Page 42

Dracoth

Venting

T his ship is vast—like all Scythian Battlebarges—built to carry an entire warband into the heart of deadly combat.

My females have been exploring its depths ever since I permitted their release.

Would the other humans have left Sandra behind, lost in their curiosity?

The panic in her eyes evaporates such fleeting hopes.

“I’ve checked their quarters and the showers; there’s no sign of them anywhere!” Sandra pleads, clutching onto me. “Please, Dracoth, they could be in danger.”

Her words barely reach me; my molten heart pumps Rush through my veins like a raging torrent. I’m already charging down the corridors like rolling magma.

“Wait for me!” Sandra’s voice fades behind me, but I do not stop. Each second is critical, and she would only slow me down with her human inferiority.

A dark thought slithers into my mind, twisting my lips with the rankest hatred.

If those junkers have taken my females..

. by Arawnoth, I will strip the skin from their flesh and leave them to bake in the molten rivers of Scarn.

But the thought rings hollow—the terror in their eyes was no act.

They wouldn’t defy me; they’d sooner open their own veins than face my wrath.

I dash through the corridors like a flaming comet, my muscles driving me forward in an unstoppable rage. My surroundings blur as I inhale great lungfuls of air, each breath feeding the crimson Rush blazing from my eyes. I don my warvisor, its sacred blessings endowing me with enhanced awareness.

Lifeforms roam the ship, each species identified by their unique biological makeup. Casting my head to the left, I’m aware of Balsar and his two Argorian companions. I’ve already overtaken them as they hasten with elated heart rates down an adjacent corridor. More importantly, they travel alone.

Where are my females? The docking bays? Arawnoth, let it not be so!

Then I see them—three figures glowing in faint oranges and reds inside a rear docking bay, confirming my worst fears, hastening my desperate assault down the corridor.

Their hearts pump with frantic beats, their adrenaline spiking in the throes of some fresh human madness.

Fury coils within me as two of them scramble aboard a docked light ship.

They seek to escape!

How are they accessing secure areas? My thoughts race, my heart pounding with urgency. Using the warvisor’s communication, I reach out to the young warriors. “Seal the exterior docking bay doors, hold fire.”

None of them are even half as close as I am, but I’m still too far, sprinting from the wrong end of this endless ship, my Rush enhancing my haste.

My eyes blaze red, almost blinding me with their searing intensity. I thunder forward, faster than ever before, the very ground trembling beneath my feet. I will myself to hasten, imploring Arawnoth to grant me the strength and speed I need to end this madness.

One of the females breaks away from the hovering ship, moving to leave the docking bay—a small relief, but it does nothing to ease the chaos unfolding before me.

I cycle through my warvisor’s vision spectrums, selecting one that gives me insight into the small fighter ship.

Its engines are engaged, sputtering and groaning as it sways erratically, grinding against the docking bay walls.

There’s a chance! Their lack of knowledge works in my favor, and the docking bay doors are slowly closing. Each agonizing second stretches into an eternity. I’m closer now, very close, only a few corridors away.

The fighter lurches back and forth, inching ever closer to the docking bay door and the vast void beyond. What madness is this? Even if they escape, they’ll be lost in space ! But there’s no time for reason and questions—logic does not belong in the realm of human female chaos.

Princesa comes into view, her face a mask of fear and disbelief. “I—I tried to stop them! I swear!” she cries, her voice frantic. Her words are meaningless to me—only action matters. I slam into the docking bay door with a force that makes the reinforced arcweave shudder and groan.

Princesa’s eyes are wide, darting wildly between me and the viewport, caught between terror and a maddening admiration. “Oh god... they’re almost through! They’re gonna make it!” she gasps, her voice tinged with awe.

Her na?ve excitement at this catastrophe fuels my fury. She sees this foolishness as some daring escape, not the suicidal idiocy it is. There’s no time to shatter her delusions—I have to stop this. Now.

“Keth, override safety protocol, rear docking bay, my location—now!” I command through my warvisor.

I claw at the massive door, trying to force it open, but it resists, groaning in protest under my strength.

My breath comes in ragged gulps as I glance through the viewport.

The light ship wobbles unsteadily, but is pushing through the atmospheric forcefield, triggering the exterior hatch to halt mid-closure due to proximity detection.

“They’re safe!” Princesa exclaims with delighted naivety.

“No,” I reply, my voice as cold as the void waiting for them. “Their docking hatch isn’t fully sealed. They’ll be vented into space.”

“What? But they can’t—no... no fucking way!” Princesa gasps, her face draining of color as she covers her mouth in horror.

“Keth! Open this door!” I send the frantic command through the warvisor again, returning to the seal of the docking bay door.

My blood seethes with molten Rush, burning my insides with its terrible power.

Greedily I draw upon it, forcing it to infuse my muscles with scorching strength, none but I possess.

I slam my arc claws into the door’s seam, carving through the metal in a surge of blue, sizzling molten slag. The heat rises around me, filling the corridor in sizzling plumes of vapor. It should scald my eyes and blister my crimson flesh, but I am the fire—there is no pain.

The thick, reinforced door resists stubbornly, as chunks of metal slough off in heavy, black-blue sludge. Each torturous second is a claw to the heart—the two females inch closer to their doom.

This is taking too long!

Deactivating my arc claws, I jam my fingers into the blistering rents, the cooling plasma cooking my flesh.

The heat feels almost pleasant—a mere cinder compared to the fury pouring molten Rush through my veins.

I strain against the door, teeth clenched, a bellow of rage escaping my lips as I project my will into the metal.

The seal widens inch by agonizing inch, submitting to my power, the twisted metal groaning like a dying beast.

My muscles tremble with fury, grappling against the immense weight—the door fights to close, to crush me.

But I am the War Chieftain. I am the one who destroys.

Sweat pools beneath me, mixing with the molten sludge, my eyes spewing crimson plumes of fury.

The very air seethes, sizzling, under the force of my titanic battle.

With a final, defiant roar, I wrench the door wide enough to leap through. It slams shut behind me with a violent snap, like the jaws of a monstrous brutonous, almost claiming my foot as payment.

I see it—the ship, hovering on the brink of the atmospheric barrier, its backend still within the shimmering field. My heart pounds as desperation drives me charging forward.

If I can leap through their unsealed hatch and reach the controls, there’s a chance!

The thought urges me as I thunder toward the lurching vessel, the icy void of space looming just beyond. One misstep, one error, and I’ll be sucked into the yawning abyss, a molten soul lost to the void.

The fighter’s pulsar propulsion distorts the air, pushing against me, the blue shimmer of the atmospheric shield within reach. My claws strain, stretching for the vessel, penetrating the barrier. A wave of icy pain burns through my frozen claws as they scrape uselessly against the ship’s hull.

No! I’m too late!

I stand at the threshold, staring into the beautiful, terrible expanse of space, watching the horror unfold. The unsealed docking hatch is ripped open, its contents vented into the merciless void—a celestial monstrosity devouring its prey.

The wait is short—Kazumi, the female with hair like the void, is flung violently from the ship, consumed by infinite darkness. I exhale sharply through clenched teeth, forcing myself to watch, refusing to avert my gaze.

This is my fault, my burden—my weakness.

It happens so quick. The diminutive female flails frantically, grasping for something—anything—but there is nothing in this merciless darkness, only her death. My stomach churns at this sickening sight. Her mouth opens in a silent scream, the air violently expelled from her lungs.

Her body begins to swell, bloodshot eyes locking with mine for an instant.

The gruesome sight is one I refuse to balk from—I owe her that much.

I stand firm, bearing witness to her final moments, offering a flicker of comfort, a flame in the dark to guide her toward Arawnoth’s warmth.

Tears stream from her eyes, but the heartless void claims even that, freezing the drops in an instant.

Rapid convulsions seize Kazumi’s body, her limbs twitching and spasming in a grotesque mockery of life.

I know the cause—my logical mind understands—but still, it feels like claws twisting in my guts to see her suffer like this.

She was under my care. I took her from her home, from her safety, and now she dies before my eyes.

All I can do is watch. The helplessness disgusts me.

Then, with mercy from Arawnoth, Kazumi goes still, drifting eerily in the void of space. Her eyes are glazed, staring off as if seeing something beyond our reality. A thin layer of frost coats her swollen face, a crystal shroud.

May the ancestors guide you, Kazumi.