They Are The Weird Ones

Two words.

Absolute terror. 

As I stare at the horrifying smile of something more nightmarish than a grim reaper, a sudden urge grips me, a primal instinct signaling my body's need to flee.

I suddenly have the strong urge to poop.

My instincts screamed at me to escape but I could not control my trembling body.

But what is the point of running?

I am certain that the abomination would rip my spine off the moment I turn around to flee.

So I remained on my knees, my eyes fixated on the horrifying grin of the daemon as my mind raced for a solution to this horrifying problem.

If I had a distraction...

"Hey! Get out of there!", Suddenly a voice yelled from the side.

I turned my eyes to see him.

The handsome young man I saw in my second battle, the one who questioned my presence among Deathwalkers.

As I watched, he pointed his sword at the daemon, "What kind of an abomination are you?"

He began to channel ardor into his body and released his aura. 

I tried to warn him but my voice failed me.

So I raised my hand to signal him to stop only to realize that my right arm was gone.

I blinked as I stared at the stump that was bleeding profusely.

Huh? My arm was just attached a few seconds ago. It was as if it disappeared when I raised it to warn the young man.

My mind was reeling from what just happened when my eyes turned to the daemon named Asphodel and they widened in disbelief.

It looked at me with its chilling smile as it held something in its hand.

My forearm. Severed from the elbow and still dripping with blood.

All sounds faded away again, even my rapidly beating heart as an insurmountable feeling of dread descended on me as I stared at the horrifying smile of the creature.

Asphodel raised a finger and wagged it at me.

At the corner of my eyes, I saw the young man rushing at the daemon, ignorant of the true horror of the daemon he was facing.

Again. It all happened too quickly.

In my transcendent state, I saw the daemon extend its left hand at the approaching newbie without even a glance in his direction.

It was slower than when it killed all of the other Deathwalkers and daemons.

It was as if it wanted me to witness what it would do.

Immediately, the roots of solid darkness that made up its arm unfurled into tentacle-like appendages and shot toward the newbie.

Before he could even react, the black appendages swiftly reached him, shattered his sword, and entangled him in their deadly embrace.

Before he could utter a word of surprise, he disappeared under the writhing and twisting appendages of darkness.

Then the writhing bundle of dark appendages compressed to the size of a tennis ball.

A single agonized scream escaped for a second before he was crushed into a bloody spray.

The daemon turned its head to watch its gruesome work.

And that's when I seized my chance.

I quickly healed my severed arm and channeled ardor into my legs.

I accelerated my blood and jumped away as hard as I could. I must get away as far as I can from this abomination.

But when do things ever go according to my plans?

As soon as I jumped away, I couldn't feel my legs.

I immediately crashed into the snow and an excruciating pain exploded from my legs.

I glanced down and I quickly realized why I couldn't feel my legs.

That's because I didn't have legs. They were severed from the knees down.

Tears streamed down my face and I screamed out in agony.

With my body trembling from the horrifying pain I saw my legs lying only a foot away from where I was kneeling in front of the daemon.

My eyes went to Asphodel, whose head is now turned toward me and it's creepy as fuck smile petrifying my very soul.

Its arm was back to normal, now slick with the blood of the young Deathwalker and it walked to me.

No teleporting in front of me, no mind-numbing speed. Just walking, like a predator approaching its cornered prey.

Using my remaining limb, my arm I slowly and painfully dragged myself away from the approaching daemon.

It made no move to stop me.

It didn't have to.

The only place I can go to is another pile of Deathwalker bodies. The sounds of battle had become faint now.

Does that mean I am the only one alive in this area of the battlefield?

Shit.

A trail of my blood smeared a new shade of crimson on the snow as I dragged my almost dismembered body to the pile of dead Deathwalkers.

With a painful grimace, I leaned my back against the cold and bloodied remains of humans and glanced at the daemon.

Numerous warnings filled my vision as my Omni contacts took in the terrifying sight of the abnormal daemon ready to eviscerate me.

I took deep shaky breaths to calm myself down and it worked to a degree.

The primal fear lingered but now I can focus on the imminent threat to my very short life.

I am unable to move anywhere right now but I can use my strand.

Perhaps I can summon a pair of tentacles to hold off the daemon?

But what is the point?

The thing taking its sweet time approaching me is an S-ranked abomination.

It would kill me before my tentacles would even reach it.

I gritted my teeth in frustration.

Why now? I was so close to being a full-fledged Deathwalker and this fucker had to appear!

I immediately calmed myself down. No point in throwing a tantrum when I am about to die.

I looked at the smiling face of the daemon and strengthened my resolve.

I extended my remaining arm at the daemon and activated Haema.

With my current strength, I can only use the code once a day and I already used it.

Using it a second time would put an immense strain on my body as the ardor control is huge. 

Yeah. Fuck it.

I am going to die anyway so might as well go out with some bloodspray and a bang.

{Haema: Blood Bolt}

Blood-red runes snaked around my arm and glowed as I activated the code.

This time, I channeled my entire strand into the bolt and concentrated it, making it more powerful.

My wounds began to bleed profusely and blood flowed from my eyes, nose, and mouth as I concentrated the power of the bolt as it formed from my swirling blood.

In a flash of crimson, a two-meter-long projectile of swirling blood took form in front of me and glowed with the power of Haema.

My body trembled and I felt my pain fading as my life loosened its grip on me.

I wonder what would happen if I die this time. Will I go to hell or will Eravon interfere again?

I locked my eyes on the Asphodel which stopped right in its tracks and tilted its head, as if intrigued by the blood bolt I created.

My lips curled into a smirk as I got ready to release the bolt on the daemon.

"Try smiling after this!"

Just as I was about to release the high-powered bolt, a powerful presence descended on me.

My focus wavered for a bit but that was enough.

Since Blood Bolt was a code that required accurate ardor control and focus, the blood projectile rippled and dissipated in a spray of blood and crimson.

I doubled over as a wrenching pain tore through my chest and I coughed out blood.

My vision began to blur and blacken at the edges.

What the heck was that?

As I sat there, retching and coughing out blood, a shadow fell upon me.

I raised my eyes and was quite surprised by what I saw.

I saw the back of a man standing tall between me and the daemon.

His salt and pepper hair swayed in the frigid wind of the mountains and snowflakes settled on the fine fabric of his navy blue suit.

"Commander?", I blurted out, looking at Sir Kay taking out his sword, a silver double-sided blade with sky-blue edges.

Intricate runes on the sleek metal glowed a faint blue as if the weapon was stirring from a deep slumber.

The air hummed as I saw ardor particles swirling around the blade and goosebumps rose on my skin as Kay relaxed his grip on the sword.

A burst of wind swept away the snow off the ground as the tip of the blade rested above the bloody ground.

He looked back at me, his blue eyes glowing with power as he looked at my broken form.

My eyes may be playing tricks on my mind because I saw his expression soften upon seeing my face.

"You did well, Mordred. Now rest."

As soon as those words laden with power fell on my ears, my blurry vision turned black and I felt my body going limp.

I fell to my side and everything went black.

Just before I lost consciousness, I heard Kay address the abnormal daemon.

"How many times has it been, Asphodel?"

*******

"It must've been quite harrowing."

Eravon remarked as he plucked a succulent-looking apple and tossed it to me.

I caught it and inspected the fruit. This time we were in a vast apple orchard that seemed to stretch on forever.

I frowned, "I don't recall ever visiting an apple orchard in my past."

Eraon turned his blue eyes on me, "This world mirrors your dreams and wishes along with your memories. Have you ever dreamed of visiting an apple orchard?"

I stared at the apple for a moment and recalled a conversation I had with Tristan in my old world.

"If you can go anywhere in the world, where would you like to go first?", Tristan asked me when we were relaxing under a tree after a training session.

I remember swaying my head, thinking about the many places I wanted to go.

"An apple orchard that seems endless.", was my answer.

I smiled at the memory of both of us having a hearty laughter after realizing how weird that sounded.

A sigh escaped my lips.

Ah. Those were the good old days.

I looked at Eravon and nodded, "Yeah. I did. It was such a weird wish though."

"I think it's quite reasonable. Who doesn't love an amazing apple orchard filled with rich and juicy apples?", Eravon plucked another apple and jumped off the ladder.

He landed gracefully and walked over to me, "So. You had the misfortune to run into an abnormal daemon."

I grimaced as the disturbing smile of Asphodel flashed into my mind.

"What in the name of the Incarni was that abominable spawn of the devil?"

Eravon looked rather impressed by my question, "That was quite an accurate description, my friend."

He tossed the apple up and down on his palm like a ball, "Abnormal daemons are quite different from your standard daemon."

He gave me a sheepish shrug, "Hence the term 'Abnormal'."

I just stared at him, "Oh. I'm enlightened."

Eravon grimaced, "Anyway. The usual daemon, no matter how strong they are is doing a single thing. Kill brutally and efficiently. It is as if they follow a specific set of rules."

"You saw how organized they were, right? How each daemon match the other's movements when they emerged from the Tear?"

I nodded, "True. That was creepy as hell."

He continued, "Daemons don't take prisoners, they don't take their sweet time providing a slow agonizing death. They just kill. Each strike is unleashed to kill and each action is to deal maximum pain in a short time."

"The only reason Deathwalkers get grievously injured is because they react and try to avoid the killing blow."

I scoffed, "Obviously. We're not going to die just because a daemon wished for it."

Eravon nodded in agreement, "What I meant to say is this. Daemons kill and are brutally efficient in that. It's like they are programmed to just kill."

I took a bite out of my apple and enjoyed the rich taste and juicy texture like I just didn't hear the words 'brutal' and 'kill' a minute ago.

"And Abnormals?"

Eravon sighed.

"You can say that they are the weird ones."