Author's Corner

Hello everyone! I'm back! I hope you're all doing okay. Thank you for the lovely reviews! I'm so glad you're enjoying the story. I hope this chapter manages to meet your expectations, and as always, don't forget to review!

Trigger warning: gore and allusions to sexual assault.

EIGHTH BLOOD

Chapter 20: Kill or be killed

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"Why didn't you tell me that everyone can see my tits?"

Sesshoumaru discreetly rolled his eyes.

The front portion of Octavia's kosode was completely shredded. She'd only realised after thinking that her clothes seemed breezier than they had before. That was what she got for engaging in battle without armour. In an attempt to preserve her modesty, she was wearing her pack like a front-facing baby sling, which looked ridiculous, but it was better than flashing.

"It isn't my fault that you refuse to bind your chest."

"It's not like I need to," she mumbled under her breath, inwardly cursing her minuscule cup size.

He eyed the pack covering her breasts and said, "You seem to have found a solution to your problem."

"This isn't permanent. We need to buy new clothes. I don't know if you've noticed, but yours aren't in very good shape, either. Not to mention, they're covered in blood."

"Blood doesn't bother me."

"Well, it bothers me. There's no way I'm hiking through the countryside in these rags. I'm gonna go find a town or something." She saw a sign that indicated there was one nearby. Readjusting her pack, she took note of the arrow on the sign and walked in that direction. Contrarily, Sesshoumaru's feet remained rooted to the spot. "Don't come if you don't want to."

"If you fail to return by sundown, I am leaving without you."

"Whatever," she huffed. "Kólos."

"What was that?"

She stopped walking and pouted at him teasingly. "Was Greek not one of the ten languages your father made you learn?"

He narrowed his eyes. "No."

"That's too bad."

"What does it mean?"

A smile pulled at her lips. "Figure it out."

Sesshoumaru responded in Mandarin.

Her smile faltered as she realised the horror of what she'd done. Her three speaking languages were nothing compared to his ten, and most importantly, he'd acquired them all without the help of the supernatural. "Wow," she said sarcastically. "How mature of you."

"You started it, human."

"Oh, piss off."

He chuckled as she marched away angrily, resisting the urge to throw a rock at him. He clearly enjoyed tormenting her. What had happened to the silent demon who'd ignored her every word? This new one was too overbearing for her liking. She hoped the change wasn't permanent.

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The trail led her to a little village by a lake. The villagers were unfazed by her dishevelled appearance, having been exposed to much worse due to the tumultuous nature of the time period. She purchased a new kosode and hakama from a clothes vendor, as well as a sturdy pair of geta sandals to replace her old ones. She was disappointed by the lack of boots available.

Thinking of Sesshoumaru, she traded her remaining earring for the most expensive piece of clothing the vendor had to offer. It was a pale grey kosode with a horizontal blue stripe that ran along the shoulders. It wasn't exactly fit for a warlord, but at least it was clean.

She changed in the forest and washed her ear in a stream. Although the skin was healing, it was still unpleasant to look at. She folded her old clothes and shoved them into her pack with the one she'd bought for Sesshoumaru. They took up a lot of room in the bag, but they'd be useful for future injuries. Sliding her arms into the straps, she stood and headed towards the road.

Screams blasted through the trees, forcing her to swiftly retrace her steps.

The village was being raided by cutthroats and thieves. Octavia watched from the treeline as the villagers were pulled from their homes and forced to the ground. Octavia averted her eyes as one of the bandits drove his sword into an elderly woman's stomach without even hesitating. What should she do? If she rushed in blindly with her sword drawn, she'd be killed instantly, and asking Sesshoumaru to help simply wasn't an option. You're wasting time, she reprimanded herself. Every second you sit here, someone else dies. It doesn't matter what, just do something!

But what?

She felt her eyes being drawn to the stables on the village outskirts. Grinning, she made her way over to them, keeping low so that the bandits didn't see her. They'd already taken all of the horses. It was a shame that they hadn't thought to steal any of the other animals. Octavia unsheathed the Sword of the Firebird and destroyed the latches trapping them in their pens. The oxen broke down the stable doors and stampeded through the village.

Mounting a donkey, she rode after the oxen, using the chaos they created to her advantage. The donkey was surprisingly obedient. She steered it towards a pair of bandits, who were in the process of restraining a little girl. As she rode past, Octavia slashed at them from behind, knocking them both to their knees. The little girl shrieked and scrambled away. The men tried to stand up, but their wounds were too deep. If they moved, they'd most certainly bleed to death.

"Someone catch that fucking woman!" bellowed one of their comrades.

The donkey barrelled into him. Octavia had whacked him in the neck with her sword before he even hit the ground. Blood spurted from the gash she'd created, coating his hands when he attempted to plug the bleeding. If she hadn't just battled ogres, she would have been disgusted with herself for fighting so ruthlessly. Here, it's kill or be killed.

She was struggling to lift her sword. They were heavier than they looked in the movies. Her biceps were relieved when she wiped the blade on the donkey's fur and shoved it back into its sheath. She needed a lighter weapon. Currently, the best option was a wooden bucket with an iron handle. Steering the donkey towards it, she picked it up and swung it at the nearest bandit's head. The sound alone told her that his nose was almost definitely broken. She swapped the bucket for a farming hoe and bashed another bandit in the face, breaking his nose, as well.

"Get her, boss!"

A hand grabbed her by the collar and yanked her off the donkey's back. It happened so unexpectedly that the hoe slipped out of her grasp and landed on the ground. She dangled in the air before a giant of a man. He was tall and burly, with one hand fisted in her kosode, whilst the other pressed a katana to her throat. The blade kissed her flesh – not hard enough to draw blood – and the man snarled at her. She swallowed carefully, conscious of the katana.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" he boomed. "Riding into battle on a donkey of all things. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were a mononoke."

"I am," she choked, trying to sound convincing. "Let me go or I'll curse your whole bloodline."

He howled with laughter. "We've got ourselves a joker!" The blade pushed harder against her skin. She winced as he leaned in close and whispered, "I like a woman with a sense of humour. If you hadn't fucked over so many of my men, I might've been persuaded to let you live. I prefer to have something to grab onto, if you know what I mean, but you all feel the same down there."

She growled at him through her teeth.

It just made him laugh harder.

A bead of sweat rolled down the side of her face. Why did she have to be so weak?

You are not weak.

Octavia stiffened. She hadn't expected an answer. Whose voice had that been, anyway? It wasn't a voice she recognised. Had she imagined it?

There wasn't time to find out.

She slipped the Reikon Blade out of its sheath and plunged it between the bandit leader's eyes. He let go of her collar and dropped his katana in shock. His men gasped in horror, struggling to comprehend what had happened. Even Octavia felt perturbed. The sight was incredibly bizarre. Whilst the dagger had absolutely pierced his flesh, no blood poured out of the wound. The Reikon Blade was stuck like a knife in a slab of cold butter. He didn't seem to be in any pain. If he was, he was a master of deception. Had it been any other weapon, he would have been dead instantly.

Octavia took several steps back as he reached for the dagger's hilt and slowly pulled it out. His eyes shone with bloodlust. The voice returned when he advanced towards her.

You are not weak, it said again. Show them what you are capable of. You might not be able to drain power from your surroundings anymore, but that is not the full extent of your abilities. There is power in you, Okteviah True Jewel. More power than you can possibly imagine. Use that instead.

Before she could mull over what the words meant, a ribbon of green light materialised behind the bandits and sliced their leader in two. The Reikon Blade landed in a pool of his blood. Octavia's eyes found the source of the green light and bulged wide when she saw who it belonged to.

Sesshoumaru's eyes were as wide as hers. He lashed the whip again, testing its strength. His actions made deep cuts in the ground. It wasn't an illusion. Somehow, his youki had returned.

"Boss!" cried one of the bandits, falling to his knees beside the man's two severed halves.

"Damn you!" cursed another. "You'll pay for this, bastard!"

The whip shone brighter before emitting green steam. Poison, Octavia realised with a gasp, clamping her hands over her mouth. Oblivious, the bandits lifted their weapons and charged at Sesshoumaru. His eyes turned red, and he smiled, flashing frighteningly sharp teeth.

They stopped dead in their tracks and shivered in fear.

"It's a demon!"

"That means she was telling the truth about cursing the boss!"

"Fuck this! I'm getting out of here before they eat us!"

And just like that, they ran away with their tails between their legs.

Octavia lowered her hands from her face as Sesshoumaru's whip retreated back into his finger. "Your youki," she whispered. "It's—"

"Gone," he finished. "I no longer feel it."

He studied his hands and frowned.

"Why didn't you call for help?" he murmured finally.

"I was handling it."

"Don't be absurd. You almost died."

She ignored him and walked over to the puddle of blood where the Reikon Blade was. Was it your voice I heard? she wondered, leaning to pick it up. The dagger was silent as she wiped it clean on the grass. Sighing, she turned to face Sesshoumaru, whose jaw was pulled tight and vibrating with quiet rage. She met his fiery gaze and held it as the villagers surrounded them.

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Author's Corner

Kólos means ass by the way lol.