God of Hell - Chapter 44 - Behold, A Soul Forged In Fire (Patreon)

A moment slower, a moment slower and Nero would have died, but every single day had inched him just that much faster, every single day of running till his legs collapsed underneath him had drawn out just enough in him to let the fire singe his cheeks instead of char them as he twisted out of its way.

He was barely done stumbling back when his opponent came for him, foot carving through the air as it chased Nero’s face.

A raised arm blocked the attack’s path and Nero felt the limb go numb with the impact. 

Fuck!

Could he hit that hard?

His numb arm was dropping, his enemy was approaching.

Nero took the defensive, slipping out of his blows with a speed that marked him as the faster of the two. 

That, at least, he took solace in.

He reached for his Light and only felt a soft wave of sickness meet him instead.

He’d spent it all on healing.

Well, fuck.

He’d never fought a random thrall before, knew it would happen one day, assumed he’d feel kind of conflicted when the day came. However Nero didn’t even consider holding back, he knew that would mean death against an opponent this powerful.

With resolute eyes, the man splayed his palms in preparation for yet another ball of fire. 

It was then that Nero moved in to attack, grabbing his wrist and forcing it away as a jet of flame burned through the air.

He’s able to summon his magic as a stream?

Nero batted away the thought, and threw an uppercut at the man with everything that he had in him.

It connected, with flesh, not bone, cutting open the man’s skin as he leaned back. The man’s other fist was immediately bathed in fire. It crunched into Nero’s ribs, digging deep and just when he thought the assault was over, a blast of fire erupted from the thrall’s fists , throwing Nero backwards like an arrow.

He hit the ground back-first and rolled into a crouch. Nero scrambled to his feet, stopped midway and clutched his side painfully.

Shit!

He might have broken something.

The Thrall sent a ball of fire at Nero, Ember warned him and he leapt out of the way and landed on fragile ribs.

His enemy chased him and Nero rushed to his feet before he could close. His side screamed as he did.

A flaming fist hounded Nero, and rather than dodge he blocked, knowing he was essentially sacrificing the arm, but certain there was no getting out of this alive without making some major concessions.

The flaming fist connected viciously, first there was pain, sharp and venomous, and then there was nothing as the limb fell uselessly to the side, unresponsive.

Nero was already moving before the impact landed, through gritted teeth, he weathered the agony and threw another uppercut at the man. Perhaps if he could shake his brain, he might be able to win this.

The fist connected, but the Thrall twisted his head up with the blow, lessening much of the impact, not all of it.

They stumbled backwards on shaky feet, Nero moved to pounce but was stopped as the man stunned him with a flash of bright fire.

Nero winced, closed his eyes, then pried them open to feel a fist crack into his jaw and send him to his knees with the viciousness of the impact. 

The world spun, warm blood ran down Nero’s skull and his enemy stood above him, palm splayed out  and fire congealing in its centre. He willed his legs to run, but they didn’t listen.

Something red flashed through the corner of Nero’s eyes and struck man’s palm.

The Thrall hissed. Hot,  panicked eyes glaring at the gash in his hand.

“Sorry friend, but I’m paid to protect this town, that includes our little chosen one over here.” Klaus announced from behind Nero.

Another blast rung out through the air and shot for him, but met dirt instead of flesh as the thrall dodged.

Klaus gave chase and behind him Nero saw Jion and Mifa, the gorilla creature, join the pursuit. The four disappeared into a house.

Nero’s legs just about listened to him and he stumbled after the pair. He heard screams, a scuffle and saw a flash of fire. His panic rose and crescendoed when the Thrall erupted from a wall in a cloud of wooden splinters.

Around his wrist was a panicked boy. Jamie, the one Nero had healed today.

All three members of the Death Rattle emerged after, brandishing weapons and teeth.

“Touch me and I’ll kill the child.” The Thrall declared.

Klaus hesitated, clearly from the look in his eyes, he was the sort of man who would have attacked regardless, but he was acting in the interest of Stradale here. He didn’t pull his eyes away from the pair. “Nero, your call, do you want this guy coming after you again?” He asked.

Phrased like that, he had no doubts about the choice Klaus would have made if it were left up to him.

Nero’s eyes shifted between the pair. Taking out this Soul Forged would be the best thing to do now, but they couldn’t do it without risking the child. The correct answer was simple, yet Nero let himself make the wrong choice. “Let them go.” He told them and Klaus hesitantly lowered his gun. Just the one, a since the other was with Alfie.

The Thrall breathed in relief and hurried for the gates with the child in his hands. The protectors would no doubt open it for him the moment they saw the hostage in his grip.

“Nero, you’re bleeding a lot.” Ember gasped, face crumpled in concern.

“I’m okay, I’m okay…” He told her, took a step forward, slipped and was only caught by a quick Jion.

“Get him to Gunther.” Was the last thing he heard the woman say before his vision went dark and the world faded from existence.

“He’s awake.” Selvas barked, standing above him with narrow eyes, as if inspecting a pet fish she’d found floating upside down in its bowl.

“It seems I am.” He groaned, pulled himself into a sitting position, winced and laid back down on the couch. He recognised his surroundings, he was in Gunther’s office. He remembered the Thrall, the Death Rattle and then… Panic sank into Nero’s heart. “Jamie, how is he?”

“He’s fine, the Thrall let him go outside Stradale.” Selvas reassured him.

That calmed Nero a fair bit. Carefully, he looked around and saw they had company. Gunther for one, and Jion and Klaus of the Death Rattle. They all looked worried, at first he thought it was for him, but as he saw their expression remain unchanged even as he displayed fine motor skills by shifting into a sitting position in his seat, Nero knew there was something deeper at play.

“Dario, that’s his name.” Klaus began, both guns holstered now. “He’s the top Thrall of the Lady Defrid, scary, powerful, Fire Breather.” He said.

“The question then, is why did they come after you, Nero?” Gunther asked, face drawn into a frown.

“Revenge?” Jion suggested. “He did humiliate her by freeing Klaus from the Seal and then proceeded to kill a Warden under her hospitality.”

“Well, yes, but I’d assume she has other things to worry about than settling scores given the rebellion. Unless it’s going worse for the rebels than we thought.” Selvas added.

“No.” Nero shook his head, winced and cursed. “No.” He said again, this time softer. He drew in a breath. “She attacked me because of the rebellion, not in spite of it.” He declared, and watched as all eyes settled on him. “I’m the catalyst, I killed the Chieftain, I freed Klaus and I killed Mercury.” Nero explained. “The rebellion is happening in my name, because of me, because the Light Breather exists and that has given her people hope.”

“So she was hoping killing you would kill the rebellion.” It was Ember who chimed that in.

“We’ll need to tighten security, put more men on watch, maybe recruit more mercenaries if there are any we still can.” Gunther grumbled, face tight with thought. 

“I guess that means less sleep for me then.” Klaus grumbled.

“No.” Nero shook his throbbing head. “We need to attack back.” He said, and felt something burn within him, growing from a candle to a forest fire. “She brought the fight here, she brought the fight to Stradale, put everyone in danger, she doesn’t just get to walk away from that while I hole away behind a shelter of bodies.”

Gunther hesitated, mouth opening to voice thoughts, thoughts that Nero had long since heard and had spent the past two weeks refuting in his head. He cut him off before he could let a word out.

“Stradale is strong enough to stand on its own for now.” Nero insisted. “Dolore isn’t, and we may never get another shot like this anymore.”

“I disagree.” Was the reply, but not from Gunther, it was Selvas who said that instead. “Our priority should be Stradale’s current and future longevity.”

A lesser man would have chafed at being contradicted so brazenly, but Nero, over his time in both the Physical and Damnation, had never met a man as great as the new Chieftain of Stradale. He wouldn’t have done it in the first place if he had. Gunther’s lips drew into a thin line, forehead wrinkled with confliction and then he finally nodded. “Fine.” The man said. “We’ll send a small force to Stradale.”

Klaus scoffed at that. “Well, good luck finding idiots dumb enough to step in the path of a City Lady.”

Gunther’s eyes fell on Klaus.

The red haired man actually burst out laughing in amusement. “You paid us to train your men and we’ve been doing that for the past three weeks, that’s it.”

“So I’ll pay you more and pay you well.” Gunther pressed. “Name your price, half now, half when you come back.”

Klaus’s eyes widened. “Well, fuck, fine.” He said and seemed to surprise himself with his own words. He didn’t surprise Nero. As something of an expert in spineless, mundane evil…There wasn’t nearly as much of it in Klaus as had once occupied himself.

It helped that Klaus knew it wasn't an empty promise, Nero had given Gunther Mercury’s sword, and it had sold for enough to make crystals a distant worry, at least for a while. 

Jion bowed her head a fraction towards Nero. “We’d be proud to serve, Light.”

Selvas’ features were a neutral canvas. She nodded. “It seems a decision has been made then.”

“Sorry Selvas.” Gunther apologized.

“It’s okay.” She reassured him and she made her way out.

Nero felt the guilt sink into him and smothered it. They’d have a talk about that when it was time. 

“Nero.” Gunther’s eyes fell back on him. “Dolore isn’t Stradale, it has a Hell Gate underneath it, and Demons do not let go of those easy, aim for victory but do not be afraid to compromise.”

He nodded and from the corner of his eyes, Ember watched the entire ordeal silently, sitting on Nero’s shoulder, face tight with concentration.

She only spoke when they were outside.

“So, we’re going to fight then.” She whispered. 

Nero nodded. “We are.”

“That’s good.” She said softly then shook her head, clenched tiny fists and nodded with burning conviction. “It’s good, I know it’s good, we’re going to fight.”

“I think it’s good too.” Nero told her. He was wrong to want to stay, he was wrong to try and avoid this fight, because the truth was a fight would come to him whether or not he wanted one.

If anything it was silly that it had taken him this long to accept it.

“I’m going to miss it here.” She told him.

Nero smiled. “I’m going to miss it too, but we’ll be back soon, just like we always have been.” He said. Just like he came back every time he went monster hunting with Selvas, came back even the time he tried to run away and came back when Mercury tried to make Dolore his grave.

It seemed he was tied to this town.

Ember seemed to realise that as well, because her features brightened a shade, both in the figurative sense and the literal.

“I’m going to see Cain.” He told her.

“Are you sure?” She asked, eyes coated with sympathy.

“I don’t really have a choice.” He told her with a wince. He needed the sword if he was going to save Dolore.

And with that, he quickened his hesitant pace.

Cain still lived outside Stradale, the people loved her now, considered her a hero, a legend and something to be aspired towards. All of that hadn’t brought her shed even an inch closer to the settlement.

He had a feeling it was because of that, and not in spite of it, that she still lived where she did.

He knocked on her door and heard her voice behind him. “You’re not welcome here.” She barked and Nero tried not to jump as he whipped around to see the old woman. Save from the missing ear, she looked exactly like she had when they’d first met, there was still that anger in her eyes but where it once seemed aimed at the world at large, this time it seemed to coalesce all on Nero like an ant underneath a magnifying glass.

“I was just-” 

“I don’t care.” She told him. 

“Will you just let me speak?” He asked softly.

His words seemed to light a fire underneath her and her words came out as bubbling hisses of rage. “You lost that right when you abandoned all these people.” She snarled, hand cast outwards towards the flickering lights of Stradale.

“I had a hard choice to make.” Nero explained.

“You made the wrong one.” She told him.

“Well, I fucking love her!” He snapped and then felt himself grow weak. “What, was I supposed to leave her, let Selvas die?”

“Yes.” She told him and her eyes burned into Nero. “Tommy, Tillian, Fred, Aigburth…” She kept on listing them, name after name, after name, dead after dead, an insurmountable obituary. ”Those are people that could still belong to the living had you been there.”

Nero’s fists trembled. “Would you, if you were in my position would you?”

Cain held his eyes for a long moment and then her answer came. “No,” She replied. “But I should, and you should because that’s what it means to be who you are.”

“I didn't choose to be be the fucking Light Breather.” Nero hissed.

“But you chose to save Stradale, you chose to take on that responsibility, and you failed it, you failed us.” Cain told him. “If Mercury had called on a larger force, a stronger one perhaps… That town would be ash because you weren’t there.”

Nero felt tired, tired of arguing, tired of fighting, tired of living like this. For one all-encompassing moment it all just felt too much, a suffocating blanket taut around his throat. And then he remembered he was here in Stradale, safe, for now. He exhaled. “I’m leaving… The  rebellion in Dolore. “He said. “I’m going to aide it.”

Cain didn’t react to his motivation, instead she had just one question. “So you’re here for my sword.”

“I’m more effective with it.” He said.

“I’m not going to give it to you.” Cain told him.“Why the fuck not?” He clenched his teeth.

“Because I don’t trust you and I’m not going to enable a person as powerful as you are, as powerful as you can be to kill.” She told him.

“Okay, why don’t you just fucking kill me then?” He challenged, raised his hand and splayed them outwards. “I’m dangerous, I’m unpredictable, I’m selfish. Why don’t you just do the world a favour and put your fucking sword in me!” He growled.

Cain met his eyes and he met hers, unflinching, challenging. She was the one person in this town who could kill him and lately, during some dark purple nights, he found himself secretely praying she would.

In her gaze Nero saw she shared the same prayers as well.

Cain pulled out her blade with a flicked wrist, the curved thing moved like a flash and Nero only saw it when it stopped a millimetre into his flesh, drawing his blood down its length. “Because…” Cain began. “You and I share something in common.”

“And what’s that?” Nero asked, hands trembling. He could see it in her eyes, she wanted to, she really, really wanted to.

“Weakness.” She told him and then her blade was back in its sheathe.

Wordlessly, the woman turned, and headed into her home.

Nero went straight for his.