Rocks slowly fell from the ridgelines of the Syr’s land as if the earth above was losing patience with what was happening below it.
Wind shuffled between the gaps of the stone formations, carrying the rotting sll of flesh, bones, and burning tal.
Two Serakels moved in loose procession, their snake tails dragging behind them and leaving thin grooves in the gold-dusted ground. Between them, An Lang’s stomach pushed against the fabric of his combat vest as he swayed on his feet like a drunk man.
His war discs shifted at his back with every wobble he made, but he didn’t reach for them as his eyes remained locked on the slabs of dark at the leading Serakel was carrying.
An Lang’s nostrils flared when a thin line of saliva ford at the corner of his parted lips, while the sll drifted to him the mont they stopped moving.
The Serakels stopped before three Syrs who stood there with their seven-fingered hands resting on the handles of burning axes.
One of them clicked its jaw twice, which instantly made the lead Serakel lower the wrapped at in a gesture that needed no language.
An Lang moved a step as he watched the at get transferred, but the Serakels wrapped their tails around his legs and dragged him back.
He looked down at the tail, then back at the at with a disgusted eye and a tightened jaw.
The Syr studied An Lang in an assessing manner when they crouched at him, tilting their horned head for a clear look at the human’s face.
An Lang t the eyes for one second, then dropped his gaze back to the slabs. When the exchange was done, the Syrs closed around An Lang and dragged him, using the at to make him move without being commanded.
They brought him to a dungeon cave that swallowed the warmth of the outside completely with a heat that sat in the lungs and stayed for long hours.
Burning iron lined the doors of the cells, casting moving glows on the wall as if they were breathing.
When the Syrs reached an empty cell, one of them pulled the gate open and hurled the wrapped at inside, which fanned out across the ground in a dark, steaming spread.
An Lang dashed into the cell before the Syrs could release him, dropped to his knees, and began pulling the slabs together into his mouth.
A faint flow snaked through his veins while his eyes reddened more as his teeth pierced through the sweet at.
When the gate slamd shut, Liu Yan lifted her head from the opposite cell while she exhaled sharply through her mouth.
Through the burning bars opposite her cell, she watched the figure who had been sent to replace the man who told her to send his greetings back to the Special Force’s officials.
She shifted her gaze from the combat vest to the way the person’s shoulders sat, and the straps crossing the back at an angle. When she caught the gleaming war discs, she froze.
She rembered the dull gleam of the edge, the way they rested one against the other when the figure stopped moving.
A tearing sound filled the dungeon as An Lang kept on devouring the at like a wild animal.
Liu Yan tried to scream but stopped when she saw two of the Syrs standing right at the corner of her cell, clicking their tongues as they also watched the newcor.
One of them walked toward Liu Yan’s cell, slamd its burning axe on the irons, then snarled without opening its mouth.
The force picked up Liu Yan and threw her against the wall before she could register it coming.
She dropped on her right elbow as she hit the ground, breaking the bones completely, then scread in a pain-filled voice.
When the Syr returned and lood at the front of the iron with the axe raised, Liu Yan swallowed her scream and lay there while a burning sensation rattled through her entire body.
In the opposite cell, An Lang’s head lifted once and watched the lady lying on the ground for a long while. When his mind tried to give him back his mory, the stench of the at drew his attention and made him snarl as he continued devouring it.
On the east side of the Syr’s territory outside the dungeon, the sll of rotten flesh and bones drifted into Leon’s nostrils and woke him.
He jerked upright with wild eyes and fast breathing when he saw himself lying in a pile of human and animal skeletons crumpled in a large woven basket.
He pressed the back of his hand over his nose and peeked his head out of the basket, only to see himself inside a large hut that looked like an extended version of his mansion in Bastion City.
When he climbed out of the basket and stood on the red ground beneath it, he saw shimring blades of burning axes hanging on the wall like stars caged in tal.
He closed his eyes, took in a deep breath, then cracked them open and began searching for a way out.
Just as he neared the large curtain, chills ran down his spine when loud footsteps echoed from outside the hut.
Leon dashed back to the basket and hid at its back, while keeping an eye on the tall shadow that kept stretching toward him.
When he caught sight of a being which had the features of a female human, with horns on its head and bovine legs, Leon pressed his face to the ground and froze, quieting himself from any unexpected movent.
The Syr’s face shifted in a way that was not quite an expression but carried the function of one. It moved toward the basket, fast for its size, and looked inside.
It turned and left faster than it entered, screaming in a sound that didn’t need its mouth to be opened, paddling the curtain sideways.
Leon waited two seconds before moving out from behind the basket.
He climbed the basket, picked up his dagger and Wu Ze’s sword, then jumped and walked toward the curtain.
He tightened his grip on the dagger and pulled the edge of the curtain back with two fingers before looking outside.
The Syr which entered the hut was now fifteen feet away, standing at the front of a group of Syrs, gesturing rapidly at the hut Leon was in.
Leon loosened his grip on the curtain and stepped back. He focused on the curtain for half a second before taking a second glance.
When he noticed the Syr’s were not looking at the hut again, he stepped through it and pressed himself against the hut’s exterior wall, while mimicking the shadows the burning torches threw on the ground.
He moved when the shadows moved and stopped when they thinned.
Between two of the larger structures ahead, under a torch that burned lower than the others, a face appeared in the half-dark beyond the movent of passing Syrs.
When Leon squinted and saw a face similar to Aurelian’s, he scread in his head while a bone-crackling sound echoed at his side.
User Comments
0 comments from readers