface and a stopper sealed with wax. The bottle held a shimmering liquid that seemed to glow faintly, as though it contained a fragment of blue starlight.

With trembling hands, Bokun unscrewed the stopper and took a swig. The moment the liquid touched his throat, a warm sensation spread through his body. His wounds began to close, the torn flesh knitting together and the internal damage swiftly restored with new cells. Despite the healing effect, the scars remained as a testament to the battle he had endured.

He swirled the remaining blood in his mouth before spitting it out, the metallic taste clinging as he examined the nearly empty bottle. The liquid had worked its magic, but the bottle held only a sip’s worth of its precious contents. A grim smile touched Bokun’s lips as he licked the last remaining residue of the hairs on his upperlip.

His attention then turned to Guhin, who was still motionless amidst the destruction. With a deep breath, Bokun unsheathed a knife from his lower back, and with grim determination, began to walk toward the fallen warrior.

GUHIN!