I'm back, starting next chapter, I'll be increasing the length by 2,000 words, so enjoy.
You cunt.
"Hahaha! Yes, I am a huge bunny. Go on then! Laugh at my ridiculous form!" Tibbar shouted.
Guts merely shook his head in response.
"This is one of the weirdest things I have ever seen. Are you going to kill him already? Or do you want me to do it?" Guts asked.
Tibbar's nose twitched in response.
"I want to test my throwing arm. A bullion says I throw him right into his throne room!" Tibbar declared.
Guts raised an eyebrow.
"What the hell is a bullion?" He asked the bunny.
The apostle merely looked at him, and then looked back to Gangrel, who was still screaming bloody murder.
"It's nothing. I'm going to throw this wretched coward right through his castle!" Tibbar shouted once more, jumping high in the air.
He reared back his arm, and threw the Mad King at terminal velocity towards the fort. The false apostle crashed through the sand colored stone of his castle, disappearing somewhere within. Guts sighed. It was highly unlikely that Gangrel survived, but knowing his luck, he would get up there and find out that getting rammed through a wall actually heals him or something.
Guts shook his head. That was the least of his troubles now. He brought his blade to bear, and aimed it at the giant rabbit apostle. Tibbar looked down towards the Black Swordsman, and shrunk back down to his human-ish form. Tibbar cracked his neck, and then raised a hand to Guts.
"No. We can't fight right now. We both suffered wounds from third parties. We'll fight later, when we've both recovered from our injuries, that way it can be a fair fight." Tibbar stated.
Guts spat blood onto the dirt.
"Have it your way bunny man. I'll kick your ass next time, count on it." Guts said.
Tibbar grinned, showing off his massive teeth.
"Good! Next time, no one will stop us. We will battle from sun up to sunset until one of us dies! Songs about our battle shall be sung about by bards for millennia to come!" Tibbar shouted. "For some… side entertainment while I wait for you to recover, I have caught wind of a man on a secluded island. Descendant of some… Radiant Hero or whatnot. Apparently his strength is legendary. I will put that to the test once I find and kill him in an honorable duel to the death! After I face the Conqueror of Valm of course. By then, you will have fully recovered for sure. Make sure to train your sword arm for me, for I will return to seek it, this I swear on the bloody crescent."
Guts shook his head again.
"Would you just fuck off already?" He asked.
Tibbar smiled once again.
"Just know that I'll be back Black Swordsman." Tibbar replied, before seemingly vanishing into thin air.
Guts took another breath, and looked over to the base of the wall where Tibbar had landed earlier. Much to Gut's surprise, he saw that the big bunny had left his mace there. As soon as he noticed that however, Tibbar reappeared right where it was at.
"Whoops, almost forgot." He stated as he grabbed the hilt of his mace once more, slinging it over his shoulder.
Just like that, he had disappeared once more. That was when Guts noticed the giant footprints forming in the dirt, heading towards the broken down portcullis. He could turn invisible too? Wonderful. Guts sighed, and clipped his sword at his back, turning his lone eye back towards the hole in the upper most part of the castle where Gangrel had been thrown. He had better make sure that he was dead, Guts wasn't going to just assume the best.
He marched straight over to the small brown wooden doors that lead into a portion of the castle. When he made it inside, he found himself in a narrow hallway with a red rug stretching out far ahead of him; the stone walls had several paintings of red headed men and women with the same crown that Gangrel had been wearing, likely the mad Kings predecessors. Several candles lit the way and were pinned up next to several wooden doors.
Guts pulled out his dagger. Tight spaces like this weren't good for his sword, not only would it be a pain to draw it, but swinging it would be nigh impossible with how cramped it was. He wouldn't be able to build up enough momentum to even cleave through the walls if he wanted too. Who made hallways this narrow? It was as if it was made for a single person to walk through at a time, his shoulders almost scraped against the walls as he pushed forwards, the creepy insane eyes of the previous kings of Plegia staring at him from their paintings.
A couple of Plegian troops entered the hall one at a time from an open door, the two of them had swords drawn, and looked towards the Black Swordsman.
"Intruder! Kill him good!" The closest one shouted.
Guts quickly drew a throwing knife and tossed it right into that soldier's skull, the man in question falling right onto his face, causing the blade to sink even further within his skull as it was hammered further in. Blood pooled around the skull of the body, soaking the stone and appearing almost invisible against the rug.
"Gah! Never mind I'm leaving!" The remaining one shouted, fleeing back within the room he exited out of.
The door was slammed shut, and when Guts ran closer, he heard a metallic click from the lock. He raised his right foot, and smashed the door open, splintered wood flying everywhere. The room he found himself looking into was Spartan, with barely anything in it save for a couple of beds and a round table in the center. The square room was adorned with nothing except for the stone that made up its walls. The soldier that attempted to lock himself in was backing away with his hands raised in defense.
"Oh please no! No!" He shouted, tripping backwards and landing on his rear, continuing to back away.
Guts walked right next to the table, and stuck his daggers blade deep within the wood, sticking it there. Guts sneered, and bared his teeth.
"Where is the Exalt?" He snarled out, clenching his remaining fist.
The young man gulped and took a deep breath.
"She's in the dungeons… where else?" He responded, promptly covering his mouth afterwards. "Sorry I didn't mean to sass I just do that when I'm under a lot of pressure you know like when this massive guy with a knife kills a guard guy you worked with for like a week to guard a meaningless hallway and then he gets killed you just kind of let go and let the body do the talking for you ya see I didn't mean-"
"Shut up!" Guts shouted, cutting the soldier off from his near incoherent rant. "Where are the dungeons?"
The man raised a finger, pointing it outside of the room.
"It's uh… I think it's… oh yeah! It's over on the west side, a lower level! Now please don't kill me just hit me really hard in the face or something but not too hard you know I don't want to mar my pretty face and you know what I'll just do it myself." He said, smashing himself in the face with his fist. "Oh that didn't feel too good… I don't think I'm good at the whole knocking myself out thing you know could you just do it for me actually now that I think about it." He said as Guts drew closer. "You don't have to hit or kill me at all you could just let me stay here and think about life and all that and it'll be good we won't have to be hurting either of us and-"The young soldier was cut off by Gut's knee slamming right into his chin, knocking him unconscious.
The Black Swordsman huffed with annoyance, and turned back to the doorway, proceeding through. He knew that making sure Gangrel being dead was important, but saving Emmeryn from the dungeon took that objectives place as top priority. What was he thinking? He came here to do both, but he should have been thinking of saving the Exalt. Chrom and his army were coming soon, if Guts let Emmeryn die then all of their efforts would have been for nothing.
Following the guards directions, he made headway towards the dungeons, meeting no resistance along the way. Perhaps most of them had been in the courtyard when Gangrel fried it, but if that was the case, why were those two guards in a hall if they didn't really need to defend it? Were they slackers?
It didn't matter
He turned the corner and headed west down a hallway, which had a single iron cast door at the end of it.
Guts reached the end of the corridor, and gripped the looped door handle, pulling it open. Inside was a stone chamber with several iron barred cells on the right side of the room, a man sat asleep in a chair, and another one was leaned up against a wall with his shoulder, looking at the opposite direction. At the end of the chamber was another cast iron door with several steel bolts and an eye slot that was slid closed.
Guts marched swiftly up to the man leaning against the wall, and grabbed him by the hair, eliciting a scream of surprise and pain. He yanked backwards, causing the guard to fall back on his rear. Guts kicked him in the nose with his armored boot, the back of his head smacking against the stone floor. Blood oozed out of his nose (Which was now bent a little further to the left) which he covered with his hand.
He opened his mouth to yell something, but Guts kicked him in the face again, knocking him unconscious (Or dead possibly) and approached the man who was still somehow sleeping at his desk. He kicked the chair out from under him and the guardsman fell to the ground with surprise. Guts grabbed the dazed man by the throat and hoisted him up, pinning him against the nearest wall and choking him.
"Where is the Exalt?" He growled out.
The guard remained wide eyed as he began pointing wildly towards the door at the end of the hallway. Guts smashed his skull into the man's forehead, knocking him unconscious. The guard fell to the floor with a thud, and The Black Swordsman continued towards the door. He gripped the door, and attempted to pull it open, only to find that it was locked. Guts grit his teeth. Nothing could be simple. He went back over to the two guards, and searched their pockets, coming up with a huge ring of numerous keys.
The amount of keys there was equated to the size of his fist, and he internally groaned, marching back over to Emmeryns cell. One by one he tried the keys, letting out a curse for each one that failed to unlock the door.
…
…
…
Gangrel lay broken, blood pooling around his body. This had to be the worst pain that the Mad King had ever felt in his life. He could neither hear, nor see anything. He hated them… The Black Swordsman and that damned true apostle. Tibbar that bunny bastard, he would rue the day he threw Gangrel through his own castle. He attempted to will himself to move, but he merely convulsed, more shattered bones poking through his blood soaked flesh and clothing. The accursed ringing in his ears did not cease, if anything it felt as if it intensified, piercing his senses like a spear.
Was he really going to die like this? He wanted to bring glory to Plegia, not lead it into ruin… him kidnapping the Exalt, taking the Fire Emblem; it was all to bring glory to his nation. Not only that of course, but Walhart the conquerors eye was looking across the sea, to all three nations. If they were not united, then Ferox, Ylisse, and Plegia would fall to him.
If Gangrel had been successful and united the continent, then maybe they could have stood a chance against the Conquerors forces, but now? He couldn't stand, hear, or even see. He was useless. All the power that the Behelit bestowed upon him had failed him horribly. In the end, he just wasted the lives of his soldiers using it. What would become of Plegia? He had no sons, no daughters, no heir to speak of!
Who would seize control? That fool Validar? The harlot Aversa? Those were the only two he could see taking his precious country, driving it further into ruin with their obsession with Grima. When he had all but given up hope, he felt a thick liquid pour into his mouth…
…
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…
After trying every single key except for on final one, Guts finally got the cell open, pulling open the door and stowing the keys in his belt bag. Inside the cell was the curled up form of Emmeryn, her arms suspended above her with gray metal shackles. Her robes had been replaced with brown rags, and her blonde hair was caked with dirt and was sticking about all over the place. He approached her slumped form, and grabbed the shackles, ripping the left one out of the wall then proceeding to the right. Emmeryn groaned, and looked up, her eyes widening by a wide margin.
"It's… you. Did Chrom make it here?" She asked him.
Guts shook his head then took a knee, getting to work on getting the shackles off of her wrists. The metal gave way under his raw strength, and they fell away, clattering to the ground.
"I left them a while back, but they should be on their way. Can you stand?" Guts asked her.
Emmeryn nodded.
"Yes, but may you help me up?" The Exalt asked him.
Guts nodded back, and stood back up. He offered his hand to Emmeryn, and she accepted. Guts pulled gently, bringing her shakily to her feet. She took a deep breath, and Guts let her go. The dull pain in the back of his neck was still ongoing, but he wasn't sure if it was because Gangrel was still alive or if Tibbar was still lurking somewhere.
It was more likely that the Mad King still lived, despite how injured he was. However, when he had entered the room he could have sworn that it had gotten slightly worse. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and his lone eye had not stopped scanning the room. Nothing was going to take him by surprise. He looked and saw a string wrapped around her neck, with a little bauble that was bulging out in the cloth between the top of her breasts. If they took everything else away from her, why did they leave one single necklace?
He felt nauseous looking at it, and turned away, looking towards the exit of the chamber.
"Stay behind me and do exactly as I say." Guts said, marching out of the doorway.
Emmeryn complied, staying directly behind him as they backtracked throughout the whole castle until they eventually found themselves at the door Guts had entered from the courtyard. After checking every single room on the way over to the exit, he would motion for Emmeryn to proceed forward. He would do the same here.
Guts marched out to the middle of the courtyard, his single wary eye scanning every single nook and cranny he could see. No archers in the tower, no soldiers pouring through the shattered palisade, no angry apostles showing up out of nowhere. Everything seemed to check out. He turned back, and gestured for Emmeryn to follow after him. She paused for a moment, pulling the necklace off of her.
Before Guts could make out what it was, she chucked it with what he could only assume was rage down the hallway, before slamming the door behind her.
"Never…" She muttered, marching over to the Black Swordsman.
"What was that?" Guts asked her.
Emmeryn took a deep breath, her brow already covered in sweat from the sun.
"A man in a red cloak gave me a green egg shaped necklace with facial features on it. He said I would use it to sacrifice everyone I cared for in order to survive. To think that I had that disgusting thing around my neck for all that time sickens me… I had almost forgotten it was there after I first saw you Guts. Thank you." Emmeryn said.
A Behelit!?
"They always come back." Guts said his head pounding. He let out a grunt of pain. "The Behelit will find its way back into your hands somehow, they always do. It'll show up during the worst point of your life, when your will is at its weakest… best to try and break it!"
Guts marched towards where she had thrown the necklace, re-entering the hallway. He scanned the entire entrance, but found no sign of the cursed object.
"Fuck!" He shouted, slamming his metal fist into the nearest wall, a crack forming.
"What is it?" Emmeryn asked voice full of concern.
"It's gone! Damn it all! You have to promise me now, that if that damned thing ever finds its way back into your hands, you'll refuse its offer, and you'll throw it just as you did now. Promise me." Guts said. "Or Gangrel and his army won't be the ones to kill you. That thing will turn you into a monster; it'll break you down mentally, and try to raise you up as one of the apostles."
Guts knew what he just implied. If Emmeryn used the power the Behelit offered, then he would kill her, just like any of the others. His headache worsened, and the image of a naked girl with moth like eyes and wings appeared in his mind.
He shook his head.
Emmeryn looked down to the ground.
"You have no need to fear. I would never use its power. No matter the situation I promise you Guts, I won't ever use it. Even if Ylisstol were to crumble and my siblings were to fall, I still wouldn't use that cursed thing." She told him.
Guts eased up, and rolled his neck. If there was one thing that Emmeryn was good at, it was sounding sincere.
"I'll hold you too it. Let's get you home." Guts said.
He wasn't going to take the risk of finishing Gangrel off and leaving Emmeryn defenseless. He would get her back to Chrom and the others, and then return to make sure the job was done.
After that, he would have to hold up his promise to Virion.
Welp, I guess it's time to update "Of Different Worlds" now...