"Oh no…" Marichi groaned, barely standing, his dagger still clenched in a hand slick with black blood.
"Can you just… shut up," Jorel mumbled, struggling to rise, using his sword as a precarious crutch.
"Why?" Burtu's breath came in ragged gasps, black blood dripping from his temples as he rocked himself on the ground.
"Why?!" His voice fractured, then swelled with a surge of raw anger.
"Burtu, you have to understand. It was the only way," Marichi forced himself forward while his feet buckled beneath him.
"Or didn't you see how the whole fight was playing out?" He stumbled, collapsing to the ground.
"No… No…" Burtu shrilled, recoiling.
"Don't you dare near me!" He shouted, shuddering back.
Burtu looked down, memories of the fight flooding his mind. The relentless pummeling both Jorel and Marichi endured.
They might be right… But…
"Do you know what I went through?"
"What I felt?" His voice cracked, brittle with pain.
"Yeah, and you deserve it." Jorel chuckled, a hollow, breathless sound. He lay sprawled, too drained to even twitch a muscle.
Burtu's eyes widened in immense horror, fixed on Jorel. Marichi, too, stared at Jorel, a chill creeping through his blood-stained skin, as if Lezschill's multiple hands were writhing beneath it.
"I don't!" Burtu retorted, slowly, shakily rising to his feet.
"I didn't deserve any of this!" He screamed, hands flying to his head, fingers digging deep into his skull until black blood spurted.
Black blood…
Marichi's gaze fixed on the pooling crimson, his mind already grasping its terrifying implications. He looked around himself, a growing dread churning in his gut.
His mind then whipped back to Lezschill's words, the chilling moniker of seedling. Goosebumps erupted across his body, his face suddenly stark with a quick, terrifying realization.
How?
Was he always a seedling?
Is he a threat now?
Marichi's heart pounded, a drumbeat of rising panic. He tried to move, but the hands still lodged in his shoulders writhed, sending spasms of excruciating pain through him.
Burtu wobbled, his breathing still heavy, fragmented, then slowly raised his head, fixing his gaze on Marichi. All other sounds began to drown out, only the ragged rhythm of his own breath was audible.
Ten…
Why didn't I just leave him?
He's the one that came up with using me as a shield in the first place!
He gritted his teeth, his hands raising into the air, trembling, pointed directly at Marichi.
…
His furious thoughts cut off as his vision sharply swung towards Jorel.
If it wasn't for him, none of this would've happened!
I would still be at Slov.
Caes would still be back in Slov…
We wouldn't be here!
I wouldn't be here!
"It's your fault!" Burtu roared, marching forward, his teeth clenched, his finger stabbing the air towards Jorel.
He slipped on the slick, black blood on the ground and fell. In its wake, Jorel felt a tremendous, unseen force just graze his face, blowing Lezschill's body wide open and knocking Jorel violently to the side.
Marichi's senses heightened as a primal fear seizing him as he watched, mesmerized, Lezschill's exposed corpse and Jorel's prone form.
Jorel groaned, his dispersed mind slowly re-collecting itself. He dragged his body farther from the corpse, leaving a fresh smear of black blood.
No… It can't be…
He cursed under his breath, then ran out of energy, collapsing, still far too close to the ruined body.
He still possibly can't be alive?!
Jorel groaned, forcing his body to turn and look at the corpse.
Burtu then forced himself to stand once more, almost slipping again. His eyes tore at Jorel, who writhed weakly on the ground.
Yes… Yes! It's all because of you!
Visions of Caes dying to Blutsatchel's red shards overlapped with the instances of Burtu's own death and resurrection, every memory now tainted with a horrifying, inky blackness.
Burtu huffed heavily, one of his legs buckling forward. His face was a mask of pure hate, the traumatic visions playing on an endless, maddening loop.
What just happened?
Marichi thought, his gaze darting to Lezschill's corpse.
He's dead…
It can't be…
A final retaliation?
He wondered, his heart's beat growing heavier, deeper, as his eyes frantically searched for an answer.
Then, by fate, or pure, cruel coincidence, his eyes settled on the limping Burtu, walking towards Jorel. Marichi's mind clicked, the pieces falling into place, a chilling, cruel realization of the situation.
"Seedling… of course…" He whispered, trying to force his muscles to respond, feeling only the familiar, reassuring weight of the dagger in his hand.
Die! Die! Die! Die!
If you live… then die all over again.
A shrill echo of Burtu's voice pierced Marichi's head, tears slowly welling in his eyes.
Over and Over and Over!!!
The internal voice dragged, then overlapped with his own desperate thoughts as he finally arranged his leg, planting it firmly, and pushed himself into a run.
Jorel saw Burtu coming. He tried to stand, but his body was a dead weight, every nerve unresponsive. Even his eyes felt heavy, all he could do was breathe, each inhale a rhythmic preparation for the inevitable. Burtu launched a fist, his body oozing raw bloodlust, poised to shatter Jorel's head.
WHOOSH---
Burtu's eyes pulsated with dark energy, his fractured mind focused solely on ending Jorel. He was moments from smashing Jorel's head in.
---KRK!
Blood spurted from his throat as he lost balance, tilting to the side as black gushes erupted from his mouth. He landed on the ground, his hand instinctively reaching for his throat, where cold steel kissed his fingertips. Realizing who it was, he turned his head towards Marichi.
There he stood, Marichi, his hand still extended from throwing his dagger, breathing heavily as every muscle screamed in protest.
Even though that won't do anything…
It'll at least slow him down…
Right?
Marichi asked himself, forcing himself to stand upright. Lezschill's hands remained lodged in his shoulders, his muscles tearing against the effort.
"Just stop whatever you're doing, Burtu…" Marichi said, his voice surprisingly calm despite his near collapse. He almost fell, but caught himself, feet stumbling for purchase.
"You… Don't think you're right, too." Burtu wheezed, pulling Marichi's dagger from his throat, which immediately, grotesquely, healed itself.
"Wearing that mask of yours, but still as bad as him." He pointed at Jorel.
"You even gave the idea of using me as a human shield…" He calmly said, then casually played with Marichi's dagger, examining it. With blinding speed, he threw it, sending it embedding into a distant wall with a sharp thud.
"How about that black dust thing and plants…" He smirked, flicking his fingers in the air, a dark energy gathering around him.
Marichi couldn't answer. He just faced his head downwards, his eyebrows contorted in a painful mix of fear, sadness, and guilt. His hands fidgeted, unable to find comfort.
"I know what I did was wrong!" He shouted, lifting his head.
"But look…" He almost slumped again, spreading his arms wide, a desperate plea.
"We defeated Lezschill, didn't we?" He chuckled, a strained, humorless sound.
"We're still alive, and that's because everyone played a key role." He forced his feet to move across the ground, slowly walking towards Burtu.
"Most especially you… Without you, we'd all be dead."
"Y-You saved us…" He raised a trembling hand, pointing at Burtu, while his other clenched his abdominal region, trying to stem the bleeding.
"So… Don't waste---"
"For the last time…" Burtu lowered his head, his voice dangerously quiet.
"Stop trying to spell out everything for me!" He let out a jagged shout, and the very ground began to tremble, bringing forth more of those earth bubbles.
"I am the older one, for crying out loud! Having a bunch of children do this to me." He let out a pain-filled shrill, swaying his head, his brows tightened, cheeks clenched.
"Making me go through that…" His voice reclined, a phantom pain spreading through his body.
"And thinking you can go away scott free!" His voice immediately picked up again, surging with rage. He lunged towards Jorel, easily picking him up from the ground with one hand.
"Unhand me at once!" Jorel shouted, struggling weakly in Burtu's grasp.
"Burtu, no!" Marichi shouted, reaching out a hand in desperation.
"You absolutely have no right!" Jorel flicked his sword, sending it slicing into Burtu's stomach.
Burtu was silent, his breath dragging. Black blood crept out from his stomach, then he let out a slight chuckle, dark and chilling.
"No right?!" he answered back, his deranged eyes piercing directly into Jorel's soul, dropping Jorel's sword to the ground with a clang.
"I have no right?" he repeated, the words dripping with scorn.
"You carried yourself to Slov, disturbing everyone there." He shouted, droplets of black blood spraying on Jorel's face.
"Discussing only the gods know what with the Kumigara and then cutting off Isan's hand!" Burtu's eyes widened, his pupils shaking in raw terror.
"Also forcing me to have to ride you, for all that time, your complaining and whining and shouting." He used his free hand to massage his head, rolling it around, his eyes strained so far upwards that veins pulsed beneath his skin.
"If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be here." He sharply looked back at a quivering Jorel, helpless in his hand.
"If it wasn't for you, Caes would still be alive!" His voice groaned with a premature, sluggish heaviness, choked with grief and rage.
If only he knew…
If only he knew that it was me.
Do I really need to tell him?
It might delay him killing Jorel…
But we'll still both end up dead.
Marichi's mind frantically spun, his subconscious screaming that there was no escape from this.
But then, his neurons clicked, a spark of the same primal energy that might have set early humans apart from other animals---that was creativity!
"Yeah, you're right…" Marichi slowly said, his voice measured.
"You even have every right to kill him." He continued, walking slowly, deliberately.
"Trust me… I would want to do it too." He said, and Jorel looked at him, a raw anger bursting through his watery eyes, his body trembling with betrayal.
"But…"
---The end of chapter 39---