A shadowy figure clattered as it walked, crunching the stone of the ruins below its feet, leaving marks in the ash as it dragged its massive black blade.
Its harrowing red pupils pierced through a midnight-black bascinet helmet, the flowing and tattered crimson tasset falling from its cuirass. This armoured figure showed no signs of friendliness, every hint of it giving away the message that it wanted to skewer Artemis on its blade as no more than a bit of sword practice.
"Daemon, when you said that most monsters reside in the City past the Ash, you meant that there were other creatures lurking before it?"
"Indeed."
"And you said there are no other people here?"
"As far as I'm aware."
Artemis reached down and placed his hand on the hilt of his blade, readying to draw it from its sheath.
"Then this is no human, no manner of creature that can be reasoned with."
"It is a beast to be Hunted." The Daemon readily agreed.
A bright silver colour flashed in his vision, temporarily obscuring the midnight visage of the Knight.
Artemis grimaced, glancing towards the Knight as he raised a hand to block the light. The figure had reached into a satchel at his waist, procuring a small silver object.
And then hurled it directly at Artemis in a single, swift motion.
A knife buried itself into Artemis's palm, causing him to jolt backwards, clutching his wrist as he cried out. He dropped his sword into the ash, a cloud of white scurrying up to coat the air in a haze, obscuring the visage of the knight. All that could be seen was the vile gleam of crimson as it squinted in the distance.
F-cking bastard! I called it!
The Knight continued its advance.
Artemis was occupied, however, his teeth ground together as he tried to alleviate or distract himself from the pain. Of course he had experienced his fair share of it, but it seemed like he was incurring too much of it at once! Since he had come to the Shadow, it seems like pain had been the only thing he sowed!
Artemis shakily wavered, trying desperately not to wobble, slowly pulling the knife out of his hand. It hurt, badly.
Pulling the knife out was a constant, unending pain. It was terribly consistent, the edge of the blade dragging against the inside of his hand as blood continued to stream out and fall to the ground. He stifled his scream, trying to duck behind the cloud of ash as long as he could while he readied himself.
It slipped out of his palm with a faint grating slush, the sound of his bones and muscle tissue being freed of the blade.
"Come on, master swordsman!" he heard the Daemon's voice echo in his mind as he flipped the silver knife over in his hands, preparing to burst out of the cloud of ash with intent to murder. "If you intend to act this slowly, I'm quite sure we won't make it to the City, much less out of this Cradle!"
Shut it!
He cursed at the Daemon silently.
You gave me the well-intended ability of a pox-ridden monocle-wearing historian, not a soldier! Everything I have to do has to be done with meticulous intention. If I slip up, it's over!
"And that's exactly why you need to act faster!"
The cloud of ash was cut through in an instant. A powerful force tore it apart, causing it to disperse in two directions as a silhouette crashed through the air.
Sh-t!
The Knight fell upon him with a silent fury. He gave no warning when he swung his blade for the first time, colliding down in the stone where Artemis once had been.
He pivoted his body to the side, trying to minimise his movements as he wrapped around to the flank of the Knight. He jabbed the silver knife into the Knight's side, nestling it in the space between the cuirass. Cursing in the meanwhile, this was his opportunity to reclaim his pride. After all, this gaudy bastard had dared to tarnish a Prince!
I won't continue to be a simpering b-tch.
When the Knight glanced down at him with its glaring red gaze, unphased by the stab wound in its side, Artemis grinned madly.
It was a nervous, crazy grin. He had expected much more from this attack. But the Knight showed no sign of faltering, no pain or anguish, not even a flinch. It was as if he had stabbed nothing but air, a phantom, a wraith of the Cradle.
How does he feel none of this!?
And, recuperating its momentum with a flowing flourish, the Knight thrust his weapon forward. It struck the side of its head, digging deeply into his cheek. It continued into his ear, biting into its side. He felt his skull rattle as it hit him hard, not only experiencing the anguish of the edge of the blade but also its mighty heft.
His vision went blurry.
He felt tattered, ruined, but he persevered. Blood streamed along the onyx blade, dyed an even darker colour against the black steel, further enunciated as he grasped its edge, throwing it to the side. His palm sustained another deep gash, the blade swirling around to catch his left thigh on top of it all.
He was unperturbed, pretending as if he were as stoically resilient as the Knight. Rather, with all of the pain he was experiencing, all of it just seemed like another feeble addition to his collection of wounds.
But the exhaustion was creeping. He was still tired from his training, from trying to escape the Daemon, from trudging to the ash. It wasn't as high in front of the ruins as it was at the foot of the Cradle, but it was still a monstrous task to trudge through, especially as he was trying to dodge the vicious strikes of the Knight.
With one swift motion, Artemis pivoted his body, numbness surging through the wounded leg as it collided with the Knight's head.
The bascinet helm was knocked to the ground. It clattered as it skidded along the stone, stopping its dalliance when it collided with a pile of rubble to the side of the ruins.
And the fiery crimson gaze that had been staring at him through the helmet had vanished.
There was… nothing left underneath it.
What the f-ck!?
Artemis cursed as he stumbled backwards, narrowly avoiding the Knight's retaliatory strike, leaving the silver knife buried in its side.
The suit of armour was now missing a helmet!
Yet, without a head, it was still walking, moving, fighting as if it were a living person!
And despite having no person inside of it, this hollow suit of armour was stronger than he was!
Artemis grimaced as he dodged the Knight's second strike, twisting his body painfully as his fist whipped out, burying itself into the plate metal of its cuirass. It creaked, a slight dent left in its surface.
Then he fell backwards, tossing himself away to avoid yet another twist of the blade. But as the Knight swung it in an arcing motion towards him, its grasp on the hilt loosened. With the full weight of its shoulders and hips, it hurled the blade towards his chest.
As it cascaded through the air, Artemis grimaced and prepared to lower himself even further into the ash. Once he landed, it was only a matter of becoming as thin of a person as possible, sinking into the dust to avoid such a terrible attack.
But he was unsure if he would make it.
So he raised his arm forward.
The blade collided with him as he landed, sinking deep into his arm. It instantly cut through the surface layer of his skin as it continued in a circular manner, then buried itself into the bone, emerging from the other side as it stopped suddenly, centimeters away from his face.
He landed harshly in the ash, which knocked the air out of his lungs. It was either a true curse or a blessing that it happened at the same time as the blade was caught in what little flesh was still holding his arm together. It distracted him only for a moment, easing him into the monumental fiery pain that surged through his arm.
He couldn't breathe, couldn't feel any part of him that wasn't experiencing intense agony, but still forced himself up to face the Knight. He didn't think it was a conscious effort anymore. It was terrifying instinct.
"You look like sh-t, boy. You do know that the Hunter is supposed to be the one carving up the monsters, right?"
His breath had turned into bestial huffs, pants that begged for a deeper inhalation, but could only turn into fits of coughs once the plumes of ash filled his lungs. His chest felt rigid and heavy, and his sleeve was slicked with blood as gravity gradually tore away the last remnants of sinew, what was once his right arm falling to the ground in a heap of neatly-severed flesh and bone.
I- I'm… I…
He couldn't even properly form thoughts, everything had become a mess.
I'm… trying- to get to that part…
He couldn't even comprehend how he was managing this.
He wasn't even sure that he was.
The Knight had retreated for a moment, now free of his blade, leaving them on somewhat even ground. If it could be considered even that he was now missing an arm, an eye, carrying dozens of deep cuts all over his body, and was extremely exhausted, to the extent that it felt like liquid stone had been poured into each of his remaining limbs.
He took a step back, stomping down on the hilt of his blade, which caused it to flip upwards. He nervously calculated its rotations, reaching out to catch it by the hilt.
Ah, f-ck!
All but his pointer finger had grasped the hilt, slipping onto the edge of the blade. It sliced deep into his flesh, causing him to wince in pain as he raised the silver sword.
That would— would have been really cool…
"I don't hold the same sentiment. I think you're quite the fool…" the Daemon commented mischievously.
His whole world was spinning. It took all the focus he had just to remaining standing, to not fall over into the ash and let it drink up his spilled blood.
And the reprieve of the Knight had ended its course.
It was time to finish the Hunt, no matter who fell in the end.