Judgement Blood: A Celestial's Vendetta

Ilyas smiled.

Behind the glint of the axe, there was another, more slender glint-one fit for the most proper Pugman in the world.

Slick.

Cenric delivered a surgical slash to the bastard's tendon behind his knee, and the scout buckled.

In that state of brief confusion, when the scout was committed to ending Ilyas's life, Alexander finally flashed an entrance.

The scout could only cock his head over his shoulder in horrified distress before a beautiful silver longsword swung full force at his back, hacking flesh and bone apart. 

Alexander was a ghost.

He could not be sensed unless he wanted to.

And the only declaration of his arrival to the boar was his steel tearing apart his back. 

"RAGHHHHH!" The scout bellowed in agony. His eyes reddened with rage, and his temple vein bulged so much that his skin seemed transparent.

'That's it! That should do it, right?!'

But...

But their enemy didn't stumble and fall. He didn't succumb to the lethal wound that parted him from behind.

Instead, he roared and rose to his feet, axe parting the air, swatting Alexander's sword away and forcing him to the floor.

Alexander's eyes widened in horror. And so did Ilyas's and Cenric's.

Only Cenric remained standing, both paws trembling as they tightened around the tiny hilt. He looked up at the monster before him, bulbous eyes widening and quivering. Ilyas could swear he heard a whine seep out of him.

The scout didn't care anymore. 

"COWARDS!" He bellowed once again.

Ilyas looked at Cenric, then down at his ribs.

He mulled it over.

He mulled it all over in his head, face wincing, sweat dripping, teeth grinding.

He mulled it all again, and again, and again, and-

"Agh! Goddamn it all!"

Ilyas sprang to his two feet, clasped the shaft of his Twinblade, and pitched that thing like a bloodydamn spear.

It was a flimsy, embarrassing throw that could barely intimidate a cat, but it did enough.

The scout turned to him, grimacing like a rabid animal, a slight hunch in his stance.

"Let's jump this bastard! No honour!" Ilyas yelled. 

'Wait, will they understand what I mean by 'jumping' him?'

Alexander's eyes flicked to him, then back at the boar. 

With the scout still regarding Ilyas after that throw, Alexander darted towards the enemy from behind, weaponless, and threw himself at the scout. His hands wrapped around his neck, tightening and restraining him.

Then, from below, Cenric scurried and attached himself like a leech to the leg he had wounded earlier. With his rapier not in hand, Cenric resorted to extreme measures and bit into his enemy's leg like his ancestors would.

Ilyas, meanwhile, rushed at the scout. Their eyes met, and what Ilyas saw was fear and a hint of confusion. Maybe finally tasting inevitability.

The bastard didn't expect it, that's for sure.

With whatever mobility his body allowed him, the scout made an abysmal, desperate swing with the axe, relatively easy for Ilyas to dodge.

And once Ilyas was close enough, he bashed his forehead against the bastard's nose.

Crunch!

"No-" Ilyas cried in hungry malice.

He didn't risk his fists. His mask could heal.

He drew his head back again and-

Crunch!

"-Honour!"

Under the bloodied snot and the caved nose, the scout's expression was one of utter befuddlement and horror. He gaped unblinkingly at Ilyas, mouth fumbling to cry something, but gurgled blood instead.

Crunch!

After the third strike, Alexander and Cenric had done enough to immobilise him, and he slumped to the floor.

Still alive. But writhing in pain.

"No honour!" Alexander joined in as he raised his leg and brought his foot down, stomping on their enemy's face with all his frail might. 

This very much caught Ilyas and Cenric by surprise, distracting them for mere seconds as they looked at each other, frowning in confusion at their friend's out-of-character remark and action. 

Then, Ilyas shrugged and joined in, stomping on the bastard's face. "Die, you big ugly brute!"

Cenric was the last to join.

Very unlike him, but the Gentlepug did well to resist the urge this long. He truly was the most proper.

All three surrounded the scout and stomped on his face continuously without a break. 

"You want to eat?!" Alexander taunted. "Eat this, you disgraceful boar!"

"You're existence-" Cenric cried between his cute stomping, "-Is... wrong!

Ilyas truly did feel quite proud of his friends.

The scout's face was becoming more and more unrecognisable by the second. His resistance grew weaker, and his gurgling of blood grew more disturbing. 

This, unfortunately, reminded Ilyas of Benjamin and sobered him in an instant. 

"I think... I think he's dead now," Ilyas muttered dubiously, retreating. After a few extra stomps, Alexander and Cenric tentatively stopped, too, with Alexander adding an extra kick for good measure. 

'Ouch. Wouldn't that hurt his toes?'

Ilyas then looked around frantically, searching for something. "Actually, wait... uhhh, stay here just in case."

The two nodded, catching their breaths and watching him curiously. 

Ilyas left their little morbid circle, eyed his Twinblade, then shook his head. He couldn't be asked to hold his heavy love at the moment. He then eyed the rapier and decided on it. 

After retrieving Cenric's rapier, he returned to the scout, grimaced disgustedly at the sight, then handed Cenric his weapon and gestured to the scout. "You want to uh..."

Cenric caught his breath, cleared his throat, and then nodded. "Yes... yes fine idea, good sir."

Alexander and Ilyas watched in disgust as Cenric very slowly and hesitantly pushed the rapier's tip into the scout's throat, and then slashed it. 

Nothing changed in the scout's body. He was still as motionless and limp as he was.

'Oh, he really is dead then. Thank goodness.'

***

Some time later, Ilays, Cenric, and Alexander were gathered around their supplies in the same spot where they had fought the scout.

They left the corpse where it was for the meantime, intending to bury it later. In fact, Henry was already starting to dig the grave. They couldn't dispose of the body randomly or keep it where it was, since that would invite the Forest beasts to their trail. So, unfortunately, they would have to at least honour that Salivitian a little.

Ilyas was lying on his back, chest heaving, staring at the sky. Alexander was lying similarly somewhere near him, eyes narrowing at something irrelevant above, but also catching his breath. Cenric, meanwhile, used Alexander's leg as a pillow and was focusing on blowing a pine needle out of his mouth after it got stuck some time ago. Alexander didn't even resist Cenric, and Cenric didn't care that he was using him. 

In fact, none of them had said anything in quite a while now. All of them were absolutely haggard.

Eventually, between rapid breaths, Ilyas muttered, "Ah, shame... shame what happened... to that duo... the Retreat sent to intercept him, right?"

Cenric had finally rid himself of that needle. "Indeed. May they find... peace... in the Celestes' embrace."

Alexander had a sudden coughing fit and abruptly sat up. 

"Stay still... You scoundrel," Cenric complained as his pillow withdrew.

"It's a bug," Alexander muttered, looking at what he coughed out. "I must say, I cannot wait to leave this Celeste forsaken forest."

Ilyas and Cenric nodded in firm agreement.

Wouldn't they all?

After another bout of silence, Alexander cleared his throat. 

"Ahm, I think it goes without saying," he said gingerly.

Cenric sighed, "Indeed. No one can know of our deplorable behaviour today."

"At least..." Ilyas mumbled, "At least we didn't eat him."

Alexander and Cenric chuckled painfully. 

"See, there's always somewhere lower to stoop," Ilyas added.