He felt it in his last moments. The dying serpent used its life in an attempt to end his. Its jaw clamped down against his body. He felt his skin tear from the bone as he tried to rip his arm from its teeth. Muscles scraped off and the pain seared into his mind. His bones finally crunching underneath the force. The mark screamed into his mind as it swam across his skin and onto his remaining flesh in an effort to look for refuge, unknowing of the fate that awaited them both.
They passed out.
Yet the Devil had a dream that he was surrounded by flames. A mighty serpent god ambushing a demon, its fires baptising the realm and cleansing it of all that was unholy. The heat charred his skin and closed his wounds, his mark protecting his eyes from the blaze in an effort to survive; hoping the god would ignore such a pitiful creature.
When he awoke the flames had calmed. The god had left, as too had the demon. When his mind cleared and he looked for his leader, all he saw was a bunch of human kids looting the aftermath. But he couldn’t move. Not yet. The Angicor’s flames had prevented his death by blood loss but the exhaustion was still there. His mark didn’t react and its influence grew small.
He saw a human youth grow frightened of a serpent’s eyes and the relief when he figured out it was dead. Another roused his anger when he saw her steal the sapling, and another break of its teeth. His heart sped as he watched them harvest the flowers and his Will burned when he realised they wanted to leave.
Weaklings. Scavengers. Lowly Humans. Picking up their pieces. Taking advantage of their blood. They infuriated him. Infuriated them. His eyes grew cold whilst he watched the leader scan the room even as they tried to leave- something his own did. He hated them. His mark grew active in their fury, spreading across his skin and returning to his arm socket-
He would kill them all.
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Ryke heard the ‘corpse’ slide against the stone floor some thirty feet away. A pressure filled with rage and vindication emanating from its figure. He saw the black tar crawl across its skin and to the place a limb used to be; flowing into shape and replacing what was lost. Pale skin that seemed to be rippling in place and eyes filled with an unmatched fury.
“Run!”
He shouted out no sooner than the devil rushed forward. Its vigour quickly took over the room and stifled the air, reminding the kids that whilst it was near death, the devil was still of the Second Ring. Forced to follow after the escaping Devil and Angicor, the youth rushed out of the cave, into the narrow and winding tunnels. Ryke remained at the back and did his best to make sure no one went the wrong way or got left behind, but he could hear the Devil catching up. It’s body was recovering ever so slowly. As time passed, it only got stronger and stronger than them. A sword of damocles condemning them to death.
Something had to be done, he just didn’t know what. His mind raced as he watched his companions run. The fear, the worry, the resolve they all carried. He remembered his own hopes. Would he be able to slow it down? Would his death keep them all alive? He was the most injured. He was at the back. Odds are they wouldn’t notice until they had long escaped.
Ryke couldn’t resolve himself to that. He had to leave Jekan. Find his father. Prove his worth as a Centurion. Prove himself worthy of his Cinefran Blood. To his people. He couldn’t let down Sigmar. Himself. His eyes narrowed whilst his heart steeled over, the pure golden Aurelius flame growing hints of azure as it burned bright within his chest.
He pulled an Ignar Peony out from his pouch as he ran, took a deep breath and shoved it into his mouth. The leaves dissolved on his tongue and turned into a sap-like liquid that quickly sank into his stomach. Then he felt his body catch on fire. His vitality caught flame as it cycled through his pathways. With explosive speed his vitality spread across his body. He felt it burn new pathways to his eyes and then felt his vision abruptly clear, unknowing of the literal flames appearing within his pupils threatening to drown out the gold.
Coming to a sudden stop, he bent his knees and swung the glaive behind him. A metallic screech rang out as the devil, caught off guard, was sent tumbling back after using the arm formed from the mysterious black tar as a shield. Without speaking it lunged forward again, using its claws as weapons. It felt the blazing vitality radiating from Ryke’s body and matching the Ardor Realm, but it reminded him of a dying flame- one without fuel or permanence. They immediately became locked into battle, neither budging an inch. An unstoppable force versus an immovable object.
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Every exchangled blow used up more of Ryke’s strength while the Devil slowly recovered his. The young Centurion used his range to his advantage, but he felt the fire weaken with every strike. Something was lacking in his vitality and it didn’t quite match the true Ardor Realm. Pushed back as he blocked another claw strike he fought through the pain and ripped his arm from its sling. Feeling the bone shift further and further out of place with every attack, he didn’t know what to do.
He had fought for mere moments and even if he died here- he needed to make sure the Devil wouldn’t catch up with his team.
His eyes followed every movement. Every shifting stance of the opponent in front of him. The transfer of force for every attack. His responses got faster. He knew how the Devil attacked before it struck and he knew just how much force was needed to block.
Sidestepping a claw he slashed out with the glaive and, for the first time, left a gash across his opponents chest. Blood dripped down the devil’s skin and somehow he looked even paler. The shaft of the glaive blocked another lunge and left the blade right above the Devil’s head, albeit it ducked to the side just as Ryke brought the blade down.
It sped along the length of the weapon and got up close, forcing Ryke to pull the polearm back to defend yet he didn’t make it in time. With a shout the Devil reeled his arm back into a punch and sent his full force out. He could do nothing but defend with his broken arm. His grip quickly faltered amidst the roar of pain and the blade’s edge clanged against the ground. Stepping back just in time to avoid the full claw, he felt the Devil’s nails rend through his chest piece and into his flesh. Three long streaks of flesh ripped from his body as boiling blood began to flow.
The pouch of Ignar Peonies opened up between his fingers, barely finding the strength in his arm to bring more of the herb to his mouth. He brought his other arm up, glaive in hand to block a downward slash and left himself open to the stab of the devil’s other hand. Shifting just enough to make sure the strike avoided any vitals, he felt his enemy’s hand pierce through his side. His ears were long filled with ringing, his sense of touch replaced only by the sensation of burning. Even as he swallowed down two more peonies and felt another sense open up, his ears bleeding, he focused on one thing. The look of fear in his rivals eyes.
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“He’s gone.”
“The hell do you mean he’s gone?”
“Ryke. He’s not behind us anymore.”
The group were rushing through the endless tunnels beneath the mist, witnessing the vast amounts of carnage left in the wake of the Angicor’s rampage. Crimson flames and shattered stone, even the floor beneath them had been carved out in the shape of a raging serpent. The sound of the clash in front moved further and further away, yet they could hardly tell with just how loud it was. Only Lycus noticed, eventually, the lack of another pair of footsteps and the newfound sound of metal striking metal from behind. He couldn’t help his eyes as they teared up.
Caius nearly faltered in his steps, unsure of what to say. He could only voice his confusion. “Did he fall behind? He wasn’t injured-”
“To give us a head start.” Kievra interrupted, her eyes staring ahead.. “That Devil can only be matched by an Ardor Realm with the speed to match. I would not be surprised if he ate an Ignar Peony as the Lanista suggested.”
“So he’s dead.”
“That’s not assured-”
“Dead!” Lycus repeated Kievra in response, shutting Caius up for good. None looked happy about their agreement and Kievra appeared stone faced as usual. Even Caius looked at Lycus with weird eyes, hardly hiding the near disgust in his expression.
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Newfound strength and energy filled his veins as he slashed at the devil once more, leaving a bone deep gash along its flesh arm. Backing away to avoid the counterattack, he felt more alive than ever. Every swing whistled through the air and the Devil found no respite amidst his fury. It could no longer afford the effort to keep recovering, simply doing its best to stay alive under the Centurions attacks. Its skin no longer protected by the natural armour of the devil’s mark, it’s fur doing little to defend against the burning vitality.
The blood leaking from Ryke’s wounds escaped as steam, the Endless Tide Scripture doing it’s best to cool his body even as the raging fire energy burned it into steam. His veins slowly charred black whilst he ignored the pain of his broken arm to use it as a shield against the rare counter the unknown Devil managed to make. His vitality closed the wound at his side and every other one created with haste- simply cauterising them shut from within. Ryke didn’t notice his body withering, too focused on delivering that one last strike to end the fight.
He could see it. Feel it. The flow of battle, the moves of his rival. The will to cut. He screamed as the boiling vitality burned within his throat and stepped aside to avoid one last strike from the tired Devil. He brought his glaive down from above, its blade aimed for the clavicle. He saw the panic and fear replace his opponents eyes as the polearm cleaved into his body and rend it asunder. Joy threatened to well up within him as he saw the life within the devil’s eyes be snuffed out; yet the emotion was snuffed out as he vaguely recollected someone's words.
His arm felt limp and his vitality continued to burn within his chest, wild and out of control. Exhaustion overtook his mind even as his body was flooded with energy. Closing his eyes, he could only do his best and attempt to bring his vitality back under control, lest the flames consume him from within. It wasn’t long before his world became black.