Burtu pointed, then recoiled, his eyes wide, fixed on empty air. Marichi, baffled, spun around, finding nothing but echoing silence. His gaze darted frantically across the surroundings, a knot of confusion tightening in his gut.
Where?!
A strangled thought tore from his mind.
Where?!
His inner voice raw with disbelief.
Where?!
Where?!!
He spun, his head twisting like a madman's, his body subtly edging away as if pulled by an invisible tether.
Finally, a frustrated growl ripped from his chest. He lashed out, his hands slicing the air in desperate, futile arcs, his feet shuffling a frenzied dance on the unseen stage. Burtu watched, a fixed, horrified gaze frozen on the spectacle.
"Hah! Good luck finding it," Lezschill scoffed, his fingers idly kneading Jorel's shoulder.
"What do you mean?" Marichi's voice was a ragged shout, strained with a desperate edge.
"Oh, look at you, raising your voice as if it holds any weight." Lezschill's tone dropped, a predatory purr, as a black-toothed grin stretched across his face. Marichi froze, his body still trembling, his mind a sudden, terrifying blank.
"All bark, but no flesh, huh?" A condescending voice, sharp as a shard of ice, sliced through Lezschill's taunt.
"Well, look." He then flung Jorel, a ragdoll, towards Marichi and Burtu.
ACK!
Jorel hit the ground with a sickening thud, a ragged gasp tearing through his lips as he struggled for breath. Every inch of his body screamed in protest, a dull ache throbbing beneath the surface. Tiny, glistening black lesions, like inkblots, blossomed across his skin. Marichi's gaze flickered to him, a low groan escaping Jorel's lips.
"Here's your sword." Lezschill's toss was dismissive, the blade skittered across the ground, coming to rest near Jorel's head with a dull clatter.
Lezschill exhaled, a slow, drawn-out sigh that seemed to drain the air from the room. He settled into a monk's position, two hands resting on his thighs, the others cradling his face.
"I've grown quite bored."
"I thought fighting you would entertain me, and you did, don't get me wrong." He paused, a contemplative stillness about him, his gaze distant.
"But…what's the point of fighting?"
"Especially when it's futile." Lezschill's lips curved into a smirk, his eyes, like obsidian shards, impaling each of their souls.
Jorel's head lifted with a tremor, a hand pressing against the cold ground for purchase. His jaw clenched, muscles bunching, as he slowly, agonizingly, pushed himself upright.
"I'm not done with you yet!" he rasped, his voice a raw, reedy rasp, like a bat's cry echoing from a deep cavern.
"I am Jorel Ujochi the Second, goddammit!"
Doesn't this bastard know when to stand down?
Marichi's eyes tore away, a hand almost extending, a silent plea to stop the fool.
"No one dares to treat me like this!" Jorel's voice was a guttural growl, his grip tightening on his sword as he snatched it up, the blade glinting as he readied it.
"Hmm…Ujochi?" Lezschill's brow furrowed, a flicker of genuine curiosity in his tone.
"You're an Ujochi?!"
"So you do know my clan," Jorel said, a faint smile of self-satisfaction touching his lips, even as his body trembled.
"Yes, of course, I do." Lezschill's fingers tapped a rapid rhythm against each other, a sound almost cheerful.
"I'm surprised that your clan still exists till now." He let out a burst of laughter, a sound both oddly cowardly and undeniably mocking.
"Arrgh!" A frustrated roar tore from Jorel. All reason evaporated, replaced by a red haze as he launched himself at Lezschill, his sword held low, a coiled spring of desperate aggression.
"Wait! You moron!" Marichi's hand shot out, seizing Jorel's cape before he could take another step.
Here comes the bickering.
Hope they actually kill themselves this time. Lezschill thought, his body twitching, a subtle shiver running through him as if fighting an unseen craving.
"What do you expect to do?" he asked, as Jorel, unbalanced, stumbled and fell to the ground.
"Unhand me at once!" Jorel snarled, his eyes burning with desperate rebellion.
Yeah, let him go.
Him dying right now would make things feel better for me.
Burtu wheezed, his breath shallow and ragged.
"So you could go off and die?" Marichi rebutted, his grip firm.
"We have stabbed and cut him countless times, but look at him." Marichi pointed a shaking finger at Lezschill, whose unsettling cackle echoed, black blood oozing sluggishly from his mouth.
"Totally unphased."
Jorel's breath hitched, a desperate rasping sound as he fought against Marichi's iron grip. His eyes, burning with a singular focus, were locked on Lezschill, consumed by a primal urge to bury his sword in the man and claim a hollow victory.
Just who is he?
He extended a strained, trembling hand, veins bulging, towards Lezschill.
And who does this guy think he is?!
He twisted, his face contorted in disgust, and then violently slapped Marichi's hand away from his cape.
He lunged forward, but Marichi's reflex was faster, his hand shooting out to clamp onto Jorel's wrist.
"You are not going," Marichi's voice was a deep, unyielding rumble, his eyes burning with a fierce resolve.
"Can't you see that the reason we're even alive right now is because of his mercy?" The cloth covering part of his face rustled with each word with a subtle tremor in the air.
"Don't worry, he can come, I won't bite." Lezschill smirked, his grey, skeletal hands that protruded from his gut slowly caressing each other.
"So just let your arrogance to the side," Marichi urged, sweat beading and trickling down his face as his hands sliced through the air, desperate in their urgency.
But where is that monstrosity?
Why did it stop attacking?
Burtu's eyes darted frantically, searching the empty space around them.
It vanished the moment that strange man sat down…
Is he the one controlling it?
A shiver ran down his spine, paralyzing him with terror.
Jorel roughly yanked his hand from Marichi's grasp, his head bowed slightly, golden-brown hair partially obscuring his eyes.
"Can you just shut up?!" His sword flashed, the tip aimed directly at Marichi's face. Marichi scoffed, a slow, deliberate nod of his head.
"And what do you intend to do with that?" His eyes glistened, reflecting the blade, but he didn't move an inch.
"Then disrespect me one more time and find out." Jorel's lips curled into a menacing smirk.
---The end of Chapter 30---