The break only lasts for a moment as I realize how much of a timer I am on. Already the struggle to keep my breath within me has begun. I rip the arrow off my hand, grimacing in pain even after its reduction by my Ether skill. Then I wield it in my other hand in a reverse grip. At least it's a weapon that can deal damage.
And before the archer can nock another arrow, I charge at the woman before me. Unwilling to let her get me with the dagger again as I feel the blood loss slowly eat at the energy and new life that Strugglers Gasp awarded me with.
But it is not a one-on-one fight, so I have to first circle around her and make it more difficult for the archer to get a shot in, obviously unwilling to commit friendly fire. The woman notices this, though, and tries to stop me. She darts out with a quick stab from her dagger as I try to maneuver around her. I am forced to jump backward, and then as I hear an arrow whoosh towards me, I hit the floor as quickly as possible, keeping my good foot that hasn't yet been injured, ready to push me back up.
The woman with twin daggers follows me closely, eager for my demise. And I am keen to meet her. So, with the ball of my foot planted into the dirt, I leap forwards at her and swing the chain that is partially wrapping my hand at one of her arms.
She doesn't even try to dodge, letting my chain wrap around her left arm as she goes in for the kill with her right. Then, in one swift motion filled with suicidal tendencies, I pull her closer to me with the chain wrapped around her arm, my body still full of the strengthed need to overwhelm Reuben, the giant of a man he is.
Then, as she is being pulled closer, with her dagger in her right hand going low, I pull her even harder as I swing the arrow in my other hand in the reverse grip towards her chest. She notices the oncoming attack and deftly twists her body even against me, hauling her towards me.
The conflict ends up with us both wounded. She stabs me in the gut like I expected as a much larger torrent of blood than usual begins gushing out of my wound. But it's not all bad because the chain I had her gripped with kept her from moving entirely out of the way, and instead of me putting an arrow in her heart, one landed in her upper left arm. So now, her arm just dangles loosely.
But I don't let up even for a moment. I learned time and time again that being passive to a threat will only make it worse. So, before she even pulls the adder-tooth-like dagger from my gut, I tackle her into the ground.
I see her face scrunch up in determination as she begins to rapidly stab me with her dagger using her uninjured arm during the fall to the ground. I didn't even have the chance to follow through with my tackle. The incredible pain erupts and stuns me momentarily as my body goes into shock. I cannot do anything as the blood in my body just falls out in massive heaps. Almost instantly, due to her insane number of stabs into my torso, I lose the new strength in my body and fall on top of her, constantly being drained of life from her dagger.
The breath I had deep within me is almost released, but I hold it in with everything I got, hoping to do one last thing before I bleed out. But before I had the opportunity to, my body disobeys me and goes limp. The person beneath me sighs in relief and victory before pushing my body off to the side. My body is so numb and weak I can't resist. I can feel my vision rapidly darkening and drawing me to the abyss. I've felt this quite a lot lately; honestly, it's inviting. Is this what death is like?
I can hear the woman say something to the archer as my hearing begins to fade and distort. Then, out of nowhere, my shoulder starts to burn. And with that burning sensation comes heat that returns to my body. Then, the heat returns my strength. I sit up abruptly, still woozy, as I see the woman turn and look at me with wide eyes and the archer gazing at me frozen, his mouth wide open. Then I slowly stand, and curious as to why they are looking at me like that, I look down at my body.
Oh, right, my entire torso was just ripped to shreds. At least twenty or so stab wounds, not to mention all the other previous things that have piled up. But from those wounds stream mass amounts of blood. Constantly. So much blood exits my body that each second, it has to be as much as there is in my whole body. I hear the woman whisper with panic dipped in a fury.
"Y-you, had the Bloody Palm? Why would he give to you?!"
I go to ask what the hell that is, but I stop, unsure if that counts as exhaling. And even if my chest feels like it's been put through a meat grinder, I refuse to let go of Strugglers Gasp. So, instead, I tilt my head in confusion at her. The man behind her speaks to her, filled with derision.
"It's the Bloodhound. Of course, he gave his protégé the healing artifact he retrieved."
As I look down at myself, I realize they must be right. Indeed, Edmund had an artifact of some sort. And I had wondered why he never used anything like that fighting Alexos. But he did. Right at the start. He gave it to me when he placed his hand on me. I feel a ball of emotion well up within me at that moment. Still, it is abruptly ruined by another whistling arrow that streams toward me from the archer, who is rapidly backing up.
I dodge the arrow by moving to the side. Avoiding an arrow without being in the middle of combat is much easier. Then, hoping to end this fight soon as it's gone on for far too long and my chest feels like a bomb about to burst, I charge at the woman; this time, I grab her dagger hand to prevent it from stabbing me again.
She awakens from shock just as I reach her and tries to evade my grasp, but with my speed, she fails. I catch her arm and punch her in the gut, twisting my body for maximum effect. Edmund taught me that during one of our spars. Then, I take an elbow from her to the face as I take to the ground again, being sure to keep her hand with the dagger away from me.
For a moment, we have a contest of strength, but unlike the one against the big man, Reuben, my power has waned due to injuries and long, troublesome use of Strugglers Grasp. So, she slowly begins winning as she, back up and lying against the tree stump that was my execution block, pushes her dagger toward my neck.
Just before the knife reaches my throat, my lungs begin to burst due to how long I've held in all this Ether. Finally, unable to hold on any longer due to the pain in my chest and the need to use my breath for leverage, I breathe out.
And just as the tome said, out comes defiance.
When I breathed in to start up Strugglers Gasp, all the Ether nearby was sucked into my body to power the skill. And so, it must be funneled out, or else it will break me apart from within. On the way out, however, it exits much faster than the way in. Colorless Ether that I can only sense due to its recent connection without me rapidly vacates my body full of force, and I exhale as hard as I can once I realize its power to maximize it.
The wind that leaves my body in a grand exodus is so mighty that it sends all the dirt, grass, and sticks flying away from my position while slamming the woman's head into the tree stump behind her. The force is so much that it instantly makes her eyes roll as she is knocked unconscious. But before she does, I see betrayal, anger, and sadness enter her eyes as she looks past me.
With the last little bit of strength still remaining in my body, I look behind me. And I see the archer running for his life in the opposite direction.
What a coward. Who runs from a fight when it's one-on-one?
I try to stand and yell at him, but my legs give out, and I fall backward onto my back as blood continues to fall out of my body. I look up at the sky, its cloud-covered sun unable to move in exhaustion. And I laugh. A hearty laugh filled with relief, happiness, and satisfaction.
I did it, Edmund. Not so weak anymore, huh? I wonder if he'd be proud. Maybe not, because those I was fighting were Hunters, but one can hope.
Then after a flash of darkness breaks me out of my delirious thoughts, a figure stands before me. One that elicits unending hate and can bring just enough energy into my body for me to tilt my head toward him.
Alexos.
He's back. I completely forgot about him while I was fighting. He has always been there, watching and waiting for something. But only he and the Devil would know precisely what.
I try to speak to him, but only blood gurgles out of my body, paralyzed by severe physical trauma and the side effect of overflowing my body with all that Ether through Strugglers Gasp. He laughs at my attempt and bends down to kneel next to me.
"Wow. I'm honestly impressed. You all truly are tough bastards. I don't know what you pulled off there, but I assume Edmund gave you some artifacts. If he had used that Ether Overflow thing and the healing one, he might have won against me. But I guess he made a bet. That I was lying about my story. That I wouldn't kill you. Just hurt ya. Real bad."
What the fuck is he talking about? What bet? Isn't it literally just about to? And that Ether Overflow he's talking about must be Strugglers Gasp. Did he confuse it for an artifact?
My confusion must show on my blood-covered face. He keeps talking to me, the unmoving bloody corpse that can only control its eyes.
"Y'know, it's a funny thing, revenge. I lied about wanting to kill the Graves family. It's a hard habit to break when almost everything you do is a lie. Especially the pain that comes with being truthful. I've spent decades chasing Killian to make him pay for what he did. And over the years of spending time with other Outlaws much worse than me, I've changed. No longer do I just want to bring him to justice. I want to make him suffer. Which is impossible to do now that he's up and disappeared. So, for many years, I have just wallowed in my sorrow and slowly grew stronger, collecting artifacts and followers. The great Phantom Pain, huh? What a fitting name they gave me. Anyway..... I just sat, waiting, until-"
He pauses and then looks me deep into my eyes before continuing. His face constantly shifts except for the area around his eyes, the two cold orbs staring into my soul.
"-Until a little crow told me something. That Killian had a son. And I thought, Perfect! I'll torture him with the death of his family as he did to me. But… he's not even here, is he? How am I to get to him without him even being here? Was he ever even there for you, lad? I have trouble imagining him caring for anyone but himself."
He stops again to see my response. I shake my eyes left to right, indicating no.
"Yeah, that's what I thought. He was a good man many years ago, and I guess I was also. But entering the Badlands changed him. He saw something or someone that no man should see. No, that's wrong. All it did was reveal who he naturally was. A monster. Anyway, I just wanted to get that little bit off my chest. Been a long time since I talked to someone like this. Therapy is good for you, y'know? It's nice. Most people fear just seeing me. But you? You, lad, can't even comprehend fear. "
For a moment, I think that Alexos is about to be kind. To be merciful, that just maybe my display of will changed him. But then, just as fast as the thought appears, it disappears, just like him with his illusions; something disgusting and terrible is always hidden within.
"So, I've decided. Instead of killing ya, how about I adopt you? I could always use a partner. Haven't had one in over a decade. Could be fun, y'know. Me and you, going around the wilds. Exploring, finding ruins, and adventuring? Maybe a little bit of murder here and there?"
The thought of being his son and following him sickens me. Without even thinking, I desperately move my eyes back to indicate my refusal of his proposal to adopt me. How could he even come up with that idea? Was he watching us when I asked Edmund?!
Alexos looks dejected for a moment before cheering back up, definitely having an even more sick and twisted idea in his head.
"That's fair. Didn't think you'd agree anyway. But how cathartic would it be to adopt your most hated man's son and raise him in their place? Oh... And if someday we found him and you killed him because I asked you to, that'd be glorious. Well, since you said no, I'll return to my writing roots and be a little more poetic. I'll leave ya to be hunted down by Hunters for the rest of your life. That is, if the acute Ether saturation that you're under doesn't kill you first. The worst way to go out, in my eyes."
He finishes his verdict on my fate as he places the back of his hand on my bloodied cheek. Then he winces in pain as he quickly pulls away.
"Whoo! That's burning. Yeah, good luck with surviving that. You put yourself through way more Ether than a human body can receive. The torrent you received would even strain me! I doubt you'll live longer than a week without seeing a doc' even with your freakish constitution and that artifact that heals ya. Too much Ether kills. Not just that, but that artifact is known for having a pretty bad side effect."
Then he stands and walks over to the fallen Hunters, the ones that I knocked unconscious. The giant of a man Reuben and the deadly swift woman, whose name I never caught. I watch him draw a short, thin knife from his belt.
He's going to kill them. I can't let him do that. They are good people, just trying to help. I don't know the deal with the one that ran, though. Maybe he was going for help? But regardless of his plans, I can't have these people die just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
So, I try to speak up through the blood that is still flooding out from me constantly. I cough and gag, only managing to wheeze out a quiet singular word.
"No..."
But that's enough. Alexos is a powerful man, and I suppose with that comes keen senses as he turns to look at me.
"Don't want me to kill them? Well, too bad..... Wait, actually, it might be more fun if they survive to hunt you down. A little bit of a rivalry is never too bad, eh?"
Then with all the madness of the fallen academic he is, Alexos sways back and forth as he picks up the two unconscious Hunters. His feet then carry him away as the air around him distorts.
His illusions obviously returning. The last thing I see from the madman is him waving toward me and yelling.
"Don't die too soon. The more pain you go through, the stronger I get. Don't forget that!"
I wince once more just at those words. But, of course, he grows through others' suffering. With the ability to inflict false pain and senses like that, it only makes sense that he can grow better by seeing other people's pain. The best way to fake something is to see it in action first.
I wait quite a while after he leaves, just watching around, waiting for him to return. But he doesn't. I was never a paranoid person, but now I definitely will be.
Eventually, my eyes grow heavy under the setting sun. The sounds of birds, crickets, and the occasional squirrel slowly drift my paranoid but exhausted mind to sleep. And the rest is much more intense and sound than usual, despite being in the middle of the woods on the ground, so it causes me to dream much more than usual.
I dream of a long, flowing dark river with Red Spider Lilies upon it, slowly drifting away from me. I try to reach out in the dream to stop it from leaving me, feeling uncomfortable with its loss. But to no avail; the stream slowly fades from my fantasy.
After the first dream, many more come screaming past. Fragments of instances and scenarios that I cannot hope to remember come morning. My body heats up and freezes and all the in-between as I sleep. But one dream sticks out both for its content and because it's my last dream.
A colossal glowing eyeball staring at me through a hole in a wall, the pupil so significant and mesmerizing that I lose myself in it, unknowing of time, space, or anything else.
I get lost in its call. It's a call for silence. It's a demand for obedience. It's an order for all to never defy it. This last wave that flows through me strikes a chord deep within me, waking me from the dream with my mind spinning.