As they sloshed through the horrific liquid, fatigue once again assaulted their bodies. Their bodies grew heavy with dried blood and exhaustion, slowing their pace.
They still struggled to breathe through the odorous bloodstream, which didn't help with the chore of walking.
There was still plenty of food to last at least another week, but Leto doubted that the two of them could. He would eventually run dry of Soul Aether and there was nothing to kill to catalyze the replenishment process other than the Blood. So, he decided to formulate a plan.
First was gain as much distance between him and the Blood as soon as possible. Next they would eat to regain some of their strength and clean up a little, being covered in blood was u pleasant. Then they would deliberately venture towards the Blood to engage in a fight.
So, they ran as fast as they could for the next half hour, which, unsurprisingly, wasn't much faster than walking. Leto formed a table of ice as well as a large circle. He used the circle reach the ground beneath the blood, then fished all of it from within it, creating a dry area to cook at.
Leto dismissed his breastplate and then ripped a part of his shirt off, intending to use it as kindling. Of course the material he crafted his clothes with was resistant to heat but there was a simple way around that, a hotter flame.
Just as easy as breathing, he willed his Soul Aether to materialize into a burning flame. The flame danced through the air until it reached the cloth, which it then enveloped and began feasting on. He then weaved a few strings of Soul Aether and impaled the meat on them. He let the food cook and scouted for the Blood.
He made a small bench for the two of them to share and Amira ended up falling asleep on his shoulder.
She looked terrible.
Terrible exhausted, terrible hungry, terrible thirsty.
As well as terribly beautiful.
Leto shook his head and focused. He needed to keep the both of them alive, which was a tall task.
For the last few years, always fought to kill what the abominations were protecting, which was usually territory, seldomly, there would be a family as well.
His goal was no longer to simply murder his enemy, the simplicity of it all had disappeared. Now, he had to preserve his Soul Aether, preserve himself, and most of all, protect Amira.
Simple murder would be much easier than having to pretext something, especially when what's being protected doesn't know how to wield a blade or use Soul Aether.
Leto began to formulate a plan and get up, laying Amira down softly on the cool bench.
Eventually, the food finished and they savored every last bite, for this could very well be their last meal.
Leto began to notice more and more red Soul Aether permeating the air around them, prompting Leto to send Amira further from where the fight would be.
Leto continued circulating his Soul Aether around his eyes, witnessing the hideous red Sould Aether consumed nearly everything, turning it all the same hue.
The Blood came closer and closer, nearly suffocating Leto with a horrid stench.
Leto's sight continued turning into shades of pure crimson as the Blood drew closer. The Blood began to droning and rippling, as if it was coming alive.
Then, it did.
Leto stopped the flow of Soul Aether to his eyes, allowing him to see what lie ahead clearer. He'd put flames connecting to bits of his clothing across the top of the tunnel, acting as torches lighting up a small area.
As his vision normalized, he could see something moving in the Blood. As the depth of the blood increased, Leto circulated his Soul Aether throughout his body at a high speed, increasing his speed and strength exponentially.
The Blood surged and kept rising. Leto kept looking ahead when he noticed something, something beneath the surface.
Whatever it was reached up and tried to poke through the surface, only to make it rise, as if there was something preventing it from escaping.
By now, the Blood was past Leto's waist, hindering his movements.
The point continued rising, preventing something from showing itself. Then, a small tear appeared at the tip of it. What Leto saw next made his entire body shudder.
He felt a blade of fear pierce his body. He froze, he was terrified.
Ghastly talons that connected to slim, long fingers were reaching towards the ceiling. As it continued to reveal itself, the feeling only intensified. It's slender arms were long and forged in blood. A horrifying amalgamation of a face emerged from the tear, its mouth opened, revealing solidified but flowing blood formed into long fangs.
As the creature continued to show itself, Leto trembled and paled.
It's body had four arms, two were reaching toward the ceiling, one ended in a sharp point made of solidified blood, and the last seemed to have been severed at some point. It dripped a black liquid that was instantly comsumed by the blood around it.
As the Blood rose, its figure displayed a feminine shape. A large gaping wound was on its torso, running from the base of its neck, past its cleavage, and to its waist.
It's hair fell like waterfalls of blood all around, it turned around and faced away from Leto and snarled.
On its back, crude, cryptic writing was engraved. The engravings were glowing with a white hue, hardly enough to illuminate the cave, but enough to display what it read.
TRAITOR. HERETIC. DISGRACE.
Those three words were inscribed on its upper back, with more below it. The lower ones were of an ancient and unknown language to Leto. He recognized them but still didn't know what they meant or where exactly he knew them from.
The Blood trotted away from Leto, back the way it came. Leto let out a shaky breath he'd been holding in.
Then, the Blood turned around once again, shooting a piercing gaze directly where Leto was standing. It's terrifying mug had a crazed smile that almost made Leto's knees buckle and give out.
It slowly trotted as a low, grating laugh escaped it bloody maw.