Author's Note: I really have to thank all of you folks out there who have read my story. I would like you to say thank you to all you folks who reviewed and gave me your support and opinions - as well as those of you who added me or my story to your listings. I'm really grateful to all of you, and I really mean that. Allow me to provide to you, the reader, a little message that my favorite author is fond of saying often.
"Never underestimate the power of your encouragement." Good ol' Matthew Reilly. He's gone from humble beginnings to being a highly successful and well recognized writer. In fact, his style of writing has had a real influence on me - there's action and lots of it. For those of you folks out there who want to read a good story, I highly recommend him. Again, it's Matthew Reilly - he's an Australian novelist.
As for me, well, lets just say that this story has been getting much more publicity than my other one. Your words and opinions have really made me a happier man. In fact, I encourage you, the reader, to give a word of thanks to every author that you pay attention to - whether on this site, or your own favorite professional novelists. Trust me, most, if not all, would be more than willing to recieve such praise. After all, it is the author's job to provide the audience with an enjoyable experience.
And so, with that being said, I present to you, Chapter 3. So sit back, relax, select your favorite music, and enjoy the show.
War and Ruin charged. And they did not stop - not even when the welcoming party arrived. Sure, it was rude to not properly greet them on foot - and in doing so, give the demons an actual chance to even hurt him - but War did not care.
He had only one goal - ascertain the identities of these two warriors who were fighting the demons. From there, well, he would just have to wait and see.
As for the so-called "welcoming party," he simply had Ruin blast right through them - trampling some of the demons under Ruin's thunderous hooves. The ones that managed to dodge to the side of Ruin fared no better in their efforts. They were either cut down by Chaoseater or ignored entirely as the horse and rider rocketed onward. The latter of the two, War noticed, only seemed to further enrage the demons, who shouted hate-filled curses as War increased the distance between them.
He was almost there now - the outer edges of the demonic mass was practically in firing range of Mercy.
A Phantom Guard came at him from the right, roaring at him like a blood-crazed animal. War just simply held out Chaoseater to the side. The blade slammed into the demon, cleaving it in two from the torso down. War did not even swing the blade; it was almost laughably easy. It was as if the demon's body parted itself to give passage to the blade, as if Chaoseater was some all powerful deity that was to be worshiped.
And with that enemy slain, War jumped off Ruin high into the air. Now riderless, the large horse disappeared into the ground with a storm of fire and brimstone. Now above the battle, he could see who these two warriors were. He manifested Shadowflight so that he could get several more seconds of air time so as to better see who these two were.
War glanced off towards the hill where the other fighter was just in time to see her snipe one demon that had separated itself from the pack. Blood erupted from the demon's head - a clean shot. But more importantly, War could now see who this sharpshooter was.
The sniper had a distinctly feminine figure. She wielded a high powered, scoped rifle, as well as a sidearm of some sort in her thigh holster. Her hair was a snow white, much like an angel's. But what completely contradicted the theory of her being an angel was that she had no wings. None. Not even the disfigured lumps of a fallen angel. And then she looked up from her scope -
- and looked him directly in the eyes. War could tell that she knew who he was, as there was an almost overwhelming fear in her eyes. But it was the color of her eyes that seized his attention - they were a simple gray. Not the gold of a young angel, nor the fiery orange of a demon. And then, an absolutely impossible thought entered War's mind.
'No. It can't be -'
And then the Shadowflight wings gave out on him, causing him to plummet to the ground. He shifted his body, so that his descent would place him directly in the center - right where the second of the two combatants were fighting.
The warrior was doing an admirable job at staying alive in what looked like a hopeless situation. Just him and his guns, surrounded on all sides by bloodthirsty demons. But he seemed to be having difficulty with one particularly tenacious member of the demonic horde, leaving his back completely exposed. One demon was moving up behind him, readying a killing blow.
War, however, would have none of that - not until he learned who this mysterious warrior was.
Right before the demon was about to strike, War dropped out of the sky - seemingly from nowhere. The demon was completely surprised. It hesitated - and it paid dearly for this.
Before it could react, War drew Chaoseater and swung it like a baseball bat.
The sword slammed into the Hell-spawn with incredible force, sending the demon rocketing skyward.
And then the battle went deathly quiet. All the noise - all the chaos that emanated from this battle ceased instantly. But there was one sound that still existed - a struggle.
War sheathed his sword, but he did not turn to face the fight.
Steel against steel - one blade grinding against another. The sounds of two warriors grunting with exertion.
War did not turn.
Then, an end to the stalemate. One warrior let out an exaggerated grunt - he had been the unfortunate one. He was pushed back.
War did not turn.
The sound of a blade sinking into flesh and blood permeated the battlefield. A pained exhale of breath, followed by ragged breathing. And then War heard the utterance of a single, malicious word.
He did not turn.
"Die."
BOOOOM! A deep, thunderous gunshot echoed throughout the plains. War heard the distinct sound of a blade being removed from a corpse.
And then, CLICK!
War whirled himself around with lightning speed, Mercy drawn and leveled in an instant.
The sight that met him shocked him beyond all belief.
War had turned around only to stare down the barrel of a sidearm. A stalemate. But that was not what had seized War's attention. He could care less about the gun being pointed at his head, especially since he was doing the same thing towards the other.
No, it was not the stalemate that sent shockwaves throughout War's being. He had been in numerous situations like this before, albeit usually not with Mercy. It was the warriors identity that had made him stop and look.
'Impossible...'
This warrior was human. Not an angel, and most certainly not a demon.
The human was a male - he was tall, lean, and muscular, standing at around 5'10" - although he would never reach War's size. He seemed to have an air about him that seemed to utterly dominate the scene, despite being smaller than most of the demons here.
He had a cool and confident demeanor about him - he looked like he could take on the world single-handedly and emerge from the pandemonium unscathed.
His clothing was old and well-worn. On his feet were brown combat boots, scuffed after what looked like many years of use. Cargo pants adorned his legs, with the fabric being of a woodland camouflage color. Here and there, patches of the pants had torn slightly, revealing the white fabric underneath the camouflage coloring that held everything together.
Farther up, he was wearing a sleeveless, skintight white shirt that showed off his muscular physique. Strapped to his frame and going over his shoulders was a bandolier that was filled with nothing but shotgun shells. His entire attire was covered in the blood of his adversaries, clearly showing how long he had been fighting.
Of particular intrigue to War was the human's weapons. He wielded two long, black rifles, one for each hand - one of which was currently in a specialized thigh holster. From what War could tell during his time traveling and exploring the ruined human cities and military bases, he surmised that the rifles were shotguns. These rifles, however, looked heavily modified.
Each rifle had a laser sight targeting module attached to the side of the weapon, giving the human a tactical aiming advantage. On the underside of the rifle was a magazine of some sort that War has never seen before. It looked short and stocky, with a cylindrical design - the magazine seemed to be a supplement for the tubular magazine that was standard for most shotguns. The tubular magazine itself was as long as the barrel, complete with a pump.
But of notable interest to War was what looked like oversized and exaggerated bayonets, complete with glistening, silver steel. They might as well have been blades attached to the rifles.
The blades were placed directly in front of the barrels of each gun. But they had a separation in the steel that allowed the ammunition to pass through. So instead of one, whole blade, it looked like two separate ones - one fixed to the bottom, and one fixed to the top. The top blade, however, seemed to go back along the barrel for several inches, seeming to also serve as rudimentary sights.
But this weapon was down at the human's side. The current firearm being aimed at War was a simple handgun, complete with a small bayonet.
Then War's glowing blue eyes glanced upwards and locked with non-glowing, emerald green eyes.
The human's head sported long, unruly brown hair, evident that he had not been groomed in a while. A 5 o'clock shadow covered a good portion of his face, once again indicating that he had yet to clean himself properly for some time. A straight, thin nose and moderately-sized lips made up the rest of his thin, oval-shaped head.
He had cocky little smile plastered on his face.
"Well stranger, just who might you be?" he asked. His voice was deep - mature.
The human's gaze lingered from War's down to the quad-barreled Mercy.
He eyed the large revolver, tilting his head curiously, like some cat. He let out an appreciative whistle.
"Nice gun. Where'd you get it?"
Now War was confused. "You aim your weapon at me, and yet you attempt to make conversation? Are you even human?"
The man let out a short laugh. "Last time I checked, yeah, I was human...I think."
"You think?" War asked suspiciously, narrowing his eyes. "Do you not know what you are?"
The man relaxed his posture, lowering the sidearm a little bit. He gave a shrug. "Who knows. I'm not so sure myself sometimes," he laughed again.
War grew even more perplexed.
"And besides," the human continued. "what does me being human have anything to do with trying to strike up a conversation? Just trying to be civil is all I'm doing."
"There is no place for civility on the battlefield, human."
He snorted. "Jesus, you've got a major stick shoved up your ass. Would it kill you to relax a bit?"
War merely raised a white eyebrow.
"I take that as a no, then," he said, laughing again. He raised the pistol back up to the previous position.
"So then, if we're going to be having at each other, then can you at least tell me your name? I'd hate to kill you if I didn't know your name. It's just plain rude."
War narrowed his eyes even further. "Kill me?" he asked curiously, as if the mere thought was impossible.
"Well yeah. You never know who you might run into on a battlefield. Hell, the next guy over might be the biggest and meanest fucker on this side of the world. You never know when you might run into that one person who is superior to you in every way." The human finished the sentence with another one of his cocky smiles.
'He thinks he can actually hurt me,' War thought arrogantly.
War was never arrogant. But after being on the battlefield for so long and not being killed for every battle that he was in - well, that can change a warrior's ego. War however, was quick to check his arrogance - he promptly bit it in the bud and threw it away. An ego can end up being the undoing of any warrior.
And besides, despite what the human was implying, he had sound logic, for which War had to agree with.
Then, completely unexpectedly, one of the demons tentatively stepped forward from the rest of the horde. However, it spoke boldly, as if he was in command of the entire army. The monstrosity probably was not - it was another one of those Phantom Guards.
"Do not be so rash with your words, human," it spoke deeply. It stepped closer to the man.
"The warrior that you see before you is in fact War, rider of the Red Horse and one of the Four Horsemen of the Charred Council."
The man completely lowered his pistol this time. "Tell me, demon."
He whipped up his sidearm, lightning quick, to the demon's head, and glared at it with the fury of a thousand warriors.
"Since when have I asked for your council?" he asked maliciously.
BANG!
The dead demon dropped to the ground, an entry wound between the eyes.
The horde was shocked silent even further, if that was even possible.
"Does it matter who they are? Kill them both!" a demon roared.
The demons were awoken from their stupor and roared with murderous glee.
War and the man exchanged glances - a complete "oh shit" moment.
They looked in opposite directions - War to the left, the man to the right. Then they charged at each other, weapons held high. Then at the last second, the two spun and ducked - the blades of their respective owners whizzing past overhead.
Two demons fell apart at the seams as steel ripped through flesh and bone.
Now, the man and War stood back to back, sword raised and gun drawn. They were surrounded on all sides, demons roaring with hateful bloodlust.
"So...War, huh?" The two glanced at each other over their shoulders, out of the corners of their eyes. The rider of the red horse nodded in acknowledgment. The man did the same.
He extended a hand beneath and behind his left arm to War.
"We really didn't get to introduce ourselves."
"And your name, human?"
War lowered Chaoseater and turned around, now facing the man. The man, holstered his sidearm, and did likewise, still offering his empty hand. Then, War extended his own, gauntlet-covered right hand, and clasped firmly.
The two shook.
"Lazarus."
War and Lazarus. Before, in a standoff. Now, in a mutual alliance between warriors.
Then, in a final frenzied cry, the demons charged from all directions.
The two spun again, back to back once more - weapons at the ready once again; War with Chaoseater, Lazarus with his two rifles.
"It'll be a pleasure fighting with you War."
"The same to you, Lazarus."
Lazarus gave one last cocky smile. "Right then. Let's kick some ass!"
And then, they themselves charged.
Amidst the insane cries of the demons, the frenzied roars of the Hell-spawn, two distinct sounds could be heard.
Above the din of the battlefield, two unstoppable war cries rang out and dwarfed everything else.