Chapter 65: Sacrifice
The city of Helgarde, once a bastion of civilization and order, now lay in ruins under the crimson moon. The cobblestone streets were stained with the blood of the innocent and the corrupted, the buildings scarred by the battle's fury. The once-bustling cityscape was now a silent tomb, with the minarets of the cathedral standing tall, their shadows stretching like skeletal fingers across the carnage.
Virgil emerged from the shattered remnants, his eyes sweeping over the chaos that had consumed the city. He saw Enigma and Vidan, as they clashed with a pack of Lycans.
„The town is almost completely mine," he thought to himself as he heard noise coming from the direction of the church.
....
The High Confessor was by now a large, humanoid creature of about 3 meters. Its body was covered in a thick layer of black, shaggy fur and it had long, twisted limbs that ended in sharp claws. Its face was deformed and had a split snout from which a dark, shadowy substance oozed.
The creature's eyes were pools of pure malice, burning with a fiery hatred that seemed to light the very air around them. It let out a shrill scream, the sound echoing through the narrow streets of Helgarde, shattering windows and making the very buildings tremble.
With a flick of its massive hand, it sent Aldwyn and Master Sewell hurtling through the air like ragdolls. They slammed into the walls of nearby houses with a sickening crunch, the impact sending plumes of dust billowing out into the night. The force was enough to knock the wind from their lungs and leave them dazed, stars dancing in their vision as they struggled to regain their bearings.
Virgil observed him from a distance, "I'll let the high confessor deal with this, then I'll take care of him... I just need to get some rest." he whispered to himself.
Aldwyn and Master Sewell pushed themselves up, their bodies protesting against the pain. The creature advanced, its steps like the tolling of a funeral bell. Master Sewell, his face a mask of grim determination, reached for his sword, his arm trembling.
The creature lunged, but Aldwyn, using his shadow-merging abilities, slipped aside, becoming one with the darkness of a nearby alley. He felt the creature's malicious intent like a physical force, his heightened senses allowing him to anticipate its movements. His twin blades sliced through the air, carving a silent path towards the beast.
Master Sewell, though injured and weary, was not one to be easily cowed. He invoked a sacred rune, the ancient symbol glowing briefly on the cobblestone before dissipating into a cloud of holy light that momentarily blinded the creature. Taking advantage of the opening, Aldwyn struck again, his silver eyes piercing through the dark.
The creature, now fully enraged, swiped its massive claws in a wide arc, catching both Aldwyn and Master Sewell in its path. They were tossed aside like leaves in a storm, their bodies slamming into the hard ground with a sickening crunch.
„Fuckin' hell... Everything hurts..." Aldwyn thought to himself as his body screamed in pain.
Master Sewell forced his body to his feet again, his sword arm was broken and went down his body.
"Don't give up Aldwyn! Don't forget what the Hall of the Sword stands for... Protecting the people and Helgarde...to the death!" He shouted.
Aldwyn looked at him in surprise, „How can one person have that much willpower?"
"ALDWYN!!!" Sewell suddenly screamed.
Aldwyn, unaware, looked towards the creature and saw its claws coming towards him a few meters away. He widened his eyes, anticipating his death.
„My body is no longer moving... I simply have no more strength... Is that the end for me?" Aldwyn's last thoughts raced through his head.
But before the creature's claws could reach him, a figure appeared out of nowhere, throwing itself into the path of the lethal swipe. It was Gustav, his eyes wide with determination. The claws pierced his chest, sending a spray of blood into the air. A look of shock and pain etched onto his face.
Aldwyn was speechless for a moment before he could spit a single word out, "Gus.... Gustav?" His voice cracked with disbelief and grief.
Gustav's body trembled as he clutched the creature's massive arm with the last of his strength, his eyes meeting Aldwyn's. In that moment, there was no anger, no regret, only a silent understanding that passed between them.
Aldwyn pulled out his revolver, the silver gleaming under the crimson moon. He took a deep breath, focusing his mind on the task at hand. The creature paused, seemingly surprised by the sudden intervention.
[Bang] [Bang] [Bang] [Bang]
With cold precision, Aldwyn fired four shots into the creature's head, the retorts of the gun echoing through the desolate streets. Each bullet was a declaration of war, a silent promise to rid the world of the malevolence that had taken root in Helgarde.
The creature's head snapped back with each impact, the force of the blessed bullets sending it reeling. The black ooze that had once been its eyes now spattered the cobblestone, the malicious light within them extinguished. The creature's roars of fury turned to gurgles as it stumbled, the very essence of its power waning.
Master Sewell stumbled over to Gustav, his eyes filled with a mix of horror and sorrow at the sight of his fallen comrade. Gustav looked up at him, a weak smile playing on his lips despite the pain.
"Master, I'm sorry... I didn't mean for it to end like this," Gustav whispered, his voice barely audible over the creature's dying growls.
Master Sewell knelt beside Gustav, "You did what you had to, what you always did, what you were taught to do at the Hall of the Sword," he replied, his voice a shaky whisper.
Gustav coughed up a mouthful of blood, before he closed his eyes forever.
Master Sewell took a shuddering breath, the weight of Gustav's sacrifice settling heavily on his shoulders. He looked over at the creature's lifeless body, before turning his gaze towards Aldwyn.
Aldwyn's form was a tapestry of bruises and gashes, his clothes shredded and stained with crimson. His silver eyes were glazed over with pain, but a fierce resolve burned within them.
He approached the creature, the revolver still smoking in his hand. The creature's massive body twitched, a final act of defiance against the inevitable. With a snarl, Aldwyn aimed the last two bullets into the creature's chest, ensuring the monster would never rise again.
The creature's body convulsed and then stilled. For a moment, silence reigned supreme over the battle-scarred city. Then, as if responding to an unseen cue, the creature began to dissolve, the fur and flesh peeling away like burned paper to reveal a swirling maelstrom of shadow beneath.
The swirling mass grew, coalescing into a single, malevolent eye that hovered in the air. The eye grew larger, more defined, until it was a sphere the size of a carriage. Then, with a sound that was both a wail and a screech, it shot to the Crimson Moon.
The sky around the moon grew darker, the crimson hue deepening to a shade that seemed almost black. The air grew thick with dread, as if the very fabric of reality was about to tear apart. The ground beneath them trembled as the eye reached the moon's surface, and a beam of shadowy energy erupted from the point of impact.
"What the hell is happening here?" Virgil asked himself, shocked by what he was seeing.
Even Enigma, Vidan and the rest of the Lycans froze the fight and stared in shock at what had just happened.
The crimson moon, which had loomed over Helgarde like a bloodstain on the sky, was no longer a silent observer to the carnage below. A fissure grew across its surface, widening like a mouth gaping in a silent scream. The crack grew longer and deeper, until it could no longer contain the pressure from within. With a deafening roar, the moon's surface burst open, sending a river of glossy, crimson energy cascading down towards the earth like a waterfall of blood.
The city streets filled with the eerie liquid, rising to knee height, as the very fabric of the night was torn asunder. The buildings groaned and shifted, their foundations straining under the unnatural weight. The energy was not water, but a thick, viscous substance that clung to everything it touched, leaving a sticky, pulsing residue that seemed alive with malicious intent.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone