Chapter 186: Let’s do that again

Tyler hit his head and blacked out immediately. Blood ran down the side of his face, into his unmoving eyes.

The second general came down and stood beside the first.

The first one frowned. "I didn’t need your help."

"I don’t care whose help you need." The second one said, "We already drew the short straw when we attacked, with Richard in this place, but now we have bigger problems."

The first one narrowed his eyes.

"What?"

"Protector Nel; disciple Haliad; disciple Muon; disciple Myai. They are all present. Richard is not alone."

The first one went rigid.

"What? We weren’t told that. Are you sure you’re certain?"

"I saw them having tea together. They let me get away."

"Then let’s abort." The first one said, "We’ll carry news back—"

"Hold on a second..."

They both turned.

Tyler dragged himself to his feet. His eyes were still unfocused.

"We’re not done here."

He staggered.

"Hold—"

The first one already got to him, swinging the large sword at his face. He leaned back and watched the blade pass his eyes, and before he could react, the second general was behind him.

A got punched in the gut, so hard he heard his rib crack.

He crashed into a rock, blood trailing down his nose.

"Let’s go." The second general instructed.

The first one frowned, but followed behind.

Tyler’s fist trembled. His lips stretched wide, and he laughed.

They stopped.

"Ambushing a child. That’s surprisingly low of you both." He stood up again.

The second general frowned. "What’s up with him?"

"I can’t...see straight," he staggered forward. "...This is it." His shoulders began to shake.

"This is it. This is it." A cracked laugh bubbled out of him. He lifted his face, and the grin on it was wrong, too wide, blood in his teeth. "Give me more. Hit me again."

"He’s nuts." The first general concluded. He turned around and began to walk away. Tyler’s eyes followed him.

"Huh? Where are you going? Come back."

Tyler lunged.

It wasn’t a clean motion. His foot caught on a stone and he pitched forward, fist swinging wide. The first general sighed, pivoted on one heel, and met him with the flat of the great sword.

The blade took Tyler across the ribs. He left the ground, spun once in the air, and hit the dirt ten paces away, skidding through gravel until a boulder stopped him.

Silence. Wind through the dry grass.

"There," the first general said. "Now let’s go."

A cough. Then a wet, scraping sound as Tyler’s fingers dug into the earth.

"...Again."

The second general’s jaw tightened. "Tough one."

Tyler rose in pieces. Knees first, then one hand braced on his thigh, then the rest of him, swaying like a drunk on a ship’s deck. His left arm hung wrong.

"I think it’s broken."

He was still smiling. He rasped.

"That one. Do that one again. I almost felt it."

"Gods, he’s insane," the first general muttered, and this time he turned fully, raising the sword. "Fine. I’ll put you down properly."

Tyler ran at him.

The second general moved at the same instant. A heel caught Tyler under the chin, snapping his head back, and the first general’s blade came down across his shoulder in the same breath. The two blows landed like a door slamming.

Tyler hit the ground face first and rolled onto his back.

He didn’t get back up this time.

His eyes were open, reflecting the pale sky, but his chest did not move.

The second general went to him,l crouched, pressed two fingers to Tyler’s throat, and held them there for a long moment. He stood.

"Dead."

"How shallow." The first general slid the sword over his shoulder. "Let’s hang his head on a spike. I’m sure it will spark a war between Salvador and black empire."

"We don’t have time for that. Our priority is to report back."

"Sure. Sure."

They turned and had barely moved before a sound stopped them.

The second general looked back first.

A thin thread of light ran along the line of Tyler’s cracked knuckles. Then cracks appeared in his skin and began to glow, one by one, spreading up his wrist, his forearm, the broken arm straightening on its own with a wet pop that made both generals raise a brow.

The first general muttered. "I felt no pulse."

The young man pulled himself to his feet, swaying heavily.

"...hehe..."

The air around the body shimmered. Grass curled and blackened in a widening ring.

Tyler’s chest heaved once, a huge gasp like a man surfacing from deep water, and his eyes snapped open.

They were no longer unfocused.

They were burning.

Flame poured from his mouth, his eyes, the open wounds along his ribs. It rose around. The rock behind him cracked down the middle.

Tyler stood in the center of it, head tilted, laughing softly as the fire climbed his arms like gloves and forged a mark on his skin.

"There it is," he said, and his voice came out layered, hoarse beneath something far older. "I knew it was in there."

He looked at the generals.

"I had to get it out somehow right?"

He threw his head back and laughed, and the fire answered louder, almost like it was reacting to him.

It spread outward in a ring, rolling across the battlefield like a living tide.

The mud boiled. Stones cracked and glowed, then slumped into molten pools. The bodies of the fallen, caught one after another until the whole plain was a field of burning shapes.

"Beautiful!" Tyler shrieked, walking forward through the inferno, fire dripping from his fingers. "Isn’t it beautiful?!"

The distant treeline lit up. Trunks split with sounds like cannon shots, and the forest collapsed into an ocean of flame.

At the center of it, Tyler turned in slow circles, burning, blistering, grinning. Then he stopped.

"What was it...?"

His eyes locked unto the men.

"Right. I was in a fight. Let’s do that again."