Capítulo 546: Sleep
Devrim struggled to get his guard up for the next swipe, and Fechin's massive claws raked against his ribs, sending a burning sensation through his chest. The armor held, barely, but the wind was knocked out of him as he staggered backwards.
The silver wolf had a distinct advantage. For Devrim to be most effective, he mostly needed to wield the sword with both hands. But Fechin had five weapons on the end of each hand and foot, any of which could do irreparable damage to the Emperor if they landed in the right place. So even though the battle was one against one, it was not a fair fight.
That was not even considering the difference in strength. With each and every blow Devrim could feel how outmatched he was. His muscles protested against the onslaught of raw power. All the Emperor could do was try to deflect the brunt of the crushing force and look for an opening.
But Fechin was too clever. He chained one movement with the next, giving a never ending assault of motion. Having watched the training of the most elite soldiers, he knew the importance of never letting your enemy have a moment to think, so he continued the barrage without respite.
Humans may have limited stamina, but as a wolf-man, he felt like the reservoir of energy was never ending. This was power. But just as he was beginning to revel in his superiority, Devrim's blade struck against the hair of his left forearm.
Coming up against the resistance of his thick fur coat, it did little damage, but a small stream of blood still appeared where the blade had been. Fechin's eyes went dark as his vision reddened.
He looked up to see Lady Livie chasing after her prey in the air. Fechin would not let her down. If only he could take down the Emperor, his mistress would finally get what she had always desired. Power.
He would give her power by giving into his own. The black pupils of his eyes overtook the blue and white as the predator in him took charge.
Devrim could sense the shift; the semblance of humanity left his opponent, leaving only an animal behind.
'Good.'
The silver wolf crouched and bore his alabaster canines. He was ready to tear through the flesh and bone before him until nothing was left. Fechin's muscles rippled, telling Devrim he was about to strike.
As the silver wolf leapt into the air, the Emperor dropped and rolled his body forward, out of the spot where he had just been. Then, laying flat on his back, he lifted his sword as the wolf passed overhead.
A large gash started in Fechin's chest and continued down his abdomen as he was unable to stop his forward jump. The skin split, as fetid blood oozed out over the ground and the Emperor below.
Devrim shut his eyes and mouth. He did not want to chance infecting himself with the creatures tainted blood. Wet droplets seeped into his helmet, but he tried not to think about it. As soon as his sword felt no resistance, the Emperor rolled to one side and wiped at his helmet to clear it before opening his eyes.
If Devrim hoped that the strike would be fatal, he was quickly disappointed. The silver wolf had already risen to his feet and was clutching his abdomen, a look of hatred and defiance on his face.
Fechin's nostrils flaired, but Devrim noticed his breathing was labored. Whatever the damage that the wolf was hiding with his arm, it was significant.
"Not good enough." The silver wolf rasped, though it was unclear if he was talking to Devrim or himself.
Another creature came at Devrim from behind. The Emperor was about to turn to meet the second threat when the head of the lizard flew in between himself and the silver wolf. As promised, Nurlan was watching His Majesty's back.
Seeing his ally fall, Fechin released a monstrous howl. While not as loud as Livie's screech, it still made the Emperor want to cover his ears. Instead he winced, cueing the silver wolf to charge.
He struck Devrim with a devastating kick and knocked the Emperor to the ground. Devrim's helmet came loose and skidded away.
But he had no time to fetch it as the silver wolf leapt onto his prey to finish the job.
With one desperate arm, Fechin swung back and forth at the Emperor, ignoring each little sting that the sword made upon his body now that he was too close to move out of its way.
The wolf no longer cared for his own safety; all that mattered was destruction of his enemy—even if that destruction was mutual.
Devrim blocked each strike, holding the sword tightly with his armored gloves. His bones protesting the treatment after each jarring hit.
Fechin snapped at the man with his teeth, but the Emperor managed to jerk his head out of the way just in time for the wolf to taste dirt instead of flesh.
The wolf's weight bore down on Devrim's abdomen, pushing out the air from the grey-eyed man's lungs and the contents of his stomach from their place.
It was the second problem that came to a head first. The bit of rations that the Emperor had eaten came pulsing out from his throat and all over his attacker.
Even in his deranged state, Fechin was repulsed by the acidic vomit which now caked his face. He leaned back and shook off the chunks from his fur.
It was just enough. In a split second, Devrim used the short respite to dig his fingers under the wolf's leg and slip the knife from his belt.
Plunging the dagger into Fechin's chest, Devrim released the knife and then held up his sword across his chest with his gloved hands.
As he expected, the silver wolf flailed at the indignity of having the deceptively small blade thrust between his ribs and into his lung.
He tried to roar as he clawed at the human, but his attempts became more and more feeble with each passing second.
Devrim supported his sword above him with all his might. He only hoped his strength would hold out longer than Fechin's. Blood poured out of the abomination's wounds as he bore down on the Emperor, inching closer and closer to the man's face.
With one desperate, rasping whine, Fechin leaned forward, allowing the sword to press into his chest.
But at that moment, the general rammed into Fechin's side, splintering his injured ribs in a series of sickening cracks. Together, the two men were able to push the monster off of the Emperor's body.
In the dirt, Fechin lay still.
There was no time to celebrate the victory as Livie came plummeting from the sky with a terrible screech. Although Devrim had no clue what had happened, he saw the winged woman crash into the tree behind him and dislodge it.
Devrim and Nurlan backed away quickly as the root system burst out of the ground like thousands of deadly, grasping fingers. A few fighters from each side were impaled by the sudden attack from below.
"Mairwen! Brinn!" Devrim couldn't see either of the ladies in the mass of falling tree.
While the oak was still settling, he ran past Livie to search for the ladies.
"We are here!" Mairwen called from the next tree. The princess was doubled over, out of breath, but seemed to be otherwise unharmed.
She looked up and smiled weakly at her father, before her face became tense.
"Watch out!" The Princess lifted her bow.
Livie screeched. She reached forward, her teeth elongating as she prepared to ram into the Emperor and bite him with her bone-crunching jaw.
"Die!"
But just as the monster was about to feast, she convulsed suddenly. The spark of life in her eyes dimmed. Devrim stepped to the side just in time for the woman to hit the dirt. The royal elven knife protruded from her back.
"No!" Fechin's whisper was barely audible above the chaos. The silver wolf fell to his knees, his hand still raised from when he had released the knife through the air to kill the Emperor. If only Livie had not chosen that moment to attack as well. "I have failed you, my lady."
An arrow pierced his chest now, collapsing his other lung. Mairwen had seen Fechin pull the knife from his own chest to throw, but had been unable to stop him in time. Now he would be unable to throw anything ever again.
"I am sorry," he said, looking to the sky.
In a flash, his humanity returned to him and he realized just how much he had done both to please his former master and his now dead mistress. In the end it hadn't been enough.
But he had given it is all, and he could at last rest in peace. With a sigh, he slumped to the ground and released himself to sleep. A sleep from which neither he nor Livie would ever wake up.
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