After the strike, the Eldritch had stopped its movements. Vicheam, landing with balance and steady footing, looked its way, knowing it wasn't dead yet.
A strike that was sure to mark a scar.
There are only two ways to kill a cursed one: know its true name or coat a weapon with salt. The saying 'rubbing salt on the wound' had its effect; the creatures had a weakness against salt because it hindered their bodily functions.
One problem, though, Vicheam didn't have salt.
In the moment unfolding, Vicheam didn't know its name either; in fact, how could he know its name? The creature's origins are mysterious.
The cursed one began making its battle cry; its voice came out distorted and sounded almost human — Vicheam could only explain the voice as uncanny and obnoxious.
"Die, you wretched beast!"
The cursed one mimicked, taking one step out of the mist, revealing its appearance to Vicheam. As he thought, it was unexplainable; the easy way to describe it was by its human-like structure, two legs and four arms. It was chunky, and its thousands of thick veins running behind its skin seemed almost to explode. As for its head, it had long hanging ears reaching down its neck, it didn't have a nose nor did it have eyes, only a mouth — It was blind.
"...That... look just like a monster?"
A confusion crept into his head. It definitely looked like a cursed one, but from a gut feeling, it didn't feel similar to one.
Suddenly, Charging Vicheam head-on towards his position. He grabbed his sword tighter; he needed to buy time to look for an escape. Having a creature like that running after you would sooner or later kill you, even before he'd find an escape route.
Once it got close enough, Vicheam ducked low, and everything began to move slowly. He inspected its fat leg before releasing the power needed to decapitate it precisely, with one swift motion, the blade disappeared and reappeared before and after slashing it.
Salt seemed pretty suprised and in awe by the move.
The monster stumbled, its decapitated leg already beginning to regenerate slightly. He took the chance and started running off back to the mountain wall the creature disappearing.
"I've realized something, I believe we're on some kind of fortress, the wall here is man-made, there's no way mountain walls can become this flat. If I'm right, there must be a staircase somewhere...".
He ran alongside the wall before suddenly seeing a giant drill pierce the path ahead of him.
"It's already regenerated!? That was too quick!" Vicheam said to himself before running past it, fortunately, it moved slowly, though its attacks were pretty dangerous, leaving impacts on the ground.
He moved around the cursed one to try to confuse it. No matter what, the mist around them didn't seem to cause any problems for the blind one. It was obvious — despite its blindness, those ears were the key to figuring out where it was; he had to confirm it.
—Crush!—
He jumped over the tentacle that had left a mark on the ground, like a jumping rope. Jump, duck, and jump!
With one last jump, Vicheam leaped further away, landing as silently as possible. He gestured for Salt to be silent — even when it could speak telepathically.
The beast stopped its movements, turning its head around in confusion. It tried to listen in with its big hanging ears, but it heard nothing. It let out a grunt. Its mouth began mimicking again before walking off into the fog.
"Save me!"
"Kill this wretched beast!>
He didn't move a single inch until the beast was out of sight. Once gone, Vicheam deliberately moved away, slowly but surely.
It had overly sensitive hearing. Just a step or the movement of a pebble could summon the blind one.
***
After walking slowly enough not to make a single sound, Vicheam Brow raised in confusion once he locked his eyes on something interesting.
In front of them was a wooden platform, with edges that barely served as a railing. On top of it was some ceiling, operated by two ropes in the middle — It was... an elevator? Vicheam quietly inspected it, realizing it was his escape route.
In the middle of the wooden platform was the rope. By pulling the rope downwards with his strength, Vicheam managed to lift himself alongside the platform beneath before encountering a problem: The only thing holding it up was the thick rope; it was too heavy, and it began straining his muscles and hands just 3 meters up.
"...This won't work".
Before letting out a low grunt, he released it, and the wooden platform landed back against the stone floor, not making any sound as the thick mist beneath served as a suppression almost.
—Thud...—
There had to be other ways to get out. If there really was an elevator, it meant he had conquered the mountain wall before him; the peak was his goal as it's always been. Vicheam snickered at the irony — Salt eyed him like he was crazy, wasn't this guy trying to stay silent?
He suddenly recalled that every time he had met an impossible task, he had climbed for years, and at this point, everything was possible as long as he'd put his mind to it. 99 hills have been climbed — he thought to himself, why should a mere elevator stop him from reaching the 100th hill, a milestone that probably no previous climbers ever reached.
Vicheam began holding onto the rope; instead of drawing it back, he climbed upwards. After reaching about 10 meters up the rope, the sound of a bell began ringing further up through the fog. It was distant, so fortunately it didn't make too much trouble... or so he thought. Continuing to climb and climb, the bell became louder and louder; he was getting closer.
While his eyes were glued to the mysterious top, Salt had used his only eye to look at something behind them.
<...there's another cursed one coming at us>
He looked over his shoulder towards Salt, and suddenly, he disappeared beneath his shoulder, only to reveal a terrific creature coming towards him with wings. Before even managing to react, the creature, which was allegedly a cursed one, hooked its leg's claw onto his waist, gripping him like an eagle targets their prey.
"F-Fucking hell!"
Vicheam fought against it, hitting its bird leg, trying to free himself from the grip. He could barely get a good look at it as it flew at an unexplainable speed that distorted his view ever so slightly.
What was obvious was its wings, feather wings.
"...A harpy?"
Suddenly, the grip began lifting Vicheam towards its stomach, which turned into an open, hideous mouth, slowly revealing a new terror — uneven spikes of ribs and hundreds of teeth inside, some type of saliva and even blood dropped from it, it was disgusting.
"Fuck no!"
Vicheam shouted to himself, horrified, trying to hump his way out. He couldn't take out his sword due to the heavy wind against him.
By the second, the mouth widened, ready to eat him. Doing his best, he observed it fast, a reckless idea popping into his mind.
The risk would be accompanied by agony and pain, but hopefully survival, too.
With a deep breath, Vicheam took a few seconds to compose himself, feeling the wind fluttering his hair in the process. He told himself several times in his head, 'Do it, do it, do it'
"I'm doing it!"
He lastly thought before getting a firm grip on its leg, pushing himself out of its own grip.
Slowly but surely, Vicheam squashed himself out, a surge of pain gushing across his entire existence, the claw sunken into his skin was dragged along as he continued to squash.
Vicheam's mind got distorted from the impact of pain; he composed himself with only his instincts doing his deed.
The flying one didn't notice it at all. With his strength alone, he climbed up the back of the flying one before getting a good look at its face.
A distorted human face with uncanny teeth on top of its mouth, long hair, and only one cyclopian eye.
The flying one noticed Vicheam on its back before screaming. He couldn't release the grip on the flying one; if so, he would go flying. The combo of high speed through clouds with a mixing scream was on the edge of rupturing his eardrums.
Grabbing the sword by his waist, he lifted it before piercing it through the neck of the flying one. It became visibly angry and suddenly flew directly up.
After ten seconds of holding himself together, it departed from the fog, a silence following right after.
revealing an endless mountain wall in front of him. Something else interested him; it reflected a reddish color. Turning to look behind him, Vicheam was met with a scenery that would forever burn into his mind.
His eyes widened, and he loosened his grip on the handle of his sword.
Vicheam managed to utter.
"....woah...".
For a moment, he forgot the reality before him; his attention turned to the scenery. The fog beneath was red, the sky ahead was reddish/orange, which made a beautiful contrast with the clouds and the air around him. The red sun peeked through the horizon, almost like it was gazing at Vicheam. It was beautiful; it was like a majestic entity was staring right back at him. In awe, he could only imagine what the peak would look like, the stars, the clouds, and possibly seeing the sun and moon at the same time.
He was reminded of the situation at hand when he felt rustling beneath him. Vicheam held tightly onto his pierced sword, feeling his blood from his stomach flying out. To continue rising in altitude made his head dizzy
After another ten seconds had gone by, the flying one had seemingly made it up the mountain. Vicheam could see a vast grassland beneath, even getting a glimpse of some type of camp at the edge of the cliff. He quickly forgot about it when the flying one continued upwards.
"D-Do you have no plans of stopping you bastard!" Vicheam shouted, pushing the sword even deeper into its neck.
Salt had finally spoken up again. Vicheam had pondered what had happened, but it became obvious now. It had been adjusting the source in his body. As the two got higher and higher in the air, he asked Salt in his head.
How do I use your powers!? You'd better tell me immediately!
His blood had become a deadly weapon? What could Salt possibly mean? The only weapons deadly enough to kill cursed ones were... Salt? Vicheam became enlightened at the idea, had Salt turned his blood into... salt?
He didn't wait to find out; instead, he pulled out his sword from the eldritch's neck, dipping his other hand in the blood gushing under his coat, shortly after he smeared it on the edge of his sword before piercing it immediately again on its wounded neck. The flying one had a strong reaction as its flying began to stumble, screaming in some sort of pain and help.
—Krihhh!!
The wound of the flying one began to burn, proving that Vicheam's blood affected it.
The flying one began darting downwards back to land, obviously dead from the salt-inflicted wound. Without a second plan, Vicheam held tightly around the eldritch being, its soft yet disgusting feather engulfing beneath his touch.
"Prepare for impact, Salt!"
Vicheam shouted one last time before feeling his backpack flying off him. Flying down Vicheam saw a lake before him, knowing that the landing would ensure his safety — hopefully.
Holding onto the body tighter, he prepared for the crash and...
splash!!