In the windswept plains of Elradine, Yugo flung himself from the creature's back and landed hard on a mound of earth — soft enough to break his fall, but not without pain. His ribs screamed as he forced himself upright, eyes locked on the hulking beast that still reeled in confusion.
"Hey, big lizard ! I've brought us right into your nest. How does it feel to be home?" he called, voice sharp despite the strain.
The Negacion shrieked, producing a sound that tore through the evening air, and lashed out with its spined tail.
Yugo rolled clumsily aside, the ground jarring his battered body, but he narrowly escaped being crushed. Breath ragged, he staggered up and darted around the monster, his every step aching, until he reached a small circle of piled stones.
There he scooped up two pebbles. One he hurled skyward. In the same motion, he translocated to it, vanishing and reappearing above.
From the air, his sharp gaze swept the ground.
He saw what he came for — the patch of bare land where once two charred carcasses had lain, and where a tree should have stood but never did.
At least, during his previous investigation, he had found a scatter of wood dust remaining there, glimmering crystal fragments a little farther out, and grass stained with dried blood.
Whose blood, he could not yet say. But in any case, the pieces of the puzzle were beginning to fall into place in Yugo's mind. He just had to find the source of the wood dust and the owner of the blood.
As for the tiny shards of crystal, he now knew that they were fragments of the crystal core of the foul beast beneath him.
'Yeah. It's as I thought.'
Before gravity pulled him back down, Yugo flung the second pebble, translocating again and landing — clumsy, but alive — twenty metres from the Negacion. He sprinted hard, ribs burning, then flung himself in the opposite direction, deliberately turning his back on the monster.
The beast lunged, tongue and tail lashing in unison—
But they never reached Yugo.
Both appendages struck a dome of blue light that shimmered suddenly into existence. The impact thundered, but the barrier did not yield.
Not a crack. Not a flicker.
Yugo stopped running. Certain of his safety, relief steadied his breath. Within the protective dome he crouched by a travel bag wedged between two boulders. From it he drew bandages, a vial of green liquid, and a handful of combat knives.
He swallowed half the vial's contents — its bitterness searing his throat — then stuffed the rest into a waist pouch. He then bound his injured arm tight, grit his teeth, and began planting the knives in the grass around him, forming a rough circle.
Settling cross-legged in its center, he watched the Negacion thrash uselessly against the barrier.
Calm returned to his eyes.
He lifted a finger and traced patterns in the air — delicate, deliberate.
An arabesque took shape, a spiral stretching into an arrow. He raised his finger high, then leveled it at the beast.
"Falas."
Immediately, the arrow screamed forward, striking through the monster's lifted paw. Black blood splattered the barrier that still refused to bulge.
"Falas."
A second arrow burst through one of its eyes.
"Falas."
The third drove deep into its shoulder.
"Falas."
The fourth lodged in its chest.
The Negacion's cry of agony made the ground quiver. It staggered, then roared and rushed back.
Yugo rose, snatched one of his knives, and flung it through the dome, aiming for the dashing beast. The instant the blade crossed the barrier, red sparks erupted across its surface.
When it struck the monster's hide, the sparks detonated into arcs of electricity, feeding on the gases secreted from its grotesque body. Flames licked across its scales.
Knife after knife flew, each one embedding, each one igniting searing current. The beast faltered, body convulsing as smoke and fire spread.
'I don't have much time... or strength left.'
With the Negacion slowed, Yugo planted another set of blades. But the monster, shrieking in rage, gathered its strength for one desperate assault. It hurled itself into the dome with such force that the earth shook. The barrier shuddered, fragments crumbling, but steadied again, whole.
The beast vaulted high, blotting out the dim sky.
Yugo drew another spiral. This one grew upright, into a crimson spear, above the dome.
"Diaer Falas!"
The spear launched upward and impaled the beast mid-fall, severing its third right leg. The limb crashed down, quivering on the grass a dozen metres away.
With that, the Negacion's descent ended in a bone-cracking crash, its shrieks shredding the air. Still, it forced itself upright.
Yugo stood up, holding the hilt of his sword, and pricked the tip of his thumb with the tip of the blade, again. A few drops of blood came out as Yugo tilted his bloody finger downwards, letting the blood drip onto the ground.
The red liquid flowed down to the engraved runes and mixed with them.
He then began to chant.
"May the words of the prophet flow like water.
May the starless sky unite with the inexhaustible souls.
May the scarlet light illuminate the void.
May the dawn retrace its curve at this point.
May death's black flame burn impurity.
May the tarnished mother awaken in blood.
May the lamb leap into the fire.
May the red harvest begin."
The knives around him, arranged in a circle, blazed yellow, then blue, and finally red. The earth trembled. Pebbles rose from the ground, caught in swirling winds.
The Negacion attempted to strike the barrier — which clearly was starting to irritate it — once more, but was thrown back by a surge of power.
"Nib Racoltta."
Barely had Yugo finished uttering his spell, that scarlet threads exploded from behind him in a mass of dozens, perhaps hundreds.
They whipped around the Negacion, binding its legs, yanking them apart, bones cracking in sickening bursts. Black blood sprayed. With a guttural screech, the beast was lifted, suspended above Yugo like a sacrificial offering. Its pale orange belly-glow pulsed weakly.
Yugo's sword elevated upward and traced the air, severing one limb after another. A diagonal cut split the slimy hide, then another the opposite way, crossing the wound into a gaping X.
He stepped beyond the Kilith barrier, planted his blade into the ground, and gestured his arabesques once more. The threads tightened, stretching the Negacion's body taut.
Though Basura-class were simple-minded brutes, this one understood something in its primal core — Despair.
In its supposedly not existent mind, a cruel truth had taken shape: it was prey, and the human below was the hunter.
Yugo threw a stone, transposed itself to it, appearing right in front of the beast's abdomen, and drove his sword deep into the glowing seal. The blade carved downwards, tearing the creature in two. Viscera burst out in steaming torrents. A cloud of gas choked the air.
Landing hard, hair flying, Yugo tore his sword free.
"Nib Recoltta... Messis." He whispered through clenched teeth.
The threads enveloped the Negacion like ropes binding a sheaf of wheat. Slowly, inexorably, they constricted until the beast's body collapsed a few moments later, unraveling into a rain of black dust.
Kneeling, Yugo reached into the dissolving carcass and drew out its core: a massive purple crystal, pulsing with veins and tissues, that Yugo discarded with disdain. He stared at it for a long moment, then put it away.
As the last fragments of the Negacion scattered to ash, his eyes flickered with regret, fury, and sorrow.
He exhaled.
"Be purified." he whispered, his grip tightened so firmly that his knuckles were turning white.
He collected his knives, shouldered his bag, and retrieved a shard of rubble from his pouch. His thumb, still bleeding, pressed to the sword's runes. Kilith surged through him.
The runes engraved on his blade spread over him, and in one breath he spoke a spell.
"Mero Displacium."
The world blurred.
***
Rickard and his group were already on their way to the refuge. But every few steps, he glanced back, hoping for a glimpse of scarlet glow. None came. He sighed, tightened his grip on his crutch, and urged the others on.
At the next crossing, a voice rang out behind them.
"Sir! Sir! Wait!"
Rickard spun — and there was Yugo, running hard despite his wounds. Rickard signalled to Lavitha and his son to stop, but before he could blink, the youth was before them.
"Sir, I've been looking for you." Yugo said, panting.
"O–oh?" Rickard stammered, startled.
He took a closer look at Yugo's attire, then he bowed, and quickly motioned for Lavitha and Luka to do the same.
"Young master... to see you alive after such a battle — it is an honor. Forgive us that you suffered wounds for our sake."
Yugo frowned and shook his head.
"Please, don't say that. Without you, I might not be here anymore. Thank you Mr.... ?"
The older man blinked.
"Rickard. My name's Rickard. This is Lavitha, and my boy Luka. Truly... you humble us."
"No. You helped make this victory possible. If there's anything I can do to repay you, ask for it."
Rickard hesitated, then glanced at his crippled leg.
"Well, my son, this young lady and I are on our way to the nearest shelter. It would be great if you could see us safely to the shelter... that is all I ask."
Yugo smiled faintly.
"Done."
He told them to grip his arm and waist. From his bag, he drew a badge, bit his lip until blood welled, and pressed the stained fingers to his sheathed sword. The runes glowed with blinding red light.
The world shivered.
When Rickard opened his eyes, the stone walls of the shelter loomed before them.
Stunned, he let go of Yugo's shirt and bowed low.
"You have my gratitude."
Yugo waved it off, waited for them to step inside, and made sure no one else was coming.
Then he followed and took a step forward—
And collapsed.