"Deep breath - "
Kuro inhaled with the command.
"Release."
With a lethal thwip, the bowstring launched the arrow through the air with so much force it embedded itself into the rough bark of Kuro's target well past the arrowhead.
"Good," Wolf praised, moving past him to wrench the arrow out of the tree, and Kuro lowered his bow and pushed his hair out of his eyes. "You are catching on quickly."
"There's less to think about with a bow than a sword," Kuro replied modestly, though he still preened at the compliment. "I feel like it does most of the work."
At the very least, the bow was powerful enough that it compensated for Kuro's lacking depth perception; it took a great distance before gravity had the chance to impact arrows, and Kuro still had an acceptable enough sense of distance to adjust his aim from there. It came more naturally to him than the blade, and if Wolf was to be honest he far preferred this. The bow would keep him out of the fighting but still helping, while Wolf was the one getting his hands dirty.
The woods they had found were full of conifers. Birds settled in the branches, picking idly at the unfamiliar berries among them, and when Wolf paused practice to climb one and survey their surroundings he could see their destination in the distance.
The sea - the lake? It was massive, but land-locked - was black as night, and the grassland around it just as dark and dead. He could see very little of the area beyond the trees, but his eyes followed the line of death as poison bled through the countryside and killed all it came in contact with. The path they followed to the Western Sea was obscured by the woods - something that kept Wolf alert as he rejoined Kuro and Húli.
"We do not know if the path ahead is clear," he said as he dropped to the ground, and found the pine needles muffled the sound of his fall. Something to keep in mind. "Even if it is, we do not know anything about the foe ahead of us, unless . . . "
The dragon around Kuro's shoulders opened his eyes. Undoubtedly conscious of the several sets of eyes on him, Qiūjì studied each of them in turn before turning his eyes toward the lake. It was not visible from here, but Wolf had no doubt he knew its exact location.
It is a disgusting creature, he said at last. Were I at full power, I could eliminate it with ease. As is . . .
"Wonderful," Húli remarked dryly. "So we don't even know if we can beat this thing?"
"We have to try," Kuro said, shooting Húli a reprimanding look. "I mean, two immortals and a demon have to put up some kind of fight, right?"
As though Kuro or Húli posed any real threat to a beast that sounded like it was of Qiūjì's caliber. No, Wolf would have to handle this alone, as everything else - it would be enough work for the others to keep themselves safe, let alone help.
It would be possible to kill Xiangliu with the Mortal Blade, but you must not underestimate him.
"Xiangliu?" Kuro echoed, and Wolf could see more than hear the sigh, the dragon's flank heaving and settling tiredly.
An old menace, Qiūjì went on in lieu of reply. A many-headed snake. He used to have a master, but he has been left unchecked for too long. You must be careful - every centimeter of him is poison and evil, and the venoms in his fangs would kill a mortal in an instant.
Wonderful. Wolf had faced down lethal beasts before, however, and Qiūjì seemed to think this was within his abilities - though the fact that he did not give the odds was of more than a little concern. How much could he count on the dragon's blessing to help him? Was it worth it to allow Kuro to assist, or should he play it safe and keep him out of harm's way?
"Whatever the case," he said, "we should get moving."
"Food first," Húli piped up in complaint. "We haven't eaten since yesterday morning."
"We're kind of low on food," Kuro remarked with a frown. "The bread is stale and I don't know if the fruit is trustworthy."
Wolf brought a hand to his brow, a weary sigh leaving his lips. "All right," he said, reluctantly pushing down an insistent the sooner we get this over with, the better. "Then I will teach you to hunt."
Kuro's expression went a million different directions at once - excitement, then discomfort, and finally apprehension. Regardless, he shouldered his bow and followed Wolf deeper into the woods.
Though Kuro cringed at the thought of killing an animal for food, he was exceptionally good at it. Wolf was almost envious of how quickly he picked up skills, and had to remind himself it was due to his youth that Kuro was so quick to learn. After a quick meal utilizing the last of their water and meat from the rabbit Kuro had reluctantly dressed under Wolf's instruction, they set off once more down the forest path.
It was important for Kuro to learn these things, even if they made him uncomfortable. He was growing up, and Wolf was getting older - the shinobi would not be there to care for him forever.
Wolf paused only momentarily at the thought. It was as though he did not expect to survive this encounter, he realized - perhaps he truly did not think he would. Was it so far-fetched to believe he could do this? But he had fallen to mere men on this journey, to a silly sickness that had never ailed him before, and was now plagued by a demon that tried to take over his body at every opportunity -
A warm hand wrapped around his, a familiarly anxious gesture, and by pure reflex Wolf squeezed it gently. Húli made a demanding noise, and Wolf automatically held out his prosthetic to catch her as she leapt onto him to be carried.
He had sought this ending to prevent sacrifice. He would live - they would all live.
The sounds of the forest grew quieter as they continued on, then dissolved into silence. There was naught but the whistle of wind among the branches, and then, all at once, a foul stench washed over them. Wolf fought off the momentary dizziness, but Kuro wavered on his feet, and Húli pushed her face into Wolf's shitagi to fend the smell off.
"How welcoming," Kuro managed past the sleeve of his yukata.
The smell of death. We're close.
As they continued on, they passed trees in progressive stages of decay, each one growing more withered until they were all blackened and barren. To see a coniferous tree without its needles seemed so unbelievably wrong, and this sense of wrongness continued as the trees started to thin out and the horizon dipped, revealing the path went sharply downhill. They could see nothing beyond the drop.
The Western Sea grew visible as they approached, black and still, and then the distant path winding over it, and the massive torii they would pass through - and then, one by one, distant figures were revealed to them. The sun bounced off gleaming red armor, and they stood shoulder-to-shoulder before the gate. Among them Wolf could see a few who bore armor more ornate - generals, no doubt.
So this was where the Emperor's men had been - he had hoped to cut them off before they could complete their mission.
At this distance, with no more tree cover and all the soldiers' attention pointed toward the woods, there was no hope of sneaking past them. Indeed, it was clear that they had been noticed; one of the generals pointed a polearm in their direction, and as one, the soldiers readied weapons.
"They don't look like they're trying to take us peacefully this time," Kuro whispered nervously, squeezing his hand.
"I have killed more than enough of their men," Wolf grimly pointed out. And they do not know our immortality has limits, he added silently to himself. If they suffered injuries in their capture, what did the Emperor's forces care? They were meant to be above mortal harm, after all.
Such rumors made things troublesome.
With a simple gesture of his prosthetic arm, Wolf uncovered the pistol mechanism and took aim, Húli redirecting to cling to his shoulder. Aurelio had told him such a small barrel made for poor accuracy, but looking down at the sea of men below - certainly hundreds of them waiting to attack - it would be rather difficult to miss.
The thunderous crack rent the air and echoed across the open, dead fields, and the soldiers below recoiled in shock. While they gathered themselves, Wolf pulled Kuro back in retreat, and they hurried to the cover of trees. It would take the army time to scramble up the steep slope and find them, and Wolf was counting on that to create distance.
"Húli!" he shouted, and she understood in a heartbeat. He heard her inhale, and then felt heat at his back as she expelled flames from her lungs. A brief glance behind them revealed green fire consuming the dead grass, already reaching double his height as it crawled after them toward the treeline.
Kuro kept pace with him, no longer the small child that could not keep up, and when Wolf sent out his grappling hook to yank them into the treetops Kuro landed with surprising grace on a wide branch. He still looked remarkably shaken, but he pulled the bow from his back without any prompting and strung it quickly.
"What's the plan?" he asked, and though Wolf could see a tremble in his hands his expression was determined.
"There are too many to handle for the two of us. Húli's flames will take a few out, but - "
"I can't produce much," Húli said for him, "and dead grass burns out too quickly. I don't suppose you have any help for us, Qiūjì?"
Nothing that can be done quickly enough, the dragon confirmed with a shake of his head.
"What about the whistle?" Kuro asked suddenly.
Wolf had forgotten all about it, but he dug quickly through their pack in search of the small satchel Joro had gifted them so long ago. For emergencies. He could not read the inscription on the whistle himself, but he recalled what Kuro had told him so long ago.
"Will she hear it?"
"There is only one way to find out."
Wolf brought it to his lips and blew - and no sound came. Or so he thought - Kuro cringed and put his hands over his ears, and Húli recoiled, a small whine accompanying the gesture as her ears flattened against her head. Had they heard something he had not? Qiūjì seemed similarly unaffected, like Wolf, but then what noise could cause a god such trouble?
They waited for a few moments with bated breath, but there was no time to wait longer. It was absurd, of course, to expect Joro to notice it from such a distance, even if she could hear whatever noise it made. Thinking quick, Wolf prepared his flame vent - if nothing else, he could maximize the damage Húli was causing without making her work any harder. His axe would be a good addition for any soldier with a shield, and perhaps Sabimaru could do some real damage -
"Stay," he told Kuro, making his voice as stern as possible. "You will be safest here, and more useful at a distance."
"What are you going to do?!" Kuro's eye widened, and he grabbed for Wolf's sleeve like it would stop him. "You can't take them all alone!"
"I have no choice," Wolf retorted, "and we have no time to wait for help - "
And then the tree began to shake.
Kuro yelped and, thinking fast, Wolf fastened his grappling hook into the trunk and wrapped an arm around Kuro to keep them anchored. Quickly he realized that every tree was swaying - that the very ground was trembling, as though something beneath it was rampaging. In the distance, the fire began to split and travel its own way, and past it Wolf could see soldiers attempting to put it out and push past the line.
And then the dirt began to crack open, and from the fissure spiders began to pour out.
They were black as night, absolutely massive, and difficult to see among the deadened foliage, but something that was not hard to locate was when a pale, clawed hand reached out of the earth. Another followed it as the crack widened, and as the soldiers began to break through the wall of fire, a head sprouted from the ground. Inky black locks spilled over nearly white shoulders, followed by a bare torso, and shouts of alarm sounded as the spiders found prey in the Emperor's men.
"Joro!" Relief filtered through Kuro's voice, and when the spider demon managed to fully hoist her body from the ground, she raised her head to them.
"It's been a while, Western King," she greeted, then to Wolf, "and you, shinobi. You smell different. I see you're both still wearing my clothes - and what is that little pet you've picked up?"
"I don't like her," Húli instantly spat.
"We can catch up later," Wolf interrupted, joining Joro on the ground. "There are vermin to take care of."
Joro's mouth split into an unnaturally wide, wicked grin. "Good," she hissed, and her face contorted further, until it became that of the demon she was meant to be - fangs so large they could not fit in her mouth, extra eyes, and all. "I have a bone or two to pick with them."
The Emperor's men had always been a thorn in Aurelio's side. The spider undoubtedly held them in the same contempt.
With a nod of understanding, they leapt into the fray together.
Joro's children were doing their job - the frontline soldiers they made a beeline for panicked blindly, making for easy targets. Between Kusabimaru and a set of wicked claws and acidic venom, a dozen or so soldiers fell to their deaths before any resistance was put up.
But it had to come eventually. A deflection of one blow, a counter that sliced through some fool's gullet. An opportunistic soldier taking advantage of the opening, and Joro's venom splashing back on Wolf's haori as she melted the assailant's face. The squeals of spiders that found themselves squashed underfoot. The scream of metal as Wolf blocked and reciprocated blow after blow and the army began shaking off the spiders and advancing on their target.
And then the covering fire came.
While the emperor's men had little use for their arrows or even the opportunity to use them in closed quarters, Kuro was in an positively opportune spot to rain down hell. None of the soldiers right next to Joro or Wolf, no, but two or three men away; they dropped like flies, most arrows finding their marks in throats or chests. Even the ones that bounced harmlessly off armor offered a distraction and caused panic.
But Kuro only had so many arrows - they could not count on him. Wolf shoved his blade through a soldier's gut and raised his prosthetic to glance a blow off his axe, and tried to take stock of the force they fought. Corpses were strewn at their feet, making for difficult obstacles to fight around, but more and more soldiers filtered through the trees even as the spiders crawled over them and wreaked as much havoc as they could. More numbers than power, Wolf thought -
- and then, in the corner of his vision, he watched a man covered with bites raise his dao and slash straight through the back of an ally.
As though that were the catalyst, a chorus of alarmed shouting, then downright panic rippled through the ranks as the poisoned soldiers were sent into an absolute frenzy. They turned on their fellow men, striking anything that moved, and Joro yanked Wolf back from the fray as she retreated somewhat to watch the chaos. They took the moment to catch their breath as former adversaries became victims, and satisfaction radiated from Joro like a tangible force.
The reprieve was not long, but the forces that came for them now trickled through more manageably, and their shaken confidence from the crippling of their forces made them simple to defeat. The metallic smell of sweat and armor had rapidly given way to the coppery tang of blood, and as a severed jugular sprayed even more onto Wolf's haori he wondered if there was any hope of it all washing out.
The men escaping from the chaos, however, were thinking smarter; despite Wolf's efforts to kill them as they came and Joro's uncanny ability to impale any who tried to flank her on powerful forelegs, they found themselves surrounded. Their brief rest was not enough to prepare him to fend off many attackers at once. As he cleaved through one man's skull with his axe, he fumbled a deflect with his katana, and the offending blade screeched down the length of Kusabimaru to sink into his thigh.
With agony came anger, and for an instant, his vision was of nothing but flames - but then an arrow planted itself through the soldier's throat, and simultaneously, Joro gave an outraged, unnatural screech. The distraction was enough to shake him free of the claws at his mind, and he turned to find a spear had plunged deep into the spider demon's abdomen.
Concern was smothered by wariness when it became clear that Joro was more angry than harmed - and far more furious than Wolf had been.
As he fought to stay upright and stumble back from the next two soldiers advancing on him, short dao still deep in his flesh, Joro's body twisted at a horribly unnatural angle. A clawed hand wrapped around the handle of the spear and, with a sickening squelch and crack, wrenched it from the carapace.
They had made a mistake - they had given her a weapon.
And Joro was mighty with it. Wolf was strong, but Joro was a force of nature, the sweeping blows she made with the polearm tossing men aside like they were mere toys even as bones audibly cracked. Another was impaled, and she turned and skewered the two advancing on Wolf before they could threaten him further. Another man was beaten down by his own dead allies, and . . .
And there wasn't much left, Wolf realized, backing against a tree before his leg gave up on him altogether. More soldiers had been poisoned than he thought; so few were left standing - two dozen? was it really so few? - and as Joro advanced on them, several scattered like the rats they were. Was that it, then? Not only had several of them killed their own, but even more ran?
Well. That was hardly a surprise. Wolf would not stick around in a war, either, if the men meant to back him up were suddenly trying to kill him.
Joro had it handled, slaughtering the survivors foolish enough to try her, so Wolf scanned the treetops, trying to remember which he left Kuro in. His head was growing foggy and his sense of direction skewed - where was it? Was he even looking in the right direction? It was not as though there were leaves to hide within, so why was it so hard to locate his charge?
Come to think of it - it would not have been hard for the soldiers to find the source of the arrows. Had harm come to him? Had he been hit, maybe fallen? Wolf struggled to rise to his feet again, but his leg was not having it.
And then one of the trees began to shimmer, as though the air itself was coming undone, and as the glamour dissipated Wolf could see Kuro and Húli tucked safely on a branch, exactly where Wolf had left them. Of course - the fox's illusions. She had kept them hidden so Kuro could help without being seen. Wolf should have thought of that plan himself.
Kuro was slow to maneuver his way down the tree, dropping from branch to branch and clinging to the trunk as he went, but eventually he slithered ungracefully to the forest floor without any help and caught Húli as she bounded after him. He looked rather green, Wolf noted past the dizziness, and Kuro pressed the back of his hand to his mouth as he picked his way across the battlefield.
Kuro had never killed before, Wolf realized, and he let himself slide to the ground as the others approached. No wonder he looked so sick. He would rub Kuro's back if he could stand, but as it were, the blood loss was quickly making his leg quite numb.
"I'm proud of you," tumbled from his lips before he even knew what he was saying, and Kuro paused, a myriad of emotions flickering over his face so quickly Wolf couldn't pinpoint any. Húli shook her head and sighed.
"For crying out loud, Wolf . . . "
"Okay," Kuro finally replied, ignoring her, and he knelt down by Wolf's side. "Um . . . okay. Thank you. But let's figure this out now, all right?"
A familiar tone - he was trying very hard to keep calm. Wolf squeezed his eyes shut, trying hard to clear his head, and nodded. He was losing more blood than he initially expected. Carefully, so as to not jostle his leg further, he sat up and shrugged off his haori. It was worse for wear, covered in blood that was not his own, but he found a dry spot of it and prepared to exert pressure.
"Let me," came Joro's voice.
Kuro took charge of the cloth, and the spider demon wrapped her fingers around the short dao. She counted off, something Wolf hardly registered, before the blade was being expertly pulled from his flesh. The slide of metal through muscle and skin burned like hellfire, and as the fingers of his prosthetic curled into the dirt he muffled the pathetic groan that was torn from his throat by biting down on his arm guard.
"Just barely missed the artery," Joro said past the fog. "Fox - I need fire. Carefully."
Just 'fox,' huh? Húli was bound to hate -
"Fuck!"
A string of expletives left Wolf's mouth against his will as a very tangible burn seared through his flesh, nothing like the fire that sometimes burned within. He was very alert, now, nearly jumping out of his skin at the sheer agony of it, but it seemed Joro had expected this - she was seated quite firmly on his shin, preventing his movement or escape. He craned his head to see past the orange blur that was Húli, but then Kuro was there, taking up most of his view.
"Language," he scolded half-heartedly, grabbing onto the shinobi's hand, and Wolf squeezed it as hard as he could to hold in any further outbursts.
It wasn't entirely successful, but he had managed to calm somewhat by the time it came to stitching the wound shut, and Húli nosed at their clasped hands in silent apology. Something like a cough shook her little frame as she settled in his lap.
Wolf's grip loosened once it came time to tie off the string, and when Joro backed off, the hole in her abdomen became visible; it wept with a sickly, green-yellow ooze, much like the remains of many children splattered across the battlefield.
"What about you?" Kuro asked, and she shook her head, approaching the nearest of her surviving children. They surrounded the group somewhat haphazardly - those that were not feeding, at least.
"Thread won't heal this," she replied simply, as though the wound did not bother her in the slightest. "It will mend in time. My children, on the other hand . . . "
"I'm sorry."
"Apologies won't bring them back," Joro snapped, then sighed, reigning in the volatile response. "I chose to bring them here. This battlefield will be a fine place to raise more - assuming your dragon has no objections."
"He is in no place to refuse," Wolf pointed out, and Joro cocked her head at him as he started to move. His head was clearer, now, after the shock of the pain, and both the tree he leaned against and Kuro's hand served as support as he hoisted himself up.
The spider demon seemed rather surprised at the declaration, and beside him, Kuro nodded agreement. "I say you earned your right to settle here. We owe you that much, at least, and it'd be good to know you're close."
You imply I have any intention of denying her this, Qiūjì piped up, sounding mildly irate, but Kuro only shot him a sheepish smile in apology.
Now standing fully, Wolf took a tentative step forward as Kuro anxiously tried to support him - he was still dizzy and his leg ached fiercely, but it was nothing he couldn't handle. They had no time to rest. Even if they could afford a small break, there were no resources for them to live on while Wolf recovered; corpses were not a meal fit for humans, after all.
"I presume you're going to go take care of that."
"It's all we have left to do."
Joro frowned, glancing in the direction of the lake with apprehension scrawled all over her face. She reached out and placed a hand on each of their shoulders, and every one of her eight eyes was stern and serious.
"Whatever happens out there," she said, "You had better come out of it alive. Both of you. Don't let his death be for nothing."
Aurelio had not been the only one. So many had died to get them here - Wolf would not let any of their sacrifices go to waste.
"It will not be in vain," he promised and, nodding reluctantly, Joro released them. Before they could leave, however, Kuro reached for Húli and held her out to the spider.
"Take care of her while we're gone, please?"
"What?" Húli immediately began to struggle in his hands, but didn't get very far before another cough wracked her frame. "No way! I'm coming with you!"
"No, you're not," Kuro sternly told her. "We're very grateful for all your help, but you overworked yourself with all that magic! You need to rest."
Before Húli could protest further, she coughed again, and this time Wolf could see a plume of black smoke escape between her fangs. She sent pleading eyes Wolf's way, green shimmering through the eye sockets of the skull she adorned, but he shook his head firmly. Kuro was right - she needed to sit this one out.
"We will return," he reassured her, reaching out to scratch under her chin, and she sagged in Kuro's hands. The fight left her body, and Húli allowed herself to be handed over to Joro, who was surprisingly gentle as she cradled the little fox in her arms.
"Go, then."
"Thank you for all your help," Kuro said, bowing deeply, and Wolf copied the motion in a heartbeat. "We'll . . . see you later."
Wolf's hand still in his, they finally turned away, and set their sights past the trees to the ugly black sea beyond.