Judgement Blood: A Celestial's Vendetta

A galloping sound filtered between the trees and undergrowth and reached them muffled and distorted. But not so much that Cenric wouldn't pick it.

Cenric turned to his companions and hissed at them to draw closer. 

"A Salivitian scout is rushing through the area. Heading Southeast."

Alexander frowned. "Where is-"

"He's west of us at the moment."

Ilyas tilted his head. "How do you know it's a Salivitian?"

"Because the last western scout of the Retreat is with us."

"A horse gallop Southeast... They're heading for the centre then. Or the edges," Alexander added.

Cenric nodded, "Which means there is another Salivitian encampment up ahead, probably also part of the Eastern Offensive Army."

"But what could a scout possibly have seen to the west. I mean, isn't that exclusively Salivitian territory?"

Cenric shook his head. "No, not necessarily from the west, good sir. Their route could be deceptive or altered depending on the scout's circumstances. What we should focus on is the fact that they are coming from the north."

Alexander smirked. "They are delivering information."

Henry's eyes widened, but he didn't say anything. 

"Intelligence, oh dear Intelligence, how precious," Alexander cooed, rubbing his hands.

Ilyas, too, knew the significance of what was insinuated. A mischievous grin creased his face behind the mask. "Oh, I see. He he he."

Cenric cleared his throat. "What we are intending within our hearts, gentleman, is quite... dishonourable."

"Hm," Alexander muttered. "You are quite right."

Ilyas flicked his head between them in bewilderment, then coughed out, "Really now?"

They turned to him.

"I mean, we really haven't been honourable for a while now. Alexander, you remember Rum, right?"

Alexander pursed his lips and stared for a while. Then-

***

They were hiding in the thickets.

Waiting.

According to Alexander and Cenric, the scout was going to pass the trail they were stalking. 

'Goddammit, I feel like a highway robber!'

Ilyas was crouching alone, Twinblade at his side, oak familiar in his hand.

Sweat-

'Ah shit. I've done this before. Goddammit, how miserable!'

Cenric was somewhere near him. Either to the left or right, he couldn't remember. Alexander was on the opposite side.

The plan was simple. 

The scout will gallop past and will sense an ambush. Ilyas and Cenric would be forced to come out, revealing them to be the only ambushers. Alexander, meanwhile, will remain concealed both physically and with his Imitation. And just as they did with Rum, he will appear from behind once the scout is sufficiently distracted by Ilyas and Cenric.

Except...

Except this plan was a little more shameless.

Henry, meanwhile, would sit this one out. His condition wasn't really fit for fighting, and there wasn't enough Sanguiniser for him to completely stem the bleeding. 

During this unbearable waiting period, during which everything was touching, poking, and provoking Ilyas in the bushes, his mind began to wander.

And it sadly wandered to someplace unpleasant.

'...But-But like just how big is their family really? Are they like a major power in Salivitia, or just mildly relevant?"

And also-

'Forensic Imitators? Forensic... Imitators. Argh, I just want to know if I'm screwed or not! Or, if I am, how screwed am I? Goddammit, Ilyas, you just had to go along and kill their son, didn't you!'

But he had no choice. It was really over for him when that bastard Rye decided to go after him.

'They're going to figure out my blood soon, then what? How would they link my blood to me? They barely even know me? Do they have Imitators and Congruents for that, too? Ah, damn, the surface!'

A rhythmic thundering pounded the ground nearby, getting closer and closer, disrupting Ilyas's unpleasant thoughts.

The plan was about to commence.

'Okay. Okay, we can do this. Overwhelm the cannibal to death.'

The thundering of hooves was imminent now.

'Deep breaths, Ilyas, deep breaths.'

Rustling of trees and undergrowth was growing personal. 

'Here we go.'

Ilyas gathered his courage and stepped out onto the trail, Twinblade held with both hands.

Directly after him, Cenric with his rapier, stepped out and stood abreast of him, facing their approaching adversary.

Cenric and Ilyas briefly faced each other, nodded, then looked ahead.

Ilyas, unfortunately, glimpsed Cenric's trembling paw as it tightened around the small hilt. 

'Stand strong, Cenric, you adorable thing, we will make it out.'

Drrrrp 

Drrrrp

Drrrrp

Drrrrp

The scout came into view, glimpsed them, then clattered to a halt, horse whining as it did.

The scout stared at them in confusion.

Then tilted his head and stared some more.

He was quite the burly figure, to say the least. Being shrouded in all those swathes wasn't obscuring much. His face was ugly and flappy, but hardened with-

'It doesn't matter! Let's just get this over with!'

Ilyas gulped and put on a resolved expression behind the mask.

"What a curious thing you have there," the scout grumbled in amusement. "It is a bit uncomfortable to look at, though." He took a moment, sighed, then looked around, pondering the trees, saying, "I'm assuming you two are part of the Retreat, and are here to prevent me from delivering information?"

Ilyas and Cenric turned to each other, then back at him, nodding.

"Yes, yes, I figured. I guess sending two wasn't enough, so now they've sent two more. Although I could use the nourishment. And the coin. Ah, but the horse cannot carry much more."

'Huh? The Retreat has already sent people to intercept him?'

That wasn't very reassuring.

Cenric thought so too, with the way he redjusted his stance nervously. 

The scout dismounted with an exhausted grunt, straightened his clothes, then plucked his finger. 

He bled.

A heavy axe coalesced from his blood. A cruel, silver steel, with a similarly cruel, abraded shaft. The beast of a man hefted it on his shoulder and stepped forward.

"May I ask you two a question before we commence?"

Ilyas and Cenric remained silent once again, then Ilyas shrugged. 

"Are you two good or bad?"

'What?' 

The thought escaped his tongue. "What?" He blurted it blankly.

The scout rumbled a laugh, then repeated, "Beyond this war. Beyond all our differences, are you two good... or bad?"

'Is he asking if I was a bad person before all this nonsense?'

Ilyas turned to Cenric again, who looked back at him with the same level of confusion.

Then Cenric said, "Why do you ask?"

"Well, my manner of killing is much too brutal and ugly. Not everyone deserves such an end. And this war is purely dictated not by what we believe and our actions, but by what we are. So I ask once again, are you two good or bad?"

Cenric blinked, then fumbled for an answer. "I... I... uh... I am not. No, not that I remember. I was a butler before all this."

The scout nodded. "I will say, Pugman, it was just a formality for you; I was never going to be harsh with an adorable pup like yourself in the first place." The scout raised his axe and pointed it menacingly at Ilyas, eyes narrowing at him with animosity. "But him. I just need his confirmation. My guts are crying at his rot."

Ilyas looked around him frantically. 

'Huh? Is... is Alexander behind me? I mean, I did hear pride is quite the sin to have... Wait me?! Why?! What do you mean?!

Ilyas stuttered something with his unnerving mechanical voice. "Me? Is... is this because of my greed? You know about my breakfast habits? Wait- wait, how do you know?"

It was then that his voice reminded him once again of what he looked like, and he sighed despondently. "Yes. Yes, I am."

'There is no point. No point in trying to convince him.'

The scout smirked. "Well, then... Let's feast."

Cenric readjusted his paw on the hilt. 

Ilyas brandished his Twinblade gracefully and pointed it at their adversary. He wasn't close to being relatively good with the thing, but he could at least hold it right.

The beast stepped forward, smiling darkly.

Ilyas shoved everything aside, narrowing his whole life, once again, to him and his enemy.