Kazaks met the war elephant head-on, his war hammer swinging with brutal precision. Each impact against the creature's iron-plated skin echoed, chipping away at its armor in brutal increments.
The elephant, sensing its advantage, pressed forward, tusks gleaming and red eyes trained on him.
But Kazaks only roared louder, the force of his war hammer landing against its armored face with a bone-jarring thud.
"IS THIS IT?! YOU CALL THIS WEAPON OF CHOICE?!"
Xertu, perched atop the beast, sneered down at him.
"You're nothing but a cracked shield. This elephant will be the last thing you see."
"THEN I'LL TEAR YOUR 'WEAPON' APART!!"
With a fierce swing, he struck again, the hammer's impact sending cracks spiraling up the elephant's foreleg armor.
The beast let out a screeching trumpet, one leg buckling under its own weight. As it stumbled, Kazaks seized the opening, stepping in close and bringing his hammer down hard on its foreleg.
The armor gave way with a horrific snap.
Beneath it, the bones shattered, and the elephant let out a bellowing cry of pain, its weight shifting as it struggled to stand.
Xertu's grin faltered as he tried to steady himself.
"That hammer won't save you."
"NEITHER THAT OVERSIZED PET!!"
Kazaks growled, teeth clenched. Blood was streaming down his arm, but he paid it no mind, his entire focus locked on breaking the beast.
The war elephant reared back, lifting its good foreleg to stomp down on him, but Kazaks rolled sideways, rising up in one swift motion.
He drove his hammer into the beast's other foreleg with relentless force, each strike calculated and furious.
Finally, the bones snapped, splintering under the weight of his assault, and the elephant crashed down, blood spilling from its leg.
The elephant's breathing grew labored, each exhale rattling with pain, and Kazaks stepped forward, unrelenting.
"Bleed. Bleed. Bleed!! You beast. Let's see if you're all iron and no blood."
He rammed his hammer down on its head, aiming for a gap in the armor, and a sickening crack rang out as blood splattered across the ground.
Xertu, now scrambling atop the struggling creature, was thrown off balance as his dying mount swayed beneath him. Rage filled his eyes.
"This isn't over! This is just the beginning!"
"Then climb down here and fight like a man!"
The war elephant let out one last pitiful roar before its head slumped forward, and Kazaks watched as the creature finally stilled, blood pooling around it.
He looked up at Xertu, breathing heavily, blood and sweat mixing on his brow, but his gaze was fierce, unbroken.
Xertu, now weaponless and exposed, looked down, eyes wide with something between fear and fury.
Xertu's taunts came fast, his voice dripping with fury as he glared at Kazaks.
"That fucking tattoo? Is that your cheat code!? Just another trick to—"
He didn't get to finish.
Kazaks' hammer shot forward, colliding with Xertu's face with a sickening crack, then pivoted to slam into his abdomen, crushing him back into a nearby tree.
"So, you're curious, huh? It's nothing too wild. Just a little something to sharpen the senses—sight, hearing, smell, all of it. Adds a solid punch of adrenaline, too."
The impact splintered the bark, and Xertu's body contorted under the force, gasping in shock.
"It doesn't do the fighting for me, if that's what you're thinking. But it's useful for times like this. So, you're welcome!!"
Kazaks advanced, his face a grim mask, his knuckles white around his hammer as he raised it to deliver a skull-crushing blow.
But Xertu, fueled by raw instinct, twisted to the side at the last second, rolling away from the killing stroke.
He staggered to his feet, grimacing as he reached over with his good arm, yanking his fractured elbow back into place with a crunch. A glint of ruthless determination flared in his eyes.
Xertu sprang forward, a storm of fists flying toward Kazaks.
Each punch came fast and lethal, aimed with savage intent: his abdomen, jaw, temple, chin, cheek, even his neck.
But Kazaks' movements were impossibly sharp, weaving through the assault with uncanny precision, his eyes trained, every punch grazing him by inches as he anticipated each move.
Xertu barely saw the counter coming.
Kazaks' hammer collided with his chin in a brutal uppercut, and Xertu's body lifted clean off the ground, stunned by the sheer force of it.
Kazaks didn't hesitate.
He leapt after him, catching him mid-air, and in one deadly arc brought his hammer down with all his might. The two of them plummeted like a comet, and the earth shook with the impact as Kazaks drove Xertu's body into the ground with bone-shattering force.
The dust settled, and Xertu lay sprawled, utterly still, his body broken and limp, the breath knocked from his lungs.
Kazaks stood over him, breathing heavy, his expression a mix of triumph and restrained fury, staring down at his vanquished foe.
The world around them went silent, save for the faint sound of Kazaks' steady, victorious breath.
Leaning closer, Kazaks muttered, his voice low and steady.
"You learned the weight of my wrath today. But know this—strength is wasted on those who don't know fear."
The red tattoo on his forehead began to fade, dissolving like mist into the air.
Kazaks dropped onto the ground with a heavy thud, landing hard on his back. His war hammer lay beside him as he gasped for breath, sweat dripping down his brow.
He gave a tired chuckle, muttering to himself between breaths.
"Fight after a whole year, huh?"
He shook his head, wiping his forehead.
"Looks like I've got some catching up to do. Who are these guys anyways? Never thought I would be this bloody."
He took another deep breath, a small, worn grin creeping onto his face.
"Can't let myself get rusty now, can I?"
----------------------------------------
Sanaage's focus wavered as he glanced over his shoulder, eyes widening in horror at the sight of Xertu sprawled motionless beside the bloodied, fallen war elephant.
A guttural scream tore from his throat.
"XERTU!!"
Zach seized the moment, stepping in with a swift, unyielding punch straight to Sanaage's jaw.
The impact sent him staggering, a dark bruise spreading across his face as he refocused on the man in front of him.
"Your captain's right here. So look at me."
Sanaage's eyes narrowed, rage and desperation clashing within him.
For a brief second, the air stilled.
Two warriors staring each other down.
One driven by fury.
The other by cold resolve.
Leeani's arrows whizzed through the air, each one deadly accurate.
Sanaage twisted and ducked, narrowly evading the first few arrows, his movements frantic.
All of the sudden, one well-aimed shot sliced through his thigh, tearing through muscle and embedding itself into his knee.
He stumbled, collapsing onto the ground, a ragged scream escaping his throat.
"Argh!"
He yelled, clutching his knee, blood pooling beneath him.
His eyes darted wildly, but he couldn't hide the growing fear in them.
Zach stepped forward, closing the gap with cold, methodical steps.
"Do you understand now?"
He looked down at him with an expression devoid of pity.
"You can't hunt me. Because I have always been the top predator."
Sanaage swallowed hard, his body shaking with rage and terror as he glanced back, seeing Leeani stalking up behind Zach.
She held her crossbow steady, every movement purposeful, her face hard and unreadable.
She didn't flinch as she aimed her loaded weapon directly at him, a calm, calculated resolve in her stance.
"Captain, your orders?"
Sanaage's face twisted in anger, pain seeping into every word.
"You fucking!"
Zach's expression didn't soften.
He bent down, bringing his face closer to Sanaage.
"One more. One more, you won't like how this will end."
Leeani's finger inched toward the trigger, and the tension thickened, wrapping around them like a final sentence.
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Sanaage's laughter broke the silence, a low chuckle that grew into a deranged cackle.
"Hehehe. HA HA HA HA! You think this is over? Soon, they'll be here. Now that you're all tired, breathing heavy, and bleeding. They'll have no problem taking you all down! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!"
Zach's expression remained cold and unreadable, his eyes fixed on Sanaage.
Leeani glanced between them, her face taut with confusion and fear.
"What the hell are you even saying?"
Sanaage's gaze snapped to her, sneering.
"Shut the fuck up, girl."
In a blur of movement, Zach, one hand striking sharply into the base of Sanaage's neck, the other connecting at a precise spot on his temple.
Sanaage's smirk faded as his body went limp, collapsing into unconsciousness.
Zach turned, looking Kazaks over with relief in his eyes.
He and Leeani rushed to Kazaks, who was struggling to get to his feet.
Leeani reached out with her uninjured arm, steadying him.
"Thanks, Leeani."
"Come on, can't have the second strongest among us Sins warriors lying around on the job, right? Ha ha ha."
"You're right."
Leeani carefully released him, letting Kazaks find his own balance.
Zach's voice softened, his expression serious.
"I'm just glad you two are all right."
Kazaks looked at Zach, then down at his own bloodied arms, and finally at Leeani's injured arm, raising an eyebrow.
"Really, Captain? Are you sure? Because from where I'm standing, we're barely all right,"
He smirked playfully.
"Actually, we're a bit of a mess."
Leeani snorted, shaking her head.
"And here I thought you were trying to be motivational."
Zach took a deep breath.
He cast a glance at Kazaks and Leeani, an unspoken sense of relief crossing his face, barely noticeable.
He murmured quietly.
"I'm really glad you two are all right."
Yet, as he looked down, shadows flickered across his expression, memories of the overwhelming darkness creeping back to him.
His voice dropped, a murmur almost to himself.
"But what was that?"
Kazaks and Leeani exchanged looks, catching onto Zach's change in demeanor.
Kazaks frowned and asked.
"Why'd you freeze up, Captain? Before the fight, you were like a statue. What happened?"
Zach paused, the question lingering in the silence.
"It's..." he began, hesitating as the memory tugged at him, images of shadow and cold filling his mind.
But he shook his head, brushing it off.
"It's nothing. Nothing to worry about."
Kazaks narrowed his eyes, unconvinced, but Zach continued, directing them back to practical matters with a firm tone.
"Right now, our priority is making sure they're completely disarmed. We'll bury Sanaage's knives and machete, as well as Xertu's halberd, deep into the ground. If we do this right, their chance of escape drops to near-zero."
He moved quickly into explanation mode, his voice calculating but clear.
"By planting their weapons vertically in the ground, we reduce any leverage they could use to pull them out, should they even attempt it while wounded. It'll buy us time, keeping them off-balance mentally, making any attack less coordinated, especially without their primary weapons. That way, they won't be able to rely on familiar combat styles. Any surprise attacks will be sloppy, lacking power. And when they come to, they'll understand the situation."
Kazaks and Leeani nodded, taking his lead as they all began securing the weapons.
Kazaks and Leeani exchanged glances, then looked back to Zach with a renewed determination.
In unison, they answered.
"Yes, Captain!"
Kazaks rolled his shoulders, catching his breath as he lifted his war hammer.
Despite the bleeding and exhaustion, his grip was firm.
He positioned the hammerhead over Sanaage's twin knives, his movements precise and heavy, each strike driving the blades deeper into the ground, embedding them well beyond reach.
Leeani, meanwhile, took up Xertu's massive halberd. Even with her injured arm, she managed to steady herself, planting her feet firmly to keep the weight of the weapon balanced.
She jammed the halberd into the dirt, pushing it with all her strength. When the blade didn't sink as deep as she wanted, she leaned against it and used her body weight, driving it down as far as possible.
Kazaks watched her briefly, grinning despite the cuts and bruises on his face.
He brought his hammer down again, the sound of metal grating against earth punctuating the silence. With each swing, he looked over at her work, the familiarity of their teamwork rekindling his spirit.
Kazaks planted his hands on his knees, catching his breath, then glanced at Leeani with a nod of approval.
"Gotta say, Leeani, you're looking like quite the warrior wielding that oversized toothpick."
He nodded toward the massive halberd she had just buried with a wink.
Leeani rolled her eyes but kept her focus on making sure the halberd was securely lodged.
"Kazaks, if you spent half as much energy on fighting as you do on talking, maybe you'd be first, not second."
Kazaks raised his eyebrows, feigning offense.
"Oh, so the 'Second Strongest' title doesn't impress you? Next time, maybe I'll just sit back and watch you go head-to-head with a war elephant."
Leeani gave a small scoff.
"Maybe if you practiced using a hammer instead of bragging about it, that elephant would still have its legs attached."
Kazaks chuckled, unfazed, then lifted his hammer for one last swing to drive the knives deeper.
"Remind me not to ask you for compliments."
"You know what they say about keeping your ego grounded."
They turned back to Zach, who had been overseeing their work, his expression thoughtful.
Kazaks and Leeani looked at each other, then back at Zach, who was scanning the treeline with a quiet intensity, his gaze sharp and alert.
Kazaks called out, lifting a brow.
"Uh, Captain? Are you waiting for someone to throw a surprise party out here or something?"
Leeani nudged Kazaks with her elbow.
"I think he's, you know, actually trying to be prepared. Unlike some people."
Zach didn't turn to them immediately but finally spoke without looking their way.
"Just making sure there aren't any more of friends of them, hiding around. Can't be too careful after that welcoming party."
Kazaks grinned.
"Good point, Captain Zach. Hate for them to see us mid-celebration here—wounded, laughing, and all."
Zach's lips curved, barely noticeable, as he relaxed his stance.
"You two done with the ceremony over there?"
Kazaks chuckled, glancing at Leeani.
"All set, Captain."
Leeani nodded.
"Good as buried."
Then suddenly, they heard something.
Rumble of footsteps, growing louder and louder, a chorus of imminent threat.
Kazaks and Leeani instinctively looked to Zach, their breaths uneven, waiting for his next order.
Zach reached into his side pocket, pulling out two strips of bandage cloth.
Without a word, he tossed them in their direction, and they caught them mid-air, their eyes fixed on him.
"Fix yourselves up."
He said, his tone steely but soft.
"Head back to the others. To Ruby. I'll find a way to catch up."
Leeani clenched her fists, eyes filled with worry. "But Captain—"
"Go. Now."
The firmness in his voice left no room for argument.
For a long, silent moment, the three stood there, the weight of what was unsaid pressing down on them.
Kazaks took a deep breath, exchanging a solemn nod with Leeani before they both turned away, each trusting Zach with everything they had.
Tey movhed swiftly, clutching the bandages to their wounds, the distance growing between them and Zach felt heavier with each step.
A part of them wanted to look back, to assure themselves he'd be right there, but they kept running.
This was their Captain.
They had to trust him.
Even if every instinct screamed to stay by his side.
And Zach stood firm, watching them disappear through the trees, their loyalty and courage lingering in the space they left behind.
With his mind racing, he surveyed the clearing, calculating the next move with razor-sharp precision.
He bent down, fingers brushing the cool earth as he sought out two sturdy sticks.
The rough surfaces dug into his palms as he gripped them tightly, a reminder of the imminent threat approaching.
Step by step, he initiated the time-honored process of creating fire.
First, he positioned the sticks against one another, aligning them at an optimal angle.
Next, he began to rub them together with deliberate force, feeling the strain in his muscles as friction began to build.
Then, he focused on the rhythm, each motion honed to a steady tempo, his breath syncing with the movement.
As the wood warmed under his persistence, he felt the air around him shift—suddenly, a tiny spark flickered into existence, barely visible against the encroaching shadows. He leaned in closer, eyes narrowed, intensifying his efforts.
With each deliberate rub, the spark grew, coaxing a fragile flame to life.
"Come on."
After what felt like an eternity, the fire blossomed, its glow illuminating the darkening woods.
With a swift, practiced motion, Zach hurled the newly kindled fire onto a patch of dry grass nearby.
The flames ignited instantly, engulfing the area in a torrent of heat and light.
He murmured, watching as the fire rapidly expanded, consuming everything in its path.
"This strategic move will secure us valuable time."
The small flame quickly found new fuel in the nearby dry grass, spreading outward in creeping tendrils until it reached the bases of bushes and trees.
Within moments, the fire began to grow, stretching higher as it fed off branches and leaves, transforming into a formidable blaze. Smoke billowed from the growing flames, thickening as it rose, gray and suffocating.
It gathered above, forming a heavy, drifting cloud that blotted out parts of the sky, making the air dense and difficult to breathe.
Each new patch of grass or brush ignited in an instant, the fire spreading with a deliberate, relentless pace. The heat grew intense, radiating outward in waves that made the air shimmer and distort, carrying with it the acrid, stinging smell of charred wood and vegetation.
The trees soon stood surrounded by flames, their branches curling as they caught, adding to the rising smoke.
"It will obliterate any traces of our scent from the battle. Their tracking dogs won't be able to follow us through this."
Zach glanced back at the unconscious bodies of Sanaage and Xertu, assessing the fire's progression.
"The blaze will force them to divert their pursuit. They'll be too exhausted and overwhelmed to continue. This will buy us the time we need."
With deft movements, he pulled Sanaage and Xertu further from the flames, ensuring they would remain untouched by the growing inferno.
As the flames grew fierce behind him, crackling and roaring, Zach pulled the worn book from his pocket, his fingers brushing over its rough cover.
He held it close, a sense of unease weaving through his focus, and his voice fell to a murmur.
"So, you're still here, aren't you? In that darkness. What I saw—what I felt. Was that you?"
The book lay silent in his hands, yet somehow he felt its pull, a subtle shiver beneath his fingertips. The memory of the blackness clawed at his mind—the isolation, the shadows stretching endlessly.
"You... knew what I would see, didn't you? That place... it was yours, somehow. Wasn't it?"
There was no answer, yet he felt the weight of something nameless pressing back—watching.
Zach stood at the edge of the inferno, the flames roaring like a beast unleashed. The heat radiated against his skin, a stark contrast to the chill that gripped his heart.
He could feel the book in his pocket, its weight a constant reminder of the past decade spent relying on its prophecies.
But in that moment, surrounded by chaos and destruction, something inside him shifted.
With a sudden determination, Zach pulled the book from his pocket, its pages fluttering in the rising heat.
He looked at it one last time, memories flooding his mind.
Moments of fear, uncertainty, and the heavy burden of knowing his fate.
This book, once a lifeline, had become a chain binding him to a predetermined path.
He had allowed it to dictate his actions, to trap him in a cycle of waiting and watching.
"Enough. I've let you control my destiny for too long. I'm done. I'm just done living in your shadow."
With a swift motion, he hurled the book into the flames. It spiraled through the air, the fire licking at its edges, consuming it like a ravenous beast.
As the flames enveloped the book, he felt a weight lift from his chest, an exhilarating rush of freedom washing over him.
"I refuse to be a prisoner of fate any longer. I'll forge my own path, even if it means stepping into the unknowns."
The fire raged behind him, a fierce beast consuming everything in its path, but it was a necessary fury—one that would buy them precious time.
As he begin running, he couldn't shake the chilling thoughts that clung to him.
What lies ahead? Would he be able to reach them in time?
Zach forced himself to focus, honing in on the sound of their breathing, the rustle of their movements.
"Just a little further."
----------------------------------------
The air thickened with acrid smoke as the warriors stumbled into the chaos, their faces contorted in confusion and fear.
Shouts and curses erupted from the group, echoing through the trees as they struggled to make sense of the pandemonium unfolding around them.
"Where the hell is the captain?!" one warrior shouted, his voice hoarse as he covered his nose with his arm.
"This is madness!"
"What the fuck is this?!"
Flames licked the edges of the forest, crackling hungrily as they spread, consuming everything in their path.
The heat intensified, and some men, caught too close to the blaze, suddenly burst into flames, their desperate screams piercing the chaos.
They ran wildly, frantically trying to extinguish the flames licking at their clothes, colliding with others in a frantic dance of panic.
"Get back! You'll spread it!"
"Get away from me, fucking retard!"
"Get away!"
The chaos only escalated, men darting in every direction, some sprinting toward safety while others ran toward the inferno, seemingly unable to comprehend the danger.
"Damn that Renaissance band! This is their doing!"
"We're going to roast out here!"
As the smoke swirled around them, obscuring their vision and choking their lungs, the warriors fought against the encroaching flames, desperate to find a path through the madness.
Meanwhile, afigure shrouded in a dark cloak loomed at the edge of the turmoil, his presence almost spectral.
He stood detached from the frantic warriors, observing with an eerie calmness as flames danced and crackled in the background, casting flickering shadows across his hidden face.
"Oh, how exquisite this carnage is. Look at them, scrambling like ants, desperate to escape the flames of their own making. It's almost poetic."
He took a slow step forward, the flames deepening around him, as he continued.
"I can already envision the feast that awaits. Their guts, spilling onto the ground like overripe fruit, the stench of blood mingling with smoke."
His voice turned even darker, laced with a twisted hunger.
"I'd carve them open, slice through their bellies with such precision, and feed their entrails to the pigs. Imagine the delight on their faces as they devour what once was a man. It would be a banquet fit for the gods."
The figure chuckled softly, the sound echoing unnervingly in the chaos, sending shivers down the spines of those nearby.
"Their screams will be symphonies to my ears, and the sight of their agony—an art form of pure despair. How delightful it will be to watch them writhe, knowing that their end was crafted by their own folly."
His gaze flickered over the flames, watching as a few warriors stumbled and fell, the fire licking at their feet.
"Soon, soon, they'll all understand what it means to be killed and tortured."
With a chilling grin, he murmured.
"And I will savor every moment of their demise."
The fire crept over the book, its flames dancing around the edges, but just as the blaze took hold, something strange stirred.
From the blackened cover, an eye appeared, vivid and watchful, darting around as if aware of its fate.
The flames licked closer, but the eye held steady, almost amused.
Then, slowly, the eye shifted, transforming, stretching into the faint outline of a mouth—a twisted grin that grew wider, as if savoring this final moment.
"I exist for one reason. And soon, you'll know that reason."
The mouth lingered, curling up at the edges in a macabre smile.
Just then, the flames took it, reducing it to smoke and ash.