Biast lay sprawled on the ground. He could taste grit in his mouth, it was bitter and coarse. He tried swallowing it but it only stuck to his throat making him cough.
With the dust from the impact settling slowly, but the dust was still thick enough to shroud his surroundings. Biast was conscious but his eyelids were squeezed shut. He wanted to open his eyes but he couldn't. Every fibre of his muscle hurt like they were twisted and torn. a dull, throbbing ache radiated from the side of his head Erratic thoughts and nightmares fille his mind in those few minutes.
He once again attempted to raise his eyelids, only to be met with a searing protest from his abused muscles.
Another wave of dizziness threatened to pull him under. but he knew that if he fell asleep he would never open his eyes again
Without opening his eyes he moved his hand and touched his temple, A viscous liquid stuck to his hand….Blood from a fresh wound somewhere in his head.
He was carefully moving his hand around his head trying to ascertain where exactly the wound had occurred in his head. He suddenly winced in pain as his hands moved across the side of his head. He moved his hand back in the direction and he winced from pain again, he had found the wound. The gash wasn't too deep, but a steady stream of blood was oozing from its edges. Fear knifed through him. An untreated head wound, especially on the side, was a death sentence waiting to happen.
An untreated wound in the head, especially on the side and the back is far more deadly than loosing a limb.
He had already lost quite a bit of blood from his earlier injuries, he couldn't afford to loose any more. This new drain threatened to tip him over the edge, to send him spiraling into the welcoming oblivion of unconsciousness – albeit a permanent one this time.
As he was pondering on how to treat his new wound, hall of a sudden he heard the crunch of boots sinking into the soil as they made their way towards them.
Using the time between steps and the slow pace Biast was able to quickly conclude that the person They were checking the bodies. Checking for survivors. And eliminating them if they were alive.
For the first time in a lone time, Biast actually felt fear…..fear of being killed. After what happened in his childhood, Biast joined the holy empire hoping to forget everything by drinking and dying one day, but now that death itself loomed in front of him, he didn't want to go. He wasn't gonna die today, at least not until he put up one last fight.
Was it the fact he was afraid that he wouldn't get so see Clive again ? or was he just afraid to die ?
Either way he wouldn't go down without a fight. As he the foot seps got closer, he murmured to himself, " Now or never " and used every last ounce of his strength and lunged forward at the person in front of him using his hands to propel him up from the ground, but it was not enough, His wounded leg buckled and he slammed into the figure. It was more of a desperate grab than a tackle. Biast was only able to grab the man only by his waist but he held him tightly. His senses were dazed and he couldn't figure out what to do next.
The man elbowed repeatedly at Biast's back until his grip loosened and the man tossed him aside.
Biast landed on his face to the ground, Sand scraped his face as he landed hard. He spat, trying to remove the grains of sand stuck to his lips. He turned to have a clear look at the man's face but it was still shrouded as the dust hung heavy in the air.
" hnnng….", Biast moaned in pain.
His attacker gave him no time to react and was quickly at his side.
A kick to the stomach sent a jolt of pain through Biast. He doubled over, gasping. Another kick came, then another....
As he was about to kick him a fourth time, Biast grabbed his attacker's leg, yanking him down. The man fell to the ground and grunted in pain as the back of his head made contact with the ground.
Biast got on top of him and began battering his face with punches. The two men rolled over the ground, each wrestling for control. They grappled in the dirt, grunts filling the air as each men tried to get the upper hand at the other.
The man pulled out a dagger from his sheath and plunged it towards Biast's throat. Biast was able to catch it, but his hands were locked now.
" Time to meet thy maker ", The man remarked, as he grunted trying to jam the dagger into Biast's throat.
Biast eyes widened as he recognized the voice. " Aevis ?", he asked sadly, clearly taken aback by the betrayal of his comrade. He had thought Aevis as the honorable man amidst their group, but this action proved otherwise.
He let out a soft moan as he asked this question, clearly unable to hold back the dagger pointing to his throat.
Suddenly the man pulled the dagger back and jammed it between Biast's side, just below his diaphragm. The dagger had pierced his armor like butter and finding flesh with ease.
The metallic tang of blood filled his mouth, with blood pooling in his mouth as he lifted his head and stared off into the eyes of his attacker, with only a single question plaguing his mind.
As if sensing this, Aevis spoke, " Don't worry about Clive. The sergeant has other uses for him. You however have become a liability to us. I'm sorry, but you will only slow us down "
Biast writhed in pain. The blow to his abdomen was the last straw.
Aevis spoke, " I must do this. this is a necessary evil to ensure the success of our mission "
Aevis kneeled down and clasped his hands around Biast's neck.
" Hushhh", he muttered as he tightened his hands, " It'll all be over soon "
Biast's choked as his windpipe was being crushed. He desperately clawed at Aevis's hands, leaving long streaks of blood which dripped down onto his neck. But it was of no use, Aevis didn't even flinch.
"Clive..." he choked out.
As he readied himself for death and his vison grew darker around the edges, suddenly a spear tip erupted from Aevis' chest. as he turned his gaze towards the tip of the spear now protruding from his chest. His grip slackened and his mouth trembled as his eyes glazed over and he fell to Biast's side. and Biast gasped, gulping in precious air.
Aevis's eyes widended as his body went limp, The color draining from his face.
Biast lifted his head up to see who his savior was. upon catching sight of them, the only words that escaped his mouth were, " Youu-"
The exhaustion caught up to him and Biast lost consciousness. He was now at the mercy of his savior.