Battle bonds

Chapter II: Battle bonds

The floor was arid in front of them, a blatant fabric painting on which the war mess was painted. Jereman followed, with the heavy anonymous fate on his shoulders, the courage across these excavated landscapes. Their steps were the only sound of miles, except for the cross-wind thick that disturbed the silence of the world that seemed to hold its breath.

Gehrman's mind was in a spiral of questions. Every step that I took away from the answers he sought about his sudden arrival in this world. However, the presence of the black duel gave something like a direction, and a concrete goal in the middle of the mess.

As they cross the war-torn plains, Guts finally broke the silence that settled between them like a coffin. "You're talking about monsters and dream, starting with a low voice." This place has his own nightmares, Hunter. Here, the line between human and monster diminishes with every moment passing.

Gehrman noded with his head, and his looks focused on the horizon. "I've seen men turn into monsters, and monsters were once men." The dream I served was a cycle of these shifts, and endless chase to stop a wave of crazy.

"The crazy luxury here, said Guts putting his handle on his huge sword handle." "Survival requires reason, even if the world around us is descending to hell."

Their exchange was a fabric of common experiences, woven by loss leads and the constant pursuit of their duties. For Gehrman, this stranger's world was not quite different from his world -- a place where humanity was a fragile crust above a reality full of horror.

When the sun started to land, throwing its long shadows on the ground, Guts suddenly stopped. We have a village, or what's left of it. The buildings turned into debris, and the air is contaminated with the smell of mold. This was a scene that Gehrman knew well, and it was a scene that happened following a wrong chase.

"Stay awake, Hunter, warn Guts and his eyes check the rubble." "We're not just."

Gehrman's grip was tightened around the sythe, and his senses extended to the aurora, looking for the obvious signs of latent predators. It's not long before they reveal themselves -- creatures, ugly inhuman, and their shapes are twisted by some strange will like they're out of hell.

Without one word, Guts rushed forward, and slit his dragon killer's sword into the air with terrifying precision. Gehrman followed him, and his syth in the dying light, every silent mass blow to the lives he sent.

The battle was fierce but short, and it was a violent interval that ended as fast as it started. Following calm, Guts turned to Gehrman, referring to the ingenuity of the hunter.

"You're not bad, Guts screamed almost reluctantly." "For someone who's not from this place."

The Gehrman response was a sarcastic little smile, which is rare for him, but the respect he gained in the battle was a coin he understood. "Not you, you bastard." It seems that our meeting was just a coincidence.

They settled in the rubble at night, and the fire was burning between them sharing their stories -- the stories of monsters and fishermen, sacrifices and conflicts. In the sparkling fire, Gehrman saw glimpses of his past, and his friends' echoes disappeared a long time ago.

Their conversation has woven a fragile bond, the kind that can only be formed in the battlefield. And while the stars were invading the sky, Gehrman thought about this unexpected kinship, a relationship that was born of blood and blade.

Now, this world was chasing him, and in Guts, he found an unexpected ally. Together, they will face the darkness, and their cross-codes will be a beacon at the creepy night.