Chereads / Bleak Midwinter. / Chapter 45 - Wantonness - Ⅱ

Chapter 45 - Wantonness - Ⅱ

"Hmmmm. Finally, someone who has an Arcane Art." Michael cocked his head. "I am not really smart, I'd admit, but don't you think it's strange? So many of you weaklings in an army camp of sorts?" He asked the Dwarf. 

"I will waste no breath on you, human."

"Bah!" Michael threw his hands into the air in an exaggerated manner. "Shut up when I am talking, short ass motherfucker. You're a puppet, act like one." The cruel touch in his voice made the Dwarf flinch as he took another step. "Weird. Very weird. I am sure Mr. Know-it-all there has figured it out as well, as long as he's not lost his mind."

"Don't waste your last words on idle chatter, h-human!" The Dwarf raised his hands and multiple head-sized chunks of rocks rose up from the ground. 

"Army encampment on such a huge scale and I have only seen one person with an Arcane Art. Except the edgy grey flames batman guy, of course." Michael's fist pounded into his palm. "Dunno what's up, but I know for a damned fact that you lot are up to something sus."

Michael spoke everything in Abrahamic, except for the last bit which he uttered in pure English. 

The Dwarf gulped audibly and pressed his fingers into open air. Dust and gravel fell from the chunks of earth that were floating around him, leaving behind medium sized earthen bullets. The bullets had a spiral design over them. "Damn you!" He barked, and then flicked his wrist. 

The needle-like projectiles went upwards before raining down in a black barrage of death. 

Michael sneered and then looked down at the Dwarf. 

"Say, shorty." He spoke, standing unfazed amidst the black rain. "What do you think a person should do when they can't use their own Arcane Arts? Because it does more harm than good to the user."

The Dwarf stayed silent, not uttering a word as he saw his spell bounce off Michael's skin as if it wasn't made out of hardened earth, but rather rubber. 

"The only choice…" he caught one of the projectiles with his bare hands, "…you train your body to the point that it can compensate for the lack of sheer annihilation an Arcane Art can produce." He paused, letting a few dramatic seconds pass by. "Or you mould a skill into your cortex."

The Dwarf's eyes widened in a rush of sudden realisation. However, it was already too late. 

His feet hovered over the ground as Michael's fingers snaked around his throat. His breath hitched and fell short. A second later, Michael's hand tore through the flesh and broke through the ribcage, his cold hand sending a shiver around the Dwarf's warm, pulsating heart. 

His hand closed and the heart crushed into his grip. Throwing his body to the side, Michael cranked his neck. 

The Dwarf fell to the ground, and after a few seconds, he gasped, crying out in pain. 

"Arghhh…!" 

Mustering all of his strength, he touched his chest. 

Much to his own surprise, his heart was still beating. Alive and whole. 

Looking from the side of his eye, Michael scoffed. "Be grateful I can't use my Arcane Art."

The Dwarf willed Arcanum into his body to move, however, despite the fuel being there, there was no strength in his limbs. They just laid there, like limp pieces of flesh and bone. 

He turned around, his sharp gaze washing over everyone he had defeated until now. 

Arms and legs were bent at unnatural angles, and many of them were buried underneath heaps of burning debris. 

Plopping down on the ground, Michael breathed out a sigh. 

"Ahh, man, this sucks." He spoke as he saw Arthur and Ed exchange blows, sending ripples of shockwaves everywhere. "Is he under mind control or something?" He spoke to himself. Combing his fingers through his long, snow-white locks, he brushed the stray strands to the back. "For crying out loud, I didn't get paid to babysit this freak."

Shaking his head, he looked back. 

An extremely strong Arcanum signature was approaching. The mere inching closer of it made Michael feel like death itself was walking towards him. The dark, sicky green aura oozing out of the person was suffocating, and his vision almost doubled over. 

"I guess there is no point in fighting here anymore." He whispered underneath his breath. "Even if I use it, I don't have a chance." A sour taste filled his mouth. "Tch, how pathetic of me to want the old man to come and take care of this."

Standing up, he crouched down, touching the ground with his hands and extending his legs backwards. 

Like a sprint position. 

Arcanum blazed like forest-fire and his legs glowed in an amethyst aura. 

As he took a step, the force sent debris and crippled bodies backwards. 

Ed and Arthur were trapped in a stalemate, their swords locked together. Arthur's face was still as impassive as the moment his pupils disappeared completely from his irises and Ed had a smile on his face, enjoying this fight to the fullest. Their locked swords caused scintillating sparks to fly everywhere. 

With the sound of feet digging into the ground and coming to a screeching halt, Michael arrived right behind Ed. With a grin on his face, Michael placed his hand over the arm that was holding the sword. 

"Buckle up, horned boy!" 

In a flash, his fist made contact with Ed's jaw. 

Ed's head immediately snapped back at the blow, lifting him off the ground only a few inches. 

"That tickled," Ed growled, cracking his neck. "Begone." His hand directed at Michael and a huge congregation of flames started to gather in the centre of his palm. 

However, Michael grabbed his arm and bent it in the middle, redirecting its direction. 

"You're quite bold." Ed spoke in a calm voice. 

Arthur redirected Ed's strike, and then immediately followed with a quick stab towards Ed's chest. Michael's eyes widened as the sword's tip missed its mark and stabbed Ed in his arm-pit and Arthur followed with a spinning kick and elbow to Michael. 

"Oye! You dickhead. I am on your team!" Michael exclaimed unbelievably as he was thrown a few yards away. 

Ed's eyes flicked from Arthur to Michael and a sense of confusion invaded him. 

Something exploded right behind them, a few yards away and the sickly green aura rose up in the shape of a tornado, tearing the layer of clouds overcast. 

The smell of death filled the air and even Ed felt a shiver crawl up his spine. 

"Lord Cromwell is here…"

His thought was interrupted as Michael punched him, harder this time, throwing him a few yards away. 

Arthur blurred and lunged at Michael, however, he held Arthur's arm and then got behind him, locking his hand to the back. 

"Wake up, you bastard. I don't know what kind of contract or vow you entered with whatever damned God, but I am not dying just because my driver lost his fucking mind!" 

Michael's arm pushed heavily against Arthur's throat. Ed capitalised on the moment and burst forward. 

As Arthur's eyes started to lose light and were to roll back into his head, his pupils dilated suddenly and the frenzied shiver in his body subsided. 

Nightcrackle blurred with grey wisps as its tail. A moment later two spears embedded into Ed's hamstrings, followed by a sword to his right arm and then another spear followed and grazed his hip. The swords that had stopped protecting and attacking Arthur due to lack of rationality all started to shiver once again. 

Pushing Michael back, Arthur coughed, ignoring Ed who was down on one knee. 

He blinked his eyes a few times. "I'll thank you later." Arthur spoke as he moved his hands in the form of a sign. Bringing the base of his palms together, he closed his eyes. 

The swords and spears started to form a cage around the two of them. Their tips pointed towards not only Ed, but every living person. 

[Phase 1: Hailstorm]

Lightning coursed through the weapons and cries of people filled the air. 

Layers of shields stacked over each other in front of Ed now that his chainmail had recharged, however, his focus faltered. Seeing people die one after another as the barrage of swords slash and mutilate them caused a conflict of emotions into him. 

Should he stall the two until his "Lord Cromwell" arrived? Or should he go all-out and capture the two right now and avoid future deaths? 

He was torn. Even a second of negligence could result in his own demise. 

Letting out a deep breath, Nightcrackle came to life. For the first time. Instead of conducting Ed's grey flames, it started to glow in its own unique glow. 

A rather disturbed look appeared on Michael's face. 

"Uhh, they're not dying."

Arthur clicked his tongue as he saw the mutilated corpses reanimate. 

"They're dying. Someone is reviving them." Arthur looked back. "He mentioned his Lord in the beginning. Maybe it's him." A strained gasp left his lips as his Arcanum dwindled. 

"Necromancy? There is no record of such sorcery." Michael argued back. 

"That doesn't matter right now. We have to escape." Arthur spoke and grabbed Michael by the scruff of his clothes. 

"Yeah, my useless driver, that is what I have been trying to tell you for so long."

"Oh please, don't start it at this time. I am low on blood, Arcanum and patience."

"Shouldn't have let him beat your ass like that then."

"Good Lord! You talk a lot." A net of electricity encased the two as Arthur directed his hand in the direction where he first appeared in Eden.

The knife that he made from the ring Albert had given him was still embedded into the cliff's surface. 

Using Ferrum Field in a way that instead of himself acting as a metal object and the knife as a magnet, he reversed the roles. Before Ed could dash and restrain them, their figures disappeared in a maelstrom of yellow and azure sparks. 

"NOOO!"

Ed limped, struggling to walk with so many weapons embedded into him. 

Nightcrackle's charged attack sliced through the air. Making its way through the few people who were barely standing, one hand on knee and other on the side support, the beam of death approached them as panic and dread filled Ed.

However, a person stepped in front of them and swatted the attack away like it was nothing. Or rather it wasn't swatted away. 

The Arcanum that made up the charged attack was sucked into a ring that had the appearance of the maw of a creature that looked like a dragon. 

"Hmm." He narrowed his eyes on Ed who fell to one knee. "You let them go."

"…" Ed stayed silent, not uttering a word, the hot pain coursing through his veins stealing away any excuse he had formed in his mind. 

"Well, I guess you wanted to break him for killing your mother." He spoke in an apathetic way. 

Ed lowered his head until it was an inch above the charred ground. "I apologise, my Lord."

The man's golden eyes with swirling white pupils focused on him, unblinkingly. "Shallow words, is what you're offering, General Ed." He replied, the disappointed edge never leaving his voice. "If you want to apologise, prove yourself with actions." He paused and then looked around. "The prisoners are all dead as well." A smirk formed on his face. "Good, good."

As he turned around, the wind caused his robe to flutter wildly in the air, causing a loud whoosh, drowning out the crackle of everything—structures and people alike—burning. "We will commence with the original plan, General Ed." 

"As your lordship commands!" Biting back the bitter taste in his mouth, he thumped his fist against his chest. 

Although Arthur had not defeated him, Ed considered his escape as a loss. 

The Lord took a step forward and then stopped to look back, taking his hood off and revealing a bush of short, curly white hair. Two pairs (4 horns) of obsidian horns-- one pair sprouting from his forehead that moved upwards like razor-sharp daggers and the other two extending upwards from his temples and curling down around his ear. 

"Failure will not be tolerated this time around." He spoke, his slit-swirling golden eyes narrowing.

Ed dipped his head, shame urging him to bury himself in a hole somewhere. His curiosity with Arthur and selfish desire to defeat Arthur by humiliating him as he exhausts himself had caused him to attract the ire—although subtle—towards himself. 

"I swear by Hades, I will either have his head on my sword, or die trying."

The man nodded and then slightly shook his head sideways. 

"It will be quite disappointing if you die to a human pup. And while I appreciate the sentiment, I have something else planned for you. The boy that fought you... there's something really magnetic about him. I am quite enthralled." He looked at the moonlit sky. "We unleash the Wujins first thing in the morning." 

And then a sinister smile formed on his lips as he talked to himself.

"Arthur, huh?" He smacked his lip, as if savouring his name. "… I have my own set of action planned out for him."