Like ice, the blood began to melt, and it revealed swarms of cityfolk and soldiers whose faces had paled out of terror. Wetting themselves from the sight that did not belong in their world, they panicked aboard evacuation ships, but it caused more of a frenzy. Many were thrown from the pier, overboard, into the freezing sea. No one had the heart to help them to safety, and they were left to drown. Shaken by the chaos, some vessels began to sail away earlier than scheduled, afraid that the hordes would sink them if any more were let on. Knowing that their fate was to be trapped in Haven, perhaps taken as slaves by the Confederacy, some foolish souls leapt into the water and swam, but before they could even make it out of the harbour, their bodies stiffened from the cold and sank into the trail of white water churned by the propellers that abandoned them.
Arminius reemerged from the red hive, perched on a stone throne. When he woke, he found himself nailed to a piece of an unnamed wall with inexplicable pain coursing through him, but it did not feel like he was losing any blood. His body was weak, and he could not move as he wanted. Only when he tried to move his arm, and it did not budge, did he realise the severity of his wounds. He saw that his right limb, flesh and bone, had been mutilated, as the blood turned into a near-liquid form that was more malleable. Yet, his expression had not changed.
Yanking his arm, the boy eventually tore himself free of the blood daggers, and he fell onto the ground. He held himself up with his sword when the crimson red crystals became entirely fluid and showered him, dyeing his body in red. The rain slowly washed away the blood that was not as viscous nor as adhesive as the blood that was flowing within him, as he lifted his head, and saw the colonel walking towards him. However, even with a broken ankle, the deeply scarred boy managed to hold steady on his two feet, and with one functioning arm, he pointed his sword at Eos, challenging him to not spare him the displeasure of ending their duel.
Eos had expected Arminius to be stubborn, and he approached him, inviting him to strike first again, but the boy did not seem to have learnt from his mistake when he lunged at the colonel. When he came into range, he swung his sword, and their blades met for the first time. Arminius’s attacks were precise, and though Eos was able to catch his every move, he could never predict the next. It was surprising to the colonel that he was being worked by a half-dead foe expending the last of his strength that kept him on his toes, his movements becoming more fluid and his strikes stronger, flicking his blade to and fro as if it weighed nothing in his hands. The blade slashed and stabbed at Eos, causing his bones to vibrate with each clash. They wanted to use their Eifers to finish the duel, but having exhausted their powers in their opening moves, they needed to rest, and knowing that neither of their Eifers were available, Arminius desperately tried to keep his enemy distracted.
The lieutenant leapt back and threw the Rus off his rhythm before charging towards him again. Eos’s eyes were focused on his sword, trying to predict his next move, but the lieutenant simply hid his weapon behind his back as he ran towards him. No matter how veteran a fighter he was, not even Eos could have run through every possibility that could happen in time, and he certainly could not have predicted that Arminius would resort to bashing his shoulder into him. Eos stumbled back as the brutish attack stunned him, but it was too late for him to realise that he was already in the shadow of Arminius’s sword.
The blade caught a brief flash of light that came from the sun behind the clouds before it swung downward and cut through the colonel’s armour. A dash of blood showered the ground, and Eos staggered back, launching his glaive into the cobblestone to halt himself, but despite his life cascading out of him, he did not waver. Arminius could not determine whether or not Eos’s resilience came from pure will, but he knew that the same trick would not work twice, so he could only pray it would be enough to defeat him.
Impressed, Eos felt his wound and looked at Arminius. “Your spirit is alight even if you say otherwise.” The Rus stood up, untroubled by what would have been a fatal wound if he were a regular man. “But spirit is nothing without the body.”
His blood became sentient and began to heal his wounds with thread-like arms. Arminius could only look on, sickened in confusion, as he was guaranteed a fate that would not see him cheat death in the face of an immortal being. However, it did not mean that he could not try.
Before the inhuman creature could regenerate, the boy sprinted at Eos, hoping to deal one more strike, but when he swung his sword at him, Eos’s blood bubbled and suddenly exploded out of his chest like whips. The mist turned red again, and Arminius was launched across the promenade, tumbling until he found his ground. His back struck a lamp post, and it felt as though his spine had been split apart. Nevertheless, he rose instantly, fuelled by the delusion that he could defeat this monster.
He dug his feet into the ground despite the pain in his broken ankle as his reserve of Eifer surfaced. He leapt at Eos like a shot of light, who stood with his feet apart on guard, gripping his glaive with both his hands. The streak of lightning masked the boy whose sword aimed for his enemy’s heart, but the colonel’s body moved before it could think.
Eos leapt up and spun around, driving his leg into Arminius’s undefended body. His attack suddenly halted, and he was kicked back, but as the lieutenant stumbled, feeling that his heart had skipped a beat, dazed and unable to stand straight, he saw Eos driving the shoe of his glaive upward before he felt a part of his flesh being ripped from his face.
A stream flowed down his cheek, and half of his vision vanished into the abyss. The sword slipped out of his hand that was brought onto his face as his fingers traced the flow to its source, where he felt flesh. He explored the cavern that had been carved out of his head when he realised that his hand was poking into his skull.
A green eye crowned the tip of Eos’s glaive’s shoe, staring at him, but when he turned to look at it, the blood that surrounded the organ slowly crystallised until it was bound to the steel, before noticing that Arminius’s will had finally shattered. The boy breathlessly removed his hand from his discoloured face, and understood that the battle was over. He only refused to fall.
The colonel’s flesh and skin had healed, and all that remained was a scar, visible in the gash in his armour, a memory of their duel. Eos lowered his glaive, and his blood was liquid again, but even though the battle had been won, he did not approach Arminius. They stared at each other from afar when rifle fire crackled in the distance. Whoever had discharged the shot had quite terrible aim, but the sudden threat was enough to make Eos flinch. He stepped back and saw a sloop fast nearing the pier that dropped her anchor and made a hard turn to the port side before she slammed into the sea wall. A corporal leapt from the ship and landed on the pavement as its engines were started again. Letting out a cry, he swung his sword across the width of the promenade, and out of his blade erupted a wall of ice as if it was summoned out of the ground. He could not control it well, however, and his almost miraculous Eifer sprinted along the wall of the townhouse that shattered its foundations and caused it to waver and crumble. Eos’s vision was masked by a glacier, and he stepped back as the house started to collapse.
Julien wrapped his arm around Arminius, keeping a wary eye on the enemy, and led him towards the sloop where their comrades were standing, yelling at them to hurry. The gap between the land and deck widened, and with what remaining strength he had, the corporal launched himself and his friend onto the vessel. They collapsed, and it seemed his injuries had finally caught up with the advent of his new power, an Eifer, when he could not even rise, but before he fainted, Julien noticed Arminius’s bloodied face and missing eye, not knowing whether he was awake or not. As the corporal’s vision drew its curtains, his wall of ice shattered from the swing of a glaive that sent rubble and shards flying into the crowd, indiscriminately crushing those who thought they were far enough to not be hurt by the duellists. But the sloop had already sailed away.
Abandoned civilians were being rounded up by the Confederate infantry, and officers of the defending militia were executed on the spot and thrown into the sea. As his troops enslaved thousands, Eos emerged from the bluish mist.
Distraught with a touch of fury that he had not felt in years, the colonel looked on at his fleeing enemy. “Regen, would you allow the shame of abandoning your word to trample on your honour here?!” The eye on the shoe of his glaive stared at him, as he raged, his tensed fists squeezing the blood out of his cut palm.
A gunshot rang out, echoing through the air, marking the end of Haven. Eos felt something hot embedded in his flesh, and when he lowered his gaze, he saw blood pouring out of his stomach. In there was the last bullet his enemy had in the chamber of his pistol. Its barrel smoked, pointed at the colonel, who turned his focus to Arminius, who had managed to sit upright despite all the wounds he had suffered. His face was blank, but his eye was filled with cold flames. It slowly closed as he fell on his back, his comrades crying out for him as Arnau knelt down to assess their injuries.
The despicable sloop sailed farther away from land, and Eos burrowed his finger in his wound to dig out the bullet. It clinked as it struck the ground, but his regeneration seemed to have slowed. He gazed outward at the empty sea with muted screams filling the air, his face wet with the warming rain that came when winter had gone and the march of war renewed.284Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgziWbRK5t5
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