Chapter 86: Hidden In Hell

Chapter 86: Hidden In Hell

“It is upon each of us to ask if there’s a reason why we go on. With the world so twisted and filled with terror, our ancestors faced many dark days—some lived their lives without seeing the sun above.

When this question inevitably runs through my mind, I keep coming back to the same answer.

I go on for those that could. I face evil for those that never saw it. I stare at the sun in memory of the people who never will, and never had.

This, I believe, is a duty to all Knights.

It is this that you never did understand, Alfon.”

- Luisa Luculentus, Correspondence to Alfon Nitidus (3rd Era, 304)

Getting closer to the White Stag only meant more enemies to swarm and get in their way. Erec got to put his battle axe to work on a new creature every few yards.

In short, it was glorious.

With the Knights at his side, they left a trail of corpses in their wake. Like a dream, a line of bodies marked their path to this point. As Dame Robin led them to their new target, these corpses would water the dry field of death with their lifeblood.

Erec laughed, dodging left from a beam of red light with enough force to slam a shoulder into a centipede-like puppet and cave into its exoskeleton. It tumbled away on a hundred legs as another Knight’s sword dug into its head. “Right—“ Jefferson pulled his sword free and jumped as the ground began to shake.

A massive worm tore from the ground, maw wide as it dived to swallow Erec.

Perfect.

Erec shoved with all of his might and flew past its razor-sharp teeth before they could tear into him, landing right into its insides with a swipe of his axe. Easy kill.

[Air-supply activated.]

Even easier than last time, his axe cleaved through the creature as Knights hit it from the side. Before on the battlefield, it’d been frustrating. An overabundance of targets had amplified the puppet’s lackluster combat—they didn’t necessarily fight better now, but the higher concentration on him was better. He wanted their attention. He wanted them to come at him with more.

His Fury sang; the Knights around him only amplified its flames. They weren’t thinking. Every Knight out there was another weapon. Extensions of death raging around him and showing off their skills.

They were Strong. And he wanted to be stronger.

The pulsating black insides of the worm flashed into light as Erec hacked a hole out of its side. Not even a moment in the sun again until a hound with massive fangs flew at him—Erec grabbed it by the throat and crushed the windpipe, lazily tossing the dying monster into the worm’s torn stomach.

Let it have a last meal.

So many to kill. Erec grinned as he dodged past a red beam—seeing the flash of light a second before it existed. His fire tore through him, making his skin numb yet making him feel far more alive than ever before. His axe sliced, ripped, and murdered. Blood caked his Armor's joints, and his weapon's sharpness dulled from smashing apart bones too many times to count.

How had this power tired him out before?

He could keep going forever.

As long as the flame inside burned, this pace could keep going; each kill stoked it further, letting that hell grow and sear him out. Nothing on this Earth had a chance of taking him down.

They dug deeper into the wasteland, suffering their first loss from a Worm biting a Knight in half. The man should’ve thought to launch himself into it, but he hesitated, so its powerful jaws crunched through his Armor like teeth into a cracker. Another suffered a direct hit from a light beam to his skull—from how he gurgled after and gasped for breath, he’d no doubt melted something important. Erec doubted the man would go on for much longer.

But, the Knight fought to his last breath, collapsing a mile later.

Glorious.

And he saw why.

More than half of the humans here were facing off against their side—all the while, the White Stag looked on past its fence with crimson eyes.

Their strike force turned on one another and struggled against themselves.

A Knight collapsed to the ground as another took off his head with their massive sword in a single stroke.

Further down the line Master Knight from the Crimson Lotus’ flung out binding glyph after binding glyph. They seemed to be doing well until a monster in the background exploded like a liquid firework. A moment later, his bindings fell apart, and the puppets ran free to harass the Master Knight again.

Erec paused, trying to pick the quickest route past the Knight line and to the Stag.

A Knight sprouted wings, shooting above the enemies.

They flew past the fence separating them from the White Stag and Rifts, only for three monsters to explode in a viscera of energy and gore. The Knight's wings gave out a second after the monster's sacrifice, and they slammed into the ground.

Not long after, the Knight got to their feet and turned back towards the rest of the Knights—moving with that same jerky trademark of a puppet being controlled.

[...Proximity? Each explosion generates radio waves, and that Stag is somehow condensing them and then targeting them directly at people.]

Pathetic. Even with fighting so close to it, that weak creature didn’t dare to take a step and bloody its pristine white hide.

I’ll turn it red.

Erec took a step towards the fence. From the corner of his eye, he saw a ghost of a blade flying his way; his body was already reacting, but the puppet was too quick. It’d score a hit.

“No!” Bedwyr’s voice called, his brother flashing into view, his massive blade deflecting the oncoming strike. “Erec?! How are you—“

The puppet swung at Bedwyr, only for his brother to catch the weapon again, a storm of ringing metal. He matched each swing yet didn’t have the speed to buy himself time to launch a counter-attack.

Dull.

Erec strode forward, taking a blade to his shoulder—it bit through the steel and made him taste genuine pain for a split second before his Fury burned it away. That annoying machine gave up its attempts to subdue him during the charge of using a monster shield.

It’d given up.

Which was for the best. They’d find what hid in hell, and to do that, Erec would gladly take this blow.

It bought him an opening.

His hand smashed into the Knight Protector’s helmet—caving it in and knocking the man onto the ground; his enemy twitched. Dying or living, Erec couldn’t tell or care. They wouldn’t be getting up any time soon.

“Erec—you might’ve just killed—“

“Stag,” Erec growled.

How had he ever thought of Bedwyr as Strong? Bedwyr was afraid. Of death, of life, of the truth.

Erec walked towards the fence. If the Stag kept trying to hide from his challenge behind more puppets, he’d take their blows and end them.

All that mattered was getting to that coward pulling the strings. For that, he’d pay any price.