The Wastelander

by Tipsy Wanderer

  Son of a bitch! He’s right on our asses!

  Brandishing his staff, the young wastelander glared into the forest. There, a dark figure emerged, surrounded by a mist-like haze of sand. A strange, echoing voice hissed at Cloudhawk.

  “Did you think you could run?”

  The demon! The motherfucker was back.

  The Queen’s body was still recovering, but she gripped her cross tightly in her hand. Holy light radiated from it anew. Although she was already beaten bloody and simultaneously wracked with pain from the panacea, she was still determined to die in combat.

  After their first encounter, she saw how inadequate she was before him. She was no fool. She didn’t expect to win – but perhaps, she could help Cloudhawk escape!

  Everything, all of this had come about because of her. Getting him involved was an accident.

  He’s a good man with a lot of potential, maybe even more than me. Perhaps, he can do what I’ve failed to accomplish. He has to get to safety, even if it kills me!

  The demon’s eyes were unblinking, seeming like deep and ancient wells. He seemed capable of peering into one’s heart. He issued a strange chuckle, which sounded like the quiet call of an owl. As he extended his right hand, the sand surrounding him gathered and formed an awl-pike suspended in midair.

  The beast slowly extended his hand, and the pike shot out like an arrow. The air warped under the pressure caused by its rapid passage.

  The demon’s target was neither the demon hunter nor the new outpost leader who had betrayed him. It was the one between them: Cloudhawk. While they were fixated on the pike, none of them noticed the sandy tentacles that were creeping along the ground towards Cloudhawk. His legs and half of his body were quickly wrapped up, preventing him from dodging. He could do nothing but watch his doom approach.

  Shit!

  The Queen watched with wide-eyed dismay because she knew it was already too late for her to save him. The danger that pike posed would be fatal to her, much more so for the untrained Cloudhawk.

  At this critical moment, a lithe figure swept in front of the young man. Artemis swung her mighty hammer and knocked the sand pike out of the air. However, the indomitable power of the attack also broke her weapon into metal splinters and sent her flying like a kite with broken strings. Flesh and blood splattered over the peaceful green of the oasis.

  Suddenly, Cloudhawk’s eyes turned a bloody red!

  He broke free of the sandy tentacles like an enraged fiend. With a speed and strength he’d never displayed before, the young wastelander charged forward.

  The exorcist rod awakened! Its three-edged point spun like a tornado and began emitting a fiery light that swallowed the whole area.

  The exorcist rod was not a fire-element relic, but the intense friction caused by its rotation released heat. It was so extreme that the oxygen in the air caught fire. Cloudhawk had channeled all of his psychic power, all of his strength, and all of his anger into his staff for this attack.

  B-o-o-m!

  Trees shook as concussive force ripped through the area, with buffeting winds tearing off chunks of bark and countless leaves. The demon did not dodge, did not flinch. He just stood with his open palm raised, the tip of Cloudhawk’s smoking stave resting inertly against its center.

  “Respectable.”

  The demon’s understated praise was punctuated with a gentle push of his hand.

  Cloudhawk was launched away as though shot out of a cannon and crashed into a tree.

  The exorcist rod was flung to the side like so much detritus. When the demon looked down into his palm, he noted cracks had formed around the point of impact and purple blood had begun to leak free. Less than two seconds later, the bleeding stopped.

  The Bloodsoaked Queen raced into the bushes where she found Cloudhawk convulsing on the ground. He was covered in wounds, but his glaring red eyes burned with murderous intent. The will remained, but he hadn’t the power to lift himself up off the ground.

  Several of his ribs were broken.

  The damage wasn’t inflicted by the demon – the creature throwing him away could not be considered an assault. Cloudhawk had done it to himself through overexertion. Berserker rage like this was rarely seen. He was like a wild dying animal. “Let go of me! I’m gonna kill him!”

  This isn’t your fight, the Queen said to herself. It isn’t your war! This battle is for demon hunters!

  She held him tight, tears mixed with blood streaming from beneath her mask. This is my fault. It’s all my fault. My fault!

  The demon’s unblinking, unfeeling eyes watched everything. His hands began to accumulate power once again, but this time, it was the Bloodsoaked Queen – blazing cross in hand – who stood to meet him. She fixed her enemy with an unyielding gaze. That pious holy warrior had returned.

  Her sights never left the visage of her arch-enemy. “You can have my life, but you must let him go!”

  He answered her with a curious expression writ on his face, “A demon hunter giving her life for a lowly wastelander? If your gods knew about this, they would be disappointed!”

  She made no attempt to argue. She growled each word through gritted teeth. “Let. Him. Go.”

  The demon’s voice was cold as the depths of the grave. “In reality, our world is a fair one. Bad decisions come with consequences. His death is not on my hands. Your stupidity, arrogance, and pride are what killed him.”

  The Queen held no hope that her request would be granted. The brutality of demons was well known. What mercy would they show for those they deemed a threat? No, if she wanted to protect Cloudhawk, the only way to do it was to fight with all she was worth. Perhaps, she might harm him enough to dissuade the monster. She had to try, no matter the cost.

  The Queen’s holy sword blazed ever brighter. With her left hand resting on its pommel, she channeled the power of her Burning Angels through it, turning its pure white light into a fiery orange. The heat was so intense that the grass around her withered and shriveled up.

  “Very good. This is the proper posture for battle. Asking for mercy is a display of the weak.” The demon reconstructed his sandy blade and held it tightly in his grip. “As a reward, I shall tell you something. Whether you believe me or not – I was not the one who killed your father.”

  “Do you think I would trust anything a demon says?”

  “It doesn’t matter. You are young, and the world is not as simple as you think. Unfortunately, you won’t have an opportunity to learn this for yourself.”

  The Bloodsoaked Queen drew on all of her power, all of her potential, and swung her burning blade towards the demon in a vicious chop. A roiling plume of fire and smoke followed in its wake that lit the dark forest.

  He lifted his sand-sword before him to block the attack. Strong as he was, confronted with the brunt of the Queen’s potent faith, he was forced back. The lapping flames started to burn and crack his sword of sand – but he could see cracks forming in hers as well.

  The sound of something snapping filled the air! Both the demon’s sandy blade and the Queen’s burning holy sword shattered!

  The demon reeled, his body peppered with wounds. They leaked a viscous purple fluid that did not stop. This time, the Queen’s attack had wounded him.

  But it was not enough! Still not enough! A few superficial cuts meant nothing to this nightmare.

  The Bloodsoaked Queen fought for breath as the cross slipped from her fingers and fell gently into the grass. Despite being covered in her blood, it still gleamed with blinding light.

  The demon slowly lifted his arms whereupon wicked spikes emerged as protrusions all over his body. “Are you prepared?”

  She forced herself to quit panting and stood tall like the image of the goddesses of old. Even though she was covered in blood and faced an impossible situation, she stared at her conqueror with adamant courage.

  Cloudhawk fought back onto his feet. “Stop!”

  The demon paid him no mind. He pressed forward with a ha
nd, and the spikes were cast forth. Sharp as daggers, they pierced the Queen, some even running her through and bursting out the other side.

  Cloudhawk watched with wide, stupefied eyes as the strongest warrior he’d ever known collapsed to the floor. It was like watching his whole world crumble. From Mad Dog and Slyfox to Artemis and the Queen, everyone he’d ever known was gone.

  As the demon recovered, he looked at Cloudhawk, peculiar fluctuations rippling through its pupils. “Are you… angry? Do you feel hate? Indignation? Humiliation? Let those emotions free. Let me see the depths of your potential!” [1]

  Cloudhawk didn’t have his staff. It was lost somewhere in the grass. Instead, he rushed over to the glimmering cross and snatched it from the ground. A relic this powerful was outside of Cloudhawk’s abilities to command, but he didn’t think about it. His mind was caught in a white-hot rage where nothing existed except charging forward even in the face of death.

  It didn’t matter how strong or how fierce he was, this demon had to die!

  In the midst of his blinding rage, the stone resting against his chest once more began to vibrate. A psychic pulse a hundred times stronger than Cloudhawk’s poured into the cross and resonated with it. When the holy sword reappeared, it was so bright that it was like the sun appearing in the middle of the dark forest. Everything was bathed in light.

  The light was a column of dazzling power that pierced the heavens. Even the soldiers far away in the outpost could see it splitting the night sky.

  A fervent light sparked in the demon’s dead eyes. “Good… very good!”

  Cloudhawk swung the sword.

  The demon reacted by lifting his hand, and the sand around him reformed into four or five walls. When the light came crashing down, it split them like paper before finally devouring the demon himself. The power struck the beast head-on, pushing him back thirty feet until – with a shrill and terrible scream – the beam drilled through him.

  “Die!”

  Cloudhawk heaved the sword high and brought it crashing down again. The demon was cut into two halves, with the light of the holy sword disappearing the moment it split him. Cloudhawk slumped to the ground, supporting himself with his hands and knees as he gasped for breath.

  He was dead. Finally, dead! At last, that fucking demon was gone!

  Only, Cloudhawk didn’t want to accept what it had cost.

  1. This is similar to the exchange between Cloudhawk and Stranger Black, perhaps indicating how much the demon builds a cult of personality. Or it could just be the author likes this method of taunting.

  92 A Cunning Game

  The column of light split the night and then disappeared, all in less than three seconds. The severed halves of the demon lay in a pool of blood. All of it happened so fast… it was inconceivable that this invulnerable enemy could be laid low by the weak and insignificant Cloudhawk.

  Despite her terrible injuries and the blinding pain, the Bloodsoaked Queen was still conscious. She couldn’t believe what had occurred before her very eyes. The beast was so powerful, and yet Cloudhawk had killed him. How had the young wastelander done it?

  Yet, that wasn’t what confused her most. How was she even still alive, much less alert? It made no sense that she would survive after being impaled by the demon’s spikes!

  As she examined the damage, the Queen discovered something odd. While the demon’s attacks had run her through, they had also completely avoided all the major organs. Stranger still, they didn’t sever any important arteries or even shatter bone. They had slipped through her body with perfect precision.

  What was going on? Did the demon spare her life? Had he done it just to infuriate Cloudhawk?

  She found it difficult to accept, but what other alternative was there? It couldn’t have been a coincidence, could it? Why would the demon do this? Why didn’t he kill her? She was a demon hunter – they were mortal enemies!

  Was his aim to humiliate her? That didn’t make any sense! Demons didn’t trouble themselves with such nonsense.

  What’s more, the demon had recognized her potential. Why would he risk letting a future master demon hunter live? If she survived to become a full-fledged hunter, even if she didn’t come for him, she would put down other fiends like him. His actions just didn’t fit the essence of who he was!

  The Bloodsoaked Queen painfully pulled herself back onto her feet. Though these wounds would have been fatal to a normal person, she would recover. Moreover, the effect of the panacea was still actively working through her body, so she didn’t need to take any special measures except to pull the spikes out.

  Dozens of finger-sized wounds oozed blood, but after a minute, they stopped. Her flesh was slowly knitting itself back together before her eyes thanks to the panacea. Despite the number and severity of the injuries, with the help of the injection, they would be gone in ten days to half a month. She’d be back in fighting condition.

  Panacea was a medicine that drew on a person’s potential, essentially overclocking the body’s own functions. The Queen had used three of them over a very short period, which could make the rebound effects worse. There was a risk the side effects could cause long term damage that would be difficult to recover from. Now that her mission was accomplished, she would need to rest for at least a couple of months.

  She stood on unsteady feet and looked at Cloudhawk. “How were you able to summon that kind of power?”

  The Queen’s cross sword was an heirloom relic. To use it, one needed more than just a particular level of talent. Even her father would have found it difficult to command the holy sword like Cloudhawk just did. How many secrets did this kid have hiding up his sleeves?

  When he saw the Queen standing, Cloudhawk’s face lit up. “You’re alive?”

  She looked back at him, speechless.

  “Artemis... where’s Artemis?!”

  He remembered how she threw herself in front of him, but when he found her, Cloudhawk discovered that she hadn’t been as lucky as the Queen. In deflecting the blow, her hammer had detonated, spewing hot metal in all directions. Many of them tore through her body.

  He kneeled beside her and saw that her chest was a bloody ruin. Several of her organs had been critically damaged.

  Artemis didn’t have any healing capabilities, and she’d given the last panacea injection to the Queen. They didn’t have anything to help her, no method to bring her back. She saw the concern and anxiety on his face and smiled through the mask of blood. “You idiot. You should see the look on your face.”

  “Don’t worry, this is nothin’.” Cloudhawk wrapped Artemis in his arms and pulled her close. “We’ll go back to the outpost and find Mantis. He’ll fix you right up. You just hold on!”

  Artemis’s pretty face was devastated and covered in blood. She coughed and tried to speak to him through a rigid windpipe. “N-…. No. Don’t waste your effort. I’m not gonna make it.”

  “We killed the demon!” Cloudhawk’s eyes were red and puffy. “Didn’t you say you were gonna lead the outpost with me? I agree. You live, and we’ll be here together to make it our own. We’ll turn it into a real paradise, okay?”

  “You know, I thought about it. The outpost isn’t what you’re lookin’ for. I can’t be selfish and force you to stay here.” Artemis scowled as she forced out the bitter words. “Motherfucker, I think… I think I really fell for you. Such a… such a shame…”

  She lifted a shaking hand and placed it on his cheek. As her strength failed her, her hand dropped, leaving five stark red streaks against his skin. It fell limp to the ground as Artemis serenely shut her eyes, a small smile on her face.

  Cloudhawk stared dumbly at the body cooling in his embrace. His mind was blank, but it felt like something had been taken from deep inside his soul. It was a pain unlike anything he’d ever felt before.

  Artemis was dead, another in the list of people who had given their lives for him.

  From Slyfox to Mad Dog to Artemis, the weight of their sacrifices left hi
m a crushing burden. As he grew and matured during his journey, every step was wrought with pain and helplessness, with nowhere for him to escape to. All he could do was shoulder this suffocating burden and honor them by spending his days striving to get stronger.

  Was this the price of growing up? The price of seeking something better?

  With her hands pressed against the wounds in her stomach, the Queen walked on shaking legs to Cloudhawk and the corpse he held. The look in her eyes was equal parts guilty and discomfited. “Are you… are you alright?”

  Cloudhawk didn’t respond. He lifted Artemis’s body and walked into the trees.

  “Cloudhawk…,” she called after him.

  He acted like he hadn’t heard and instead focused on putting one foot in front of the other as he trudged back towards Greenland Outpost. The Queen tried to follow, but her wounds slowed her down. In the end, she just watched him disappear into the darkness.

  He hates me!

  She felt a pressure in her chest that made it difficult to breathe. She was filled with a harsh and bitter sensation, for she knew that while the demon was the culprit, she was the one who provoked him. Her ignorance and arrogance led to the destruction of Blackflag Outpost. Her folly and obsession was the doom of the Tartarus mercenaries. Her actions in the Greenland Outpost forced Cloudhawk to watch Artemis die before his eyes.

  In the end, the demon was slain.

  Ironically, it was the worthless wastelander, the boy she’d looked down on this whole time, who had killed her enemy. What did she do? She hadn’t harmed a hair on him – she hadn’t done a single thing right since coming to the wastelands!

  The Bloodsoaked Queen sadly learned that every decision she’d made had been the wrong one.

  Ever since fleeing Blackflag Outpost, after suffering the slings and arrows of fate, her pride and self-esteem had been eaten away. All that was left was introspection and regret.

  She stumbled over to where the demon’s body lay, and her eyes swept over the blackened pieces. She found several things, namely a book with a pale yellow metal cover and a roll of parchment made from some animal skin.