Chapter 138 - The Oni's Retribution.
Lien:
Fighting alone was clearly a mistake.
The ice construct was much fiercer when tackling it alone. Its swings were deadly and precise, demanding a narrow margin for error as Lien put her all into the footwork to evade the flurry of frigid slashes. Judging by her proximity and how she wasn't wounded by any blade yet, she deduced the puppet wielded a pair of kunai from the small diversity of weapons they showcased so far.
Even if she knew the exact location of her enemies, she only perceived them as a shapeless sensation. Identifying attack patterns was virtually impossible, not to mention the subtle intricacies of the diverse body types among Monoke and animals, without the luxury of sparring with them multiple times prior. Because of that, her mother dedicated hours upon hours of teaching her almost any possible strike combinations her anthropomorphized canine body allowed, bare-handed and weapon-wielding, and how to evade and counter them.
Lien never understood why, but every formation drilled into her memory and senses was imprinted effortlessly. That said, her blindness would always mean the element of luck was ever more prominent for her than for her peers.
"I only need one opening. Just one..." She steeled herself with resolve as she narrowly missed a pouncing attack at the puppet. Its lanky body type was a complete hassle, combined with its surprising swiftness.
Lien braced herself as the golem's Saniya lunged back at her for a counterattack! However...
"Lien! Duck!"
The Wolf didn't think twice before complying, not even registering who the speaker was. Suddenly, another Saniya flew at her opponent, followed by two loud cracks!
"It's defenseless now!" Stella, her dear packmate and girlfriend, shouted. "One strong blow! You can do it!"
Lien flared her Saniya to the limit, howling as adrenaline pumped through her veins over her muscles! "Thanks, Stella!" The overwhelming beam of energy united onto her paws. Then, with a barrage of slashes, she slivered the moving mannequin into a multitude of morsels, only ceasing once her claws couldn't feel the solid ice making contact any longer.
"Incredible..." Stella uttered with awe as the pup allowed the energy to fade into the winds. Even with the undeniable strain, the canine couldn't help but feel reenergized once her partner's scent grew closer. "Still. Please, don't run off on me like- AH!"
The Human was tackled to the ground and pinned beneath Lien's weight. She couldn't tell why, but direct contact with her girlfriend made her blood course hotter than before for the past few weeks. Not even a great hunt made her so hyper! Has her mother felt the same thing when she met her dad? No wonder his death affected her that much...
...
Damn it. Lien made herself feel sad.
"Lien?" Stella caressed her mane, not even bothered after her aggressive display of affection. "You okay?"
"Y-Yeah..." she muttered while standing up. "Just some sad stuff in my head, you know?"
"I get it." Stella joined her. "Do you... wanna talk about it now? We don't even know how to go for that core."
Lien shook her head. "There's no need." She forced a smile while scratching the itch on her neck. "I think we can track-"
She froze. A downpour of dread drowned every other thought as every strand of fur stood up. Something monstrous appeared on her natural radar: a Saniya signature, towering over everything she thought possible, including Grýla, like a gargantuan leviathan, exerted so much pressure on her as if gravity was being reshaped and heightened to keep someone as weak as her at bay.
For the first time in her short life, Lien was finally aware of her place in the grander scheme of things.
Not even Stella's touch or scent could free her. Her sense of self gradually returned as the signature distanced itself from them. Even so, one could hardly call her state sentient.
At the very least, a pleasant warmth rushed through her. Her packmate's tight embrace was the only thing - the very anchor - her mind used to keep herself from spiraling further.
"T-That's... Yuki-onna...?"
Hanaken:
Her fists swung with purpose and cracked the ground with each catastrophic collision, forming more and more deep craters. Her black and yellow eyes shone with purpose, never leaving her elusive target, no matter how much Hibagon tried to dart all over the place for his dear life.
"Slippery bastard..." she growled, compelling a massive chunk of rock to hover above her palm while the dastardly bard kept his shakuhachi to his lips.
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In the corners of her peripheral vision, countless flashes of light of multiple colors ignited, repelling the vicious worms from intercepting Hanaken's righteous vengeance. What a shame for him that they caught up to the machinations behind these constructs' design.
"No one will save you..." The Oni slowly closed her fist as if squeezing something invisible. The rock she held was heated by the unseen pressure from her energy, acquiring a reddish color. "NO ONE WILL RECOGNIZE YOUR CORPSE!!!" She abruptly clenched her hand, the stone bursting and re-coalescing into a blob of magma!
The overheated lump had divided into three projectiles, soaring toward the Daien at different arcs! Unfortunately, the evasive bard found the correct angle somewhere amidst the three trajectories, jumping to avoid being sizzled.
Hanaken growled, running at him as her feet created an assortment of deep cavities. She boosted her speed by compelling the ground to push back against her soles with greater force at the right moment to make the most of the momentum.
Hibagon, never leaving his beloved flute unattended, swerved through the primal, destructive flurry of the brute. Just like their last confrontation, he used her massive body as a platform to facilitate his own cowardly tactics.
Oh, but she fucking hoped he would fall back to his comfort zone. A conniving, vicious grin crooked her rough-as-stone lips.
While the Daien was occupied with Hanaken's terrifying punches, kicks, and stomps, she hid relatively small clumps of rock beneath her bear pelt and the sarashi covering her breasts. One fucking slip and karma would send him back to the shadows...
After a few minutes of fruitless back and forth, Hibagon evaded an earth-shattering punch and counterattacked with a mighty flying kick at her nose, forcing her to stumble back! While pained, the red brute smiled through the ache as her opponent greedily lunged at her for the follow-up.
And there came the karma. A sharp piece of stone escaped from the pelt, connecting gruesomely to the bard's thigh. On an impressive note, only a sharp, ear-piercing note was uttered from the flute rather than a really painful wail. She had to commend him for his dedication, although begrudgingly...
Another rock pierced his shoulder, forcing him to play the shakuhachi with only one hand and his feet. Well, until the former was also rendered inoperative by Hanaken's last secret projectile, shot straight from between her bosom.
Once the deed was done, the Oni severed the bard from his signature weapon with a straightforward yet bone-crushing push kick, sending him reeling almost beyond what her eyes could glimpse. No words I write can ever scratch the surface of the elation she felt, the surging, intoxicating mixture of satisfaction and thirst for further violence as she took slow, deliberate steps toward her prey. The loud thuds, most likely the worms, falling like lumps of useless garbage that couldn't function without their dear creator pulling their strings with windy melodies, barely registered in her senses.
Her entire world narrowed. The tunnel that became her sight focused solely on the writhing, panting Hibagon. Her mind was overtaken by the urge for justice, for retribution, to make him understand the pain she would be forced to take the full brunt of once this nightmare was over...
A small piece of her tried to find any resemblance to mercy deep within her. Ironically, it not only failed, but its failure fueled her anger even further. How dare she try to redeem this monster in any shape or form?! Whatever personal life or meaningful bonds this terrorist had, he had lost the right to see them again once he took the life of someone, her best friend, who gave his all to find meaning in his existence.
Hanaken yanked him by the collar of his cape. His groggy eyes, unfocused from the concussion, attempted to lock entirely on hers in vain.
She lifted him as far as she could. "Gentō didn't deserve this..." Her fist literally conflagrated, her resolve feeding it faster than oxygen. "All he ever wanted was to find a place he could fit, be himself! And you took it all away for WHAT?!" Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. "FOR YOU TO PROVE A FUCKING POINT?! YOU'VE MURDERED A FELLOW MONOKE FOR ONE HUMAN?!"
Hibagon's arms slowly moved to clutch her shaking hand. "The... Baku..."
Something snapped inside Hanaken. Her eyes couldn't see anything, her vision darkened by the overwhelming urge to see her enemy's gore plastered all over the battlefield.
"HIS NAME!" She swung her arm, ready to squash the Daien like a measly cockroach. "IS GENTŌ!"
She already pictured the satisfaction of breaking every bone, of feeling the warmth of his blood when he collided against the floor. And yet... it never came. Instead, a powerful force wrapped around her arm, intent on not letting her limb budge an inch.
Gradually, the figurative mist before her eyes cleared ever so slightly, enough for her to glimpse The Silver Knight and Captain Tash clinging to her biceps, anchoring themselves with visible strain.
"Hanaken," the Knight spoke calmly for the first time, as far as she knew. "We understand. Your pain is far too much for you to bear. Still, I insist you listen..." His breathing was rapid and shallow. "Hibagon's demise won't bring you the closure you expect. We do not honor the death of our comrades with more of it. Instead, we must choose life."
"Besides..." Captain Tash took her turn, her claws almost deep enough to shed blood. "Whatever intel he can give us will be instrumental to the defeat of Yuki-onna. She's the true perpetrator of Gentō's demise if not someone higher in the Tizohi's Chosen..."
The guards' words rang somewhat true inside Hanaken's psyche, even if they came from entirely different motivations. Nonetheless, while her arm started to yield and quiver, her lust for what she considered justice wasn't nearly close to being sated...
While her mind became a ticking bomb of thoughts, a weak voice pulled her attention...
"Alive..." Hibagon, limp and barely conscious while hanging by the collar, muttered over and over again. "Baku... Gentō... Alive..."
Her eyes widened, and her body stiffened yet again. What... Was he actually implying that-
"A hole..." He coughed. "Escaped... before... explosion..."
She let him go. Not by purpose, her hand made the decision for her. The bard must've been lying. His words smelled of a dying Monoke's last-ditch effort to survive.
And yet, here she was... Like a foolish child, she held to the faintest piece of hope given from the shadiest of sources.
While a group of misshapen blurs darted before her sight, all Hanaken could be aware of were the questions birthed from this alleged revelation. Why would he allow himself to be deemed dead, even by his closest friend? Has he realized all this trouble was far more than he could handle and fled the first chance he got while his companions were left for themselves? Or was another scheme brewing within his mind, and the opportunity only hasn't presented itself?
So many questions, all cut through by a chilling voice inside her headspace like a knife on butter.
"A fitting place for your frozen tombs, I see."