Chapter 26: Gentle Breeze
…?
What the…
Young Knight Barry was momentarily out of it, still trying to process what just happened when bl**d splattered across his face, turning his dark vision a deep crimson in an instant. The familiar, warm, and rich smell of bl**d filled his nose, and Barry instinctively clamped his mouth shut, raising a hand to shield his eyes.
His brain felt like it was spinning from weakness and lack of oxygen, and a sharp buzzing continued in his ears. He could feel the person riding him go limp and roll off to the side. In a daze, Barry looked through the bloodied gaps between his fingers and saw that the head of the fallen person had been severed, with bl**d gushing like a fountain from the gaping wound in his neck.
Thump, thump…
Thump, thump.
He could hear the pounding of his own heart.
That person is dead…
“Cough, cough… cough!”
Thick, clotted bl**d clogged his throat as he coughed while scrambling through the mud, kicking the corpse pinned against him aside. Clumsily, he crawled a couple of meters, his head still foggy, propping himself up with his elbow. Instinctively, he looked up, gasping for air, his wide eyes darting around in panic.
Then, a few meters away, he spotted a small figure wrapped in a gray cloak standing between the crushed grass, one hand gripping the neck of the last pursuer, lifting him out of the mud.
“Uh… ugh…”
The man seemed to want to beg for mercy, but no sound escaped his lips, his eyes bulging out just like his companion’s a moment before.
The sudden appearance of the gray cloak seemed to intend to yank the man off the ground, but alas, its height was limited. Even with its right arm raised high over its head, the pursuer’s feet still dragged hopelessly along the ground. No one would find the scene particularly amusing; to Barry, the man, much taller and sturdier than the cloaked figure, looked like a little chick caught in the talons of a hawk, desperately flapping, yet unable to escape those slender hands that could belong to a woman or a child. In the next moment, the man’s expression twisted in agony.
Crack!
With a clear and dull sound of bones breaking, the man’s neck was easily snapped, his head drooping down like a discarded rag, and “whoosh,” it was flung several meters away into a mud puddle, twitching before going still.
Who is…
A child…
Barry’s mind went blank.
He saw the gray cloak turn to glance at him.
That glance made all the hair on Barry’s body stand on end.
The wide hood was lifted slightly by the night wind, revealing a bizarre, grinning fox-like mask. bl**d dripped from its protruding mouth, shimmering unsettlingly in the dark, and the hollow eye sockets glimmered ominously with bl**d-red, emotionless gaze.
Barry didn’t know how to meet such eyes.
It felt like his scalp might explode; in that moment, he was overwhelmed with a sense of being as pitifully weak as an ant, easily squashed underfoot.
He froze, petrified on the muddy ground, utterly paralyzed, legs trembling like jelly, his mind refusing to process anything. The figure before him didn’t feel human; it felt like a ferocious, terrifying beast from a devouring abyss.
I can’t run anymore…
Barry slowly closed his eyes.
If this person intends to k*ll me…
No matter what, I would d*e…
There isn’t any space to struggle…
Forget it…
Dying here isn’t so bad…
Despair washed over him as he awaited the approach of d*ath. However, a few seconds later, he heard footsteps moving away, followed by a “bang” sound that startled him out of his stupor. He opened his eyes to see dirt splattering up ahead and a figure shooting skyward like a cannonball.
“Fly… fly…”
It’s flying…
The gray cloak has taken off… it’s flying away…
It spared me…
Why didn’t it k*ll me…
A swirl of chaotic thoughts flashed through his mind as he sat there in disbelief, until he saw that figure land in the manor where they had previously clashed. Shortly after, he faintly heard screams from that direction. Suddenly remembering something, Barry clumsily climbed to his feet, clutching his bloodied, muddy hand tightly, his choice made: he wasn’t going to keep running. Instead, he hobbled back, limping towards where his fallen companion lay.
He finally reached his ally’s side and, ignoring his own injuries, knelt with a thud.
“Woo… woo…”
In the night, a choked, painful whimper escaped from this big boy.
His companion was already gone.
Through tear-blurred eyes, he saw his friend lying on the ground, eyes bulging, face pallid, tongue hanging out, and two trails of tears mixing with the mud—forever entangled.
The person who had killed him lay not far away in a pool of bl**d, a deep wound in his chest exposing bone, staining half his clothing dark red. He lay there motionless, but…
It seemed he had a faint breath still.
Barry stared at him, a shadow of anger crossing his face.
“Ughhhh—”
He roared as he charged, picking up the fallen man’s long sword, hacking away madly at the killer’s face and body. bl**d sprayed everywhere, meat was shredded, bl**d splattering into his mouth, but Barry didn’t care. He recalled his own madness when he had killed a heretic in a similar rage, that burning fury and mix of despair suddenly reignited in him.
He hacked until the body was butchered beyond recognition, until his arms were too numb and trembling to lift the sword anymore. Only then did he wheeze and stop.
Clang—
In a fog, he tossed the sword aside, spat out some bl**d and phlegm, then stumbled back to his companion’s side. He tried to tidy the dead man’s clothes, but his trembling hands made it impossible. He even attempted to close the man’s eyes, but they wouldn’t shut, bulging too much to close.
“Why…”
“Why ahhhhh—!!”
Barry let out a heart-wrenching wail, tears that he’d held back for so long finally rolled down his cheeks, splattering on the ground.
The chilly night breeze blew through the grass.
………..
When the corner of the gray cloak returned to his side, Barry the knight had already passed out, sprawled over the body of his dead companion, tears on his face, holding the corpse tightly as if afraid of losing it again.
“…Hoo—”
Seeing him in such a state of unconsciousness, I couldn’t help but sigh under my mask.
A dirty body, tattered clothes, a gaunt, ghostly face.
I remembered when I last saw him in the infirmary; he looked just as ragged then, but there was a spark in his eyes, filled with hope for the future.
Now he was a mere shadow of that.
And perhaps, that’s for the best.
I had arrived just in time.
Shaking the bl**d off my hands, I looked around, ensuring all nearby had been taken care of, and then squatted down to check Barry’s injuries. Seeing nothing too serious, I pulled out my water flask and let him drink some; the dazed Barry gulped down several big swigs. I didn’t let him have too much, then cleaned the wound on his hand with the rest, tore off a corner of the cloak to bandage it, and then lifted him onto my shoulder.
Light as a feather…
He must have gone through a lot.
Alright…
What now?
I felt a bit troubled.
For now, let’s just get out of here…
I flew back into the air, taking a couple of moon steps back to the manor. Standing on the highest wooden beam of the scaffolding, I pulled off my hood and gazed toward the brightly lit night city, pondering whether to take care of him back home or find another spot outside the city.
Neither option seemed difficult for me.
But before I could decide, I suddenly noticed a shadowy figure clumsily ascending a dirt slope far away, lit by the sparse moonlight; it seemed someone was creeping over the rise.
…Huh?
I blinked in surprise.
Looks like they’re coming this way…
Just then, the figure lost their footing, tumbling down the slope with a “thud,” dropping whatever they had been carrying. It seemed like quite a tumble, as they struggled to get back up.
“Pfft.”
I couldn’t help but exhale a chuckle.
It was pretty clear that it was a woman…
I could guess who she might be.
