Ordyntsev rushed toward Kaede's voice, diving without hesitation into the greenish fog. In the same instant, his throat was unpleasantly scratched by acid vapors, but the earthling's body easily coped with such mild poisoning.
There was an interesting point here. More than three and a half years had passed since he arrived in this world. During that lengthy period, he underwent countless changes. Mystical energy, prana, emerged within him. And even the holiest of holies - his consciousness - was transformed.
Could one say that somewhere there still existed the original Stanislav Ordyntsev, or had this world ultimately claimed his life?
Replace a man's arm with a robotic one, and he remains a human. Replace his entire body except for the brain with machinery, and he's still a human in a robotic body.
But what if you replace even a small part of the brain? Can one still consider him a human in such a case?
A couple of seconds later, Ordyntsev was bending over the sprawled Leviathan, supported by the kneeling Kaede.
Tears stood in the yokai's eyes, and she could hardly contain them at the sight of the heavily breathing snake.
Ordyntsev looked better, but there was bitterness and pain in his eyes, too.
Although Jirobu's strike did not cleave the serpent in two, having passed along the body, it nevertheless penetrated deep enough to significantly damage the intestines and part of the right lung.
As it turned out, in the heat of the battle, Kaede secretly managed to catch the unconscious snake, saving her from falling into the acid.
The yokai didn't tell Stas about this to avoid distracting him from the fight.
While the battle ensued, Kaede tried to hold the edges of the wound with her blood-covered fingers, preventing the organs from spilling out.
But the cut was too long, and she couldn't manage it well.
Regardless, as soon as Stas saw the damage, he immediately set to work, knitting the injured tissues together and stemming the bleeding.
Under his hands, the flesh fused back together, mitigating the most critical damage.
But the problem was not only the severity of the injuries. After all, one could hardly call Levi's body ordinary, despite any desire.
She was a magical beast, and such creatures were known for their great resilience.
But as mentioned before, apart from the physical injuries, there was also supreme poison. It was the concentrated venom of a warmaster whose clan specialized in creating poisons and acids.
Its danger was extraordinary, and it didn't matter that its originator was dead. His creation continued to kill. And removing it seemed impossible. At least for now.
Having dealt with the primary injuries and somewhat mended the skin, Stas reached into his thigh pouch and pulled out several of the most potent antidotes. Some of them immediately went into the mouth of the unconscious Levi.
"Shiro, we don't have time," Kensei appeared grimly beside him. "The Hyugo samurai and Sansa are almost here. We can't stay here any longer."
"Understood." Ordyntsev tensed and hoisted Levi's hefty coils onto his shoulder. Kaede bustled next to him, frantically winding the rest of Levi's body around Stas's arms and neck so it wouldn't drag on the ground.
The snake was so long that, in the end, the yokai had to tie her tail almost in a knot to keep it secured around his waist.
"I told you, you need to eat less," Stas involuntarily hissed, bending under the weight. And ahead were still hours of strenuous running.
Kaede giggled nervously at Shiro's dark humor, anxiously watching the two individuals dear to her heart. And there were not many of such in her life that she could afford to lose even one, let alone two at once.
"Forward!" Surviving warmasters, receiving orders from Jishin, readily dashed towards their positions, demonstratively leaving the headless body of the Sansa clan leader on the rock.
Meanwhile, the head, placed in a sack, bounced and swayed on Jishin's belt.
Behind them all, Stas ran heavily. The weight on his shoulders bent him to the ground, and fatigue muddled his thoughts.
Indeed, with full prana reserves, such a run wouldn't have been impossible. But after such an intense battle, his strength was far from abundant.
Because of this, with each hundred meters passed, he fell a little behind, distancing himself from the other warmasters. The snake's coils pulled him down, making him breathe heavier and drench in sweat.
The armor, to which he had become accustomed over the years, suddenly felt unbearable again, constricting and squeezing in its embrace.
Had Ordyntsev not been so exhausted, he would have noticed the admiring and ecstatic glances that the other advanced warmasters showered upon Jishin.
But far more interesting was that such looks, albeit not as intense, were also directed at Kensei, Shin, and Stas himself.
In the eyes of ordinary warmasters, they had achieved the nearly unthinkable - they had killed a supreme warmaster as a group of four. And none of them had even been severely wounded!
Supreme warmasters fought with other supreme or an army - there were no exceptions to this rule. But the younger prince had become such a remarkable exception.
As had the other three.
And if before, the creepy healer with serpentine eyes was known for having fought a real dragon and survived, now another amazing feat would be added to his reputation. Unlike the dragon, this one was beyond doubt, as they had seen it with their own eyes.
However, not only Stas had problems with prana and strength.
Among the advanced warmasters, there were a couple of wounded ones who also couldn't keep up the pace. Despairingly, they watched as their comrades went further and further, leaving them to certain death.
And behind them, the pursuit had already unfolded. Yes, they had managed to break away. But it couldn't last forever.
"Halt!" After some time, Jishin's shout made everyone stop and gather around the prince.
Stas, gasping for breath, leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees. This way, he wanted to relieve his back at least a little.
"Shiro, just hold on; I'll help you right now," Kaede whispered softly, picking up part of Levi's coils to lighten the weight on the healer's back for a while.
Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.
Stas could only nod in thanks. For the last twenty minutes, he had been running on sheer willpower, barely even seeing where he was going. They were lucky that a hidden root or stump hadn't appeared on his path.
Nonetheless, he hadn't even thought of abandoning Leviathan. Perhaps it was utter foolishness. From a logical point of view, which Stas so loved, it made no sense for the two to die together. But the man simply couldn't do that.
Not to Leviathan. His debt to her was so great that he intended to carry her as long as he could.
Jishin's serious gaze swept over the people standing before him. When his eyes lingered on those warmasters who were the most wounded or tired, their foreheads were covered with cold sweat.
A young woman, one of the two wounded, turned as white as snow. She was terrified of what she might hear.
Everyone understood that with the pursuit behind them, they were nothing but dead weight. And they had been warned at the very beginning of this mission that it could happen.
But still, no one wanted to die covering the retreat.
During this time, Ryo and Naoki looked indifferently at the frightened advanced warmasters. Despite a rather tense battle, they had enough prana not only for escape but even for a small fight.
After all, the Avasaki were not keen on fighting to the death.
Finally, Jishin's eyes settled on the weary Stas. He examined the snake's coils, then looked back at Ordyntsev.
Their gazes met, and no words were needed to understand what they were thinking.
The younger prince immediately realized that Shiro would never leave his pet, and so Jishin had to make a swift decision.
"I'll carry Levi myself," Jishin extended his hands toward the surprised Stas and expectantly looked at the unconscious snake.
"Master," Naoki unexpectedly interjected into the conversation. "We still have a long way to go. You're tired, and caring for some snake might endanger your life."
Ordyntsev frowned, committing this particular warmaster to memory. It could be said without embellishment that he now strongly disliked the man.
"I've made my decision," Jishin cut off, taking Leviathan's coils and winding them around himself. "Now you," he turned to the advanced warmasters. "If someone can't run, they will be helped by those who feel better and have the fewest injuries. Today is our victory, and no one else will die!"
The prince's words greatly inspired the gathered fighters, and a part of their former fire returned to their eyes.
"Prince," Naoki spoke again after a pause. "If you are firm in your decision, then I can carry the snake. I feel much better than you..."
"No. Your strength will be needed if the pursuit catches up to us. You must hinder them in every way. I'm not saying to sacrifice your life, just to slow them down. And that's only if they catch up to us. Is everyone clear?"
"Hai!"
"Then forward."
And again, a desperate race against time, lifting legs that were filling with lead.
It wasn't hard to understand why Jishin had made such a decision. Ordyntsev saw in the prince looking at him an intention to apologize.
The battle that had occurred allowed Jishin to make a decision, and he felt awkward about what he had said to Stas earlier. Leviathan's injuries had also not left him indifferent. Jishin had grown fond of the eternally optimistic snake and was not inclined to abandon her.
The fate of the other warmasters... By and large, it was decided by association.
But even though Stas had dropped the heavy burden, it didn't help him for long. Fatigue returned and did so with new force.
Despite the training, Stas's prana reserves were lacking. Kizashi's pills had long since stopped working, and now the "hangover" was gradually setting in.
Jishin was also clearly tired, but even with the new burden, he felt better than Stas.
In a way, Ordyntsev was even grateful for this insane run, as it didn't allow him to dwell on the bad. All his strength went into moving his legs.
Therefore, when Naoki looked back and said, "The pursuit has retreated." – Stanislav didn't feel any emotions.
But others were not so composed. Some of the advanced warmasters joyously hugged each other, finding the strength to do so, looking at the weary Jishin with shining eyes.
The latter even tried to straighten up and look more confident.
"Everyone, it's too soon to relax. We're returning to the camp. It's not far," the prince's tone was strict, but a light smile was easily seen.
Their crazy plan had succeeded, and they had won.
So why did the taste of this victory feel like graveyard dust?
*****
"Banza-a-ai!" A wave of ashigaru clashed with another such wave of ordinary people. A disgraceful scuffle ensued.
Slightly to the side, dozens and hundreds of arrows whistled through the air - there, samurai on horseback exchanged fire, twirling into peculiar whirlwinds that occasionally touched edges. Not all of them could control prana, so they fought like ordinary people.
However, there were those who leaped tens of meters upwards, sending down glowing blue prana blades. Hits from such projectiles left deep pits with sharp edges on the ground.
Other samurai engaged in incredibly fast duels, competing in swordsmanship. The speed of such clashes was so great that it could impress even strong warmasters.
The strongest samurai of the two countries fought to the death because this was the last battle.
There was no further retreat.
The Hyugo Country had been completely captured by Rashta, and the remnants of the samurai, ashigaru, and warmaster forces were pressed against the border of Hogoro, the country inhabited by the great air clan of Avasaki.
A little further away, wooden fortifications burned with smoldering smoke. With a crack, part of them tilted, then wholly collapsed, scattering sparks and ashes in all directions.
In the distance, a forest was also burning - there, Kiatto and Sumada clashed to the death under the leadership of the elder prince. On the other side, the ground hissed with spots of acid and poison.
Goro Sumada's son methodically crushed any resistance, pushing forward.
Nevertheless, for such a grand battle, there was relatively little damage from techniques, and the Sansa clan hardly fought, soon making it clear why.
"Lord Hurogo!" A richly dressed samurai, who had just powerfully cleaved two of his opponents with a sword technique, was approached by a messenger. "Sansa and Kiatto have betrayed us! They fled and stopped holding back Sumada! Our flanks are exposed, and we are surrounded!"
"Damn cowards!" The samurai's face paled with the rage that filled him. The boiling fury was so strong that the capillaries in his eyes instantly popped, and a sweeping wave of bloodlust engulfed the area, from which weak ashigaru or even samurai rolled their eyes and, foaming at the mouth, fell to the ground.
Daimyo and samurai did not rule the world by mere chance. Yes, thanks to better training and the presence of elemental techniques, warmasters were much stronger one-on-one.
But there were simply far more samurai, and secondly, among them were warriors like Hurogo Koshta, equal in strength to a supreme or at least a veteran warmaster. And there were far more of them than supremes.
Nonetheless, hope was gone. With the death of Jirobu Sansa, it was only by some miracle that the warmasters stayed in the camp and waited for the battle to begin. But as soon as they were pressed, they immediately crumbled and betrayed.
The Daimyo was dead; his wounded son had disappeared without a trace and, judging by indirect signs, was most likely also dead.
There was only one thing left.
"Samurai of Hyugo!" Hurogo's trumpet voice descended upon the entire battlefield. Prana-enriched voice chords and lungs were covered with tiny wounds from such strain, but Koshta didn't care.
He had other plans, and a long life no longer figured into them.
"Our lord is dead, and the country is captured! Sansa and Kiatto have lost their honor, if they ever had any, by running away! So let's show how true samurai die! For Lord Keiji Kato and Hyugo! Banzai!"
The very second, the atmosphere on the battlefield changed instantly. All the surviving samurai of Hyugo seemed to forget they were made of flesh and blood.
They rushed forward, completely neglecting defense. They impaled themselves on enemy swords, dropped their intestines on the ground, lost their heads, but still managed in their last wild frenzy to deliver deadly blows to their enemies.
For the tens of minutes that this monstrous slaughter continued, Rashta's forces and the warmasters suffered more losses than in all the previous battles combined.
The furious surge of the Hyugo warriors caused the hearts of the Rashata samurai to experience real fear because, unlike the former, the latter had won and had something to lose.
But such a suicidal tactic has one major drawback - those who use it die very quickly.
"Ha-ha-ha..." Hurogo Koshta gasped heavily, surrounded by samurai and even Sumada. His entire body was covered in numerous wounds. His armor had turned into a sieve, but he was still alive.
Most of his people had already been killed, and the rest were being finished off right now. Soon, their heads would be chopped off and put into pyramids, demonstrating the greatness and valor of Rashta.
As for his own head, Hurogo was unsure. It would probably go to some high-ranking noble, maybe even the Daimyo himself.
"Hurogo Koshta!" A samurai of official bearing stepped forward. "Our Daimyo, Kiryo Otomoto, in his great generosity, offers you to come under his command. Your skills are too good to let them rot in the ground."
"I am grateful to... Daimyo Kiryo Otomoto... For such generosity, but I will never betray my lord! Therefore, I refuse!" By the end, Hurogo managed to catch his breath and immediately declined.
"The Daimyo respects your opinion," the samurai nodded. "Do you want to perish in battle, or shall we give you time and place for a harakiri ceremony?"
"In battle."
"So be it."
Koshta didn't wait for the attack, leaping forward himself. He managed to rejoice when his blade cut through one of the throats before dozens of swords lifted him off the ground and then sliced him into many pieces.
Thus, the samurai of Hyugo perished, filling this world's insatiable maw with their meaningless sacrifices.