Novels2Search

Chapter 15

Two years. The vibrant greens of summer had bled into the fiery hues of autumn, painting the Beast Territory in shades of change. Lou's horns, once mere nubs, now sported a respectable curve, a testament to the relentless training. Yet, a gnawing frustration gnawed at me. Half my time was gone, and I hadn't reached the damn milestone.

But time, even wasted time, had its benefits. My stride was lighter, my reflexes honed. Now, I was a blur of motion, weaving through the ancient trees in pursuit of a monstrosity: an Eldritch Terror. Six meters of pure nightmare lumbered ahead, its three arms flailing as it tried to escape. Its skin, the color of putrid swamp water, bulged with every labored breath. Five mismatched eyes, some reptilian, some insectoid, darted around in a panic. It was grotesque, terrifying... and strangely, mouthwatering.

The memory of its last capture still lingered – the succulent, otherworldly flavor unlike anything I'd ever tasted. It shouldn't be possible, but the memory fueled my pursuit. This time, I wouldn't just chase. This time, I'd catch it. Not just for training, but to prove I wasn't just another waste of time in this damned territory. And to eat it… Yeah, I wanted to catch it so I could eat it, so what?

Lou matched my pace for a moment, a considering look on his face. "Think you can snag this one yourself, Bug?" he rumbled, his voice laced with a challenge.

My chest puffed with a mix of annoyance and exhilaration. This was it, the test. "I'll see what I can do," I gritted out, the very words he craved to hear. More than just catching the Eldritch Terror, I yearned to outrun the fastest Flow-Beast in this cursed forest.

Years of Lou's gruff tutelage flooded back. With a snarl of focus, I honed the Flow through my legs, a surge of raw power coursing through them. The familiar tingling sensation intensified, morphing Flow into raw, physical speed. I blasted forward, the gap between me and the lumbering Eldritch Terror shrinking with each desperate leap.

Behind me, a rustle of leaves announced Lou's abrupt retreat. The lazy git! "Don't you even want to see me faceplant?" I grumbled under my breath, momentarily distracted.

That distraction nearly cost me dear. The Eldritch Terror whipped around with surprising agility, its maw agape in a horrifying roar. A colossal arm swiped at me, a sickly green wind whistling past my ear. I reacted on pure instinct, launching myself upwards in a desperate leap.

My foot found purchase on the slimy hide of its outstretched arm. With a surge of adrenaline, I propelled myself onto the pulsating mass of its head. A guttural yell ripped from my throat as I channeled the Flow once more, kicking the beast with all my might.

The Eldritch Terror staggered back a good five meters, a surprised gurgle escaping its maw. Progress! A sliver of a smile tugged at my lips despite the danger. Maybe I wasn't a complete failure at manipulating the Flow after all.

A flicker of morbid realization dawned on me. Maybe, just maybe, I could actually kill this monstrosity. The Eldritch Terror bellowed again, the sound a primal scream of defiance. It lurched forward, its speed noticeably increasing as if fueled by sheer terror.

"Not so fast!" I roared back, adrenaline surging through me. With a practiced flick of my wrist, the Morphblade materialized in my left hand. No time for fancy flourishes – my focus narrowed to a singular point – the hilt. Flow pulsed through my veins as I channeled it into the weapon, molding it into the glorious form of Death's Tear.

This wasn't your average scythe. This one was forged from the very essence of Flow, granting me a terrifying arsenal of techniques. But speed, not destruction, was my priority. Frustration gnawed at me as the Eldritch Terror continued to pull ahead. How could such a hulking beast move with such terrifying agility?

Gritting my teeth, I raised Death's Tear high. With a surge of Flow, the blade elongated with a sickening snap, transforming into a shimmering ribbon of pure energy. The leading edge slammed into the trunk of a tree, the Flow ribbon embedding itself with a satisfying thunk. Before the Eldritch Terror could react, I yanked on the hilt, the Flow-forged weapon pulling me forward with inhuman speed. I zipped through the air, a blur of determination, and slammed into the side of the fleeing beast. The Eldritch Terror screeched in surprise, its lumbering form momentarily thrown off balance by my sudden appearance.

A cruel smirk played on my lips as I raised the Morphblade, materializing Death's Tear once again. The weapon got back to its first scythe form, the ethereal glow revealing its menacing form. "Looks like playtime's over," I rasped, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart.

The Eldritch Terror, its eyes wide with terror, attempted to turn, but it was too late. With a deadly grace honed through years of training, I swung the scythe. The blade, infused with potent Flow, carved a clean path through the creature's flesh. A surprised gurgle escaped its maw before it collapsed in a heap, the silence that followed broken only by my ragged breaths.

With a flick of my wrist, I channeled the Flow back into me, the fearsome Death's Tear dissolving back into the unassuming black hilt of the Morphblade. Slipping it into my pocket, I surveyed the fallen Eldritch Terror. Dinner was secured, and a delicious one at that.

Filling my lungs to capacity, I unleashed a bone-chilling scream that echoed through the trees. Birds scattered in a flurry of feathers, and even the smaller Flow-Beasts scurried for cover. "Lou!" I bellowed, my voice hoarse but triumphant. "Get over here! Time to cook!"

Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

It wasn't long before a rustle of leaves announced his arrival. A wide grin stretched across my face as I pointed at the still-warm carcass. "Look what I got!" I boasted, a surge of pride warming my chest.

Lou's expression, however, was far from impressed. A deeper frown creased his brow, and he let out a sigh that ruffled the leaves around him. "Seriously, Bug," he rumbled, scratching the back of his head with a grimace. "Screaming isn't exactly discreet..."

He lumbered closer to the Eldritch Terror, his massive sword glinting in the dappled sunlight. With practiced ease, he began to dismantle the creature, his movements transforming the monstrous corpse into manageable cuts. As the sizzling aroma of cooking flesh wafted through the air, I couldn't help but admit it – for a gruff hermit, Lou sure knew his way around a campfire meal. He was almost giving Dad a run for his money, which was saying something. A surprised snort escaped my lips. Who knew this dude could be such a culinary genius?

The stew bubbled merrily in the cast iron pot hanging over the crackling fire. Its aroma, a symphony of spices and savory meat, filled the clearing, making my stomach rumble in anticipation. Finally, Lou ladled out two steaming bowls, and we settled down around the flickering flames.

As the first spoonful touched my tongue, a guttural moan escaped my lips. "Pure heaven," I breathed, already reaching for another.

Lou, uncharacteristically jovial (his eyes were actually 75% open!), chuckled. "See, I told you you'd like it." He paused, a mischievous glint in his remaining eye. "Speaking of which, remember that bottle of red wine we found last time?"

My brow furrowed. Wine? Father had specifically forbidden it. "Uh, yeah..."

"Think it would pair nicely with this stew?" he prodded, his voice laced with a hint of temptation. "Kids nowadays probably start having it around nine, right?"

I shook my head, the deliciousness of the stew momentarily forgotten. "No way. Gotta keep my body clean, you know? Those are Father's orders."

Lou's playful demeanor vanished. He let out a frustrated huff and rolled his eyes, a movement that seemed alien on his gruff face. "Always Father's orders," he muttered. "You're eight, Bug, not five. Learn to think for yourself."

My jaw clenched. "Hey," I snapped, a flicker of anger sparking in my chest. "I'm the one who's eight, not some ancient grumpy troll. Maybe you should listen to me for a change!"

Lou's lips thinned into a hard line, and for a tense moment, only the crackling fire filled the silence. Then, a low growl rumbled from his throat. "Arrogant Bug," he muttered, his voice laced with a dangerous edge.

The final bite of stew scraped against the bottom of the bowl. Lou's gaze, however, remained fixed on me, unrelenting and heavy. Under his scrutiny, I felt a prickle crawl up my spine, a pressure that choked off my appetite mid-chew. Was he trying to intimidate me? My hand hovered over the empty bowl, the urge to hurl it across the fire a growing temptation.

Finally, unable to bear the silence any longer, I met his stare head-on. His eyes, usually half-lidded, were wide open, boring into mine with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine.

"What are you looking at?" I snapped, my voice laced with a dangerous edge as I threw the bowl on his face, “You’re freaking me out!”

Lou flinched, a surprised "Ow!" escaping his lips as a rogue chunk of stew bounced off his forehead. He rubbed the spot gingerly, a grimace twisting his features. "Jeez, Bug," he grumbled, "you used to have some manners."

He sighed, a deep rumble that seemed to emanate from somewhere deep within his chest. "There's something about you, Bug," he rumbled, his voice low and serious. "A feeling I can't quite put my finger on."

My heart hammered against my ribs. A feeling? What feeling?

"You're just eight years old," he continued, his gaze unwavering. "But you fight and train like a seasoned warrior. And it's not just the skills. You make decisions, speak with a maturity that belies your age. Remember our first meeting? The way you spoke... it sent chills down my spine." He paused, his brow furrowed in thought.

"Bug," he began hesitantly, "this might sting a bit, but... you're not just talented. You're different. Unlike any kid I've ever met."

“You’re so different most people would want to have some space between you and them.”

A bitter smile twisted my lips. Lou's words weren't meant as a compliment, but a stark truth. Different. Isolated. Just like in my past life. A wave of unwanted nostalgia washed over me, a memory of hushed whispers and fearful glances. A humorless chuckle escaped my throat, a stark contrast to the crackling fire.

Pulling my knees closer, I buried my face in them, a sudden wave of loneliness crashing down. "Lou," I mumbled, my voice barely above a whisper. "Do you know that… normal kids start school at five?"

It was a question loaded with unspoken longing. For the first time, it felt like someone was truly listening, someone who wouldn't flinch from the darkness lurking beneath my surface. Lou. He was here.

"Six years in elementary," I continued, my voice stronger now, a quiet defiance replacing the despair. "Prep school for three. Secondary school for four. Baccalaureate exams, universities, careers..." I listed them off, each milestone a brick in the wall I'd never get to climb. "Friendships, laughter, tears, memories..." My voice trailed off, a bittersweet ache settling in my chest. "That ordinary life..."

I pulled back, staring into the flickering flames. "And yet..."

A lump formed in my throat, threatening to spill over into tears. I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing the moisture back. Lou couldn't see me like this, a fragile child instead of the hardened fighter he was training. A shaky breath escaped my lips, a silent victory against the storm brewing within.

"And yet," I rasped, my voice thick with emotion, "that life... it was a dream for me. An unreachable, heavenly dream." The words tumbled out, each one a confession of a yearning that had festered for years. "Ordinary. For all these years, I've craved the ordinary, but fate seems to have other plans." A bitter chuckle escaped my lips, devoid of humor. "It's as if my destiny is carved from a different stone, a path forever out of reach."

Silence descended, heavy and thick. Finally, I dared to peek up at Lou. His usual gruff demeanor was gone, replaced by a profound empathy that mirrored my own pain. Those single, bleary eyes held a depth of understanding I hadn't expected. He was listening. He was truly listening.

A surge of conflicting emotions overwhelmed me. The vulnerability was raw, a wound I hadn't meant to expose. Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to a decision. With a sigh, I rolled onto my side, my back facing him. "Goodnight, Lou," I mumbled, my voice choked with the emotions I desperately tried to contain. This needed to stop. I needed to reclaim the stoicism I wore like armor in my past life.

"Yeah," he replied softly. The rustle of leaves told me he was standing up. "Night..."