Chapter 30, Red Skies and Mud

Chapter 30, Red Skies and Mud

He found it wrapped around what he could vaguely remember to be a gas station. Slight movements easily caused the walls and windows to crack and creak, but the wyrm only had eyes for Kreig. Kreig, in turn, only had eyes for the wyrm.

Fighting. Again. After all this time. Hed gotten a month or so of rest, and now he was back at it again.

It felt wrong. He didnt want to be there and he didnt want to save anyone. At the moment, he just wanted to go back to his cell, back to playing cards and painting and that easy life that hed longed for. When he was first summoned, this wouldnt have been the sort of life hed longed for, but at the moment, he couldnt imagine anything better than warm food and a roof over his head.

Neither of which he had at this moment. All he had were two weaklings at his side and a strangely acting wyrm in front of him. If he wasnt curious about what was wrong with the wyrm, if Gerald wasnt there, he might not have cared enough to so much as raise a finger.

But that wasnt the case. He took a step towards the wyrm. He wouldnt kill it quickly and he wouldnt kill it mercifully. It had things to tell him, after all.

Its eyes were locked onto him. They were dazzling, swirling pools of stars. Then, its mouth opened wide. It had many small teeth angled towards the throat, made for pulling in prey rather than injecting venom, but Kreig knew very well that it was not about to lunge at them. Several holes, barely visible to the untrained eye, flexed inside its throat, opening up as the wyrm coiled.

Kreig took a deep breath. He wasnt relaxing anymore. No more taking it easy, no more casual chit-chat. Emotion drained from his mind like happy warm sludge. He raised his arms and fell into a posture. The world melted away, the dawn sky replaced with a muddy red, the pavement and concrete buildings crumbling to reveal mud and ash and too many bodies to count. He had no weapons, he had no armour, but he didnt need them.

The wyrm gave an immense hiss as its body convulsed and a stream of black, acidic goo shot out of its mouth, aimed as precisely as a master archer right at Kreig. In turn, he took a broad-legged stance and crossed his arms in front of himself.

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The concentrated stream of corrosive liquid splattered in an arch around Kreig, not even touching his skin once. Everything went slowly. When the acid hit the area around Kreig, it proved its strength, quickly melting everything it touched into a fizzy black mess. Was he hallucinating, or could he faintly hear voices, distantly behind him? No, he couldnt hear it. He couldnt hear anything at all, except for the sound of battle and the stream letting up. As the wyrm let up for a mere second, Kreig bolted for it.

In terms of his own personal merits, Kreig was not a fast man. His power lay in his many skills, his physical strength, and his endurance. Speed and intelligence were not becoming of him, but compared to a regular human

He moved too fast to see.

The world seemed to bend under his momentous will, and in a mere moment, he stood before the wyrm, his bare hands clenching each side of its enormous head. Then, as easily as a knife slips in a pumpkin, he thrust both hands into the snout of the beast, through the thick scales and the skin and the bone. It tried to jerk away, tried to leave, but he wouldnt let it. He shoved both hands into this dry, empty hole he created, and with a mighty jerk, he cracked it open, revealing all the wyrms secrets to the world.Follow current novels at novelhall.com)

Kreig?

He was small. Young. Dirty blonde hair and a childishness that should never have been placed on the battlefield. Gerald.

He stood there, alone, up to his ankles in mud and corpses. Eyes light and confused and - couldnt he see everything that was going on? Why was he here? He shouldnt be on the battlefield. Allies shouldnt stand before Kreig. If they did, they wouldnt stand for long. Wrong place. Go away. Although Kreigs voice was hoarse, although his every breath seemed to choke on the heavy air around him, he spoke. For Geralds sake.

Huh? Why should-, Im sorry, you dont seem fine. Has the battle been long? Have you-,

LEAVE! Kreig bellowed, taking heavy steps towards his only friend. Had to get him out of there. Gerald couldnt be there. What if an army attacked? What if people invaded? What if-,

And all of a sudden, Gerald wasnt dressed in his overall and his vaguely hopeful expression, he was wearing light armour. Light armour and the red cloth of the empire and his eyes were so big and not like a childs. K-, Kreig

Kreig stumbled back. The Empire? Here? Now? Attacking him with a mere single soldier? Hah! They must be assured of their victory! Very well, if they so ask for it, if they beg him to show his power, then - in the name of the White Pope! By God, he will! This soldier will-,

Something touched him.

Kreig looked down and found a boy, barely of age, wrapped around his midsection. Gerald looked up. Their eyes met.

The mania was banished, the red skies expelled, the mud and blood was gone. Replaced with asphalt and blue skies and a deep, all-consuming sense of dread and shame.

You okay, Kreig? Gerald asked, disconnecting himself.

Kreig nodded, but he didnt feel okay. Not at all.

Not in the least.