Chapter 949 - 948: The Boy Who Did Not Scream (Golden Gachapon Bonus - )

[A/N: This bonus Chapter is thanks to Kollum. She really is the best.]

——

The upper face of the mountain came down in slabs larger than houses.

"Damn it!"

The God of War wrenched himself out of the impact hollow. A boulder struck his raised shield and burst, showering his face with gravel.

He slipped beneath the next, kicked away from a collapsing ledge, and emerged from the avalanche.

But crimson light was already beside him.

Simon’s palm struck his breastplate.

All six wings beat.

BANG!

The god crashed back into the mountain’s broken shoulder, and Simon drove him through it. Rubble tore past them until daylight appeared on the other side.

The Chaos Blade vanished into Simon’s heart.

His right fist struck the god’s face.

BANG!

Blood scattered through the dust.

Simon drew back for another blow.

Fury twisted the God of War’s bloodied face, then he opened his mouth.

War God’s Roar!

ROOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAARRRR!

The sound struck before Simon could brace himself.

Dust flattened into expanding rings. The remaining cliff face burst outward, and the air slammed into Simon’s chest hard enough to wrench him away.

His vision lurched.

For an instant, he could not distinguish upward from downward. Blood ran from his ears, and something savage in the roar demanded that he flee.

Pride resisted that terror.

However, it could not stop the sound from battering his body.

A weaker creature caught this close would have died before hitting the ground.

Simon spun through the air. What remained of his shirt tore away, and his wings folded unevenly around him.

The god used the opening.

Iron-grey light streaked down the valley.

Simon forced his wings apart.

The mountains tilted before his eyes, then steadied. UnholyRegeneration worked through the damage inside his ears, and the ringing began fading.

He spat blood.

"That’s new," he said with a smile.

Then his vents opened.

Wind drove him forward. Crimson lightning spread from his legs to his wings, and thunder followed each violent increase in speed.

The god looked back.

He had gained a lead, but it was already disappearing.

His injured body could not match the acceleration behind those six wings.

Simon closed the last few body lengths and reached for him.

———

The warning bell in Miresti village had not stopped ringing.

"A demon is coming!"

"Leave the carts! RUN!"

Families jammed the narrow road. Mothers carried children against their chests. Fathers dragged older ones through gaps between frightened horses and overturned bundles.

A man fell beside the well.

People stepped over him, then upon him.

His arm reached between their legs until a wheel rolled across his chest.

Near the village’s edge, a woman stood inside an open doorway with both arms around her son.

He was fifteen, almost her height.

She held him tighter each time something exploded beyond the hills.

Inside, his father knelt before an old wooden box.

The latch caught.

He struck it with his palm, muttered a curse, and forced the lid open.

"Here."

He placed a dagger in his wife’s trembling hand.

Then he drew out a sword.

Its leather scabbard was scuffed. The boy had seen his father oil the blade many times, but had never been allowed to take it outside.

Now it was pushed into his hands.

"What is happening, Dad?"

His voice was steady.

He could feel his mother shaking. He could see people running past the window.

But his own fingers did not tremble. His eyes followed his father’s hands without fear.

"A rift opened not far from here," his father said. He took a pouch of coins from the box and fastened it at his waist. "We thought the Carpathian Front would stop the demons from advancing into Earth."

"Didn’t they?"

"I don’t know."

The answer came too sharply.

His father paused, then lowered his voice.

"Brezan village warned Soweli village. Soweli village then warned Velin village. Their messages said powerful demons were coming this way."

Another crash sounded.

"Now none of them answers. Our scouts saw the destruction. We cannot stay in Miresti anymore."

He gripped his son’s shoulder while holding a sword of his own.

"Keep that sword. Stay between us."

His wife nodded without speaking.

They moved toward the door.

The boy’s father stepped outside first.

Then stopped.

Above the village, two figures hurtled downward.

One had wings.

The other was caught beneath him.

His mother saw them.

Her arms closed around her son again.

His father turned back, reaching for both of them.

"DOWN!"

BOOOOOOOOOOM!

The village square sank.

A wall of broken earth swept through the streets, carrying carts, doors, and roof beams ahead of it. Houses collapsed before the people inside could reach the windows.

The bell tower broke at its base.

Its final note ended beneath falling masonry.

At the doorway, the boy felt his mother pull his head against her chest.

His father’s weight struck them both.

Then the wall came down.

———

Opening his eyes hurt.

Dust scratched beneath his lids. Something heavy lay across him, and every breath scraped his throat.

"Mum?"

His voice sounded far away.

He shifted beneath the weight.

Her arm was still around his shoulders.

For a moment, he thought she was holding him down until the danger passed.

Then he saw her face.

Her eyes were open.

A thin trail of blood ran from her hair into the dust beneath her cheek.

"Mum. We have to go."

She did not blink.

He tried lifting her arm.

It fell against him without resistance.

The boy stopped moving.

His gaze travelled past her.

His father lay across the fallen doorway, one arm stretched over them. A broken beam pinned his back, and his chest had been crushed beneath the wreckage.

The pouch at his waist had torn.

Coins lay among the splinters beside his hand.

The boy stared at the fingers that had gripped his shoulder.

"Dad?"

Nothing.

His eyes widened.

His lips parted, but no scream came.

A little earlier, his father had been angry with a stubborn latch.

His mother had been holding him too tightly.

They could not simply stop moving and responding to him.

"Mum?"

He waited.

"Dad?"

He waited longer.

However, the only answer came from somewhere beyond their ruined home.

A woman was screaming for help.

Another voice kept asking someone to wake up.

The boy turned his head.

Miresti was gone. The peaceful village he knew of was no more.

The bakery had become a heap of bricks. The lane where he had raced his friends ended inside a crater. A cart wheel turned slowly above the body trapped beneath it.

Most of the people in the village would never rise again.

Those still moving crawled through the wreckage, some bleeding, some dragging limbs that would no longer carry them.

He could not find the well.

He could not find the bell tower.

Then movement inside the crater caught his attention.

A demon stood over a fallen man.

The first demon he had ever seen.

Six wings spread behind a black-skinned body. Ivory stripes crossed its exposed chest and shoulders, and four pale horns rose through long white hair.

The man beneath it had red hair.

His battered armour gleamed iron-grey.

The boy could not understand the pressure coming from either of them. His thoughts stalled beneath it, and for several seconds he forgot that he needed to breathe.

His hand shifted.

The sword’s scabbard had split beneath the rubble. His fingertips brushed the exposed edge.

The small sting gave him something he could understand and brought him back to reality.

He looked down.

The sword his father gave to him.

Keep that sword. Stay between us.

The boy drew a shallow breath as he recalled his father’s words.

Then another.

He could think again.

His fingers closed around the hilt.

———

The God of War stared up at Simon with hatred burning through the blood on his face.

Simon stood over him, one foot planted beside his ribs.

His grin widened.

Then he punched the God of War again.

BAM!

The god’s head struck the broken paving. Blood spilled between his teeth.

Simon opened his right hand and the Chaos Blade appeared.

The god’s pupils contracted.

Iron-grey light erupted beside his shoulder.

A broad axe swung upward toward Simon’s waist.

Simon caught it with the black blade.

But a short spear followed beneath the axe, forcing him to turn and beat his wings backward before it could enter his stomach.

The god rolled away and rose.

His first step was toward open air.

More weapons formed behind him, hastily arranged to keep Simon back.

However, a sword swept too high and a spearpoint wavered.

Simon slipped between them.

Their power was thin compared with the attacks that had greeted him at the rift.

The god realised it too late.

Wind snapped around Simon’s legs.

He crossed the remaining distance.

The Chaos Blade moved toward the god’s neck.

The God of War’s eyes widened.

Black flames erupted along the crimson edge.

For one stretched instant, the god saw the fire reflected across his damaged breastplate.

His remaining hand began to rise as time seemed to slow down.

The blade passed.

SHIIINNNGGG!!!

A head flew into the dust-filled sky.

It turned once above the broken rooftops.

Then the head landed on the ground.

Thud!