Caracara's Hunt 85 The Price Of Power
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This time, Arawn made sure not to move too much. He slowly raised his head and nodded. It was strange to be lying on the ground while chaos was all around them, but he couldn't think of a better way to ensure that he was recognized.
"Can you understand me?" Rain asked, still not relaxing her guard.
The two people unfamiliar with Arawn were looking at her like she had gone crazy while Val and Betty stared at him with obvious shock on their faces. There was both fear and disbelief in their expressions.
He nodded again and rose up. With a throw of his head, he pointed toward the rubble where the n.o.ble's stand had been. It was the only place not full of people and that could allow them to escape.
The wariness in Rain's gaze did not disappear, but she agreed to his suggestion. "Let's go then. We can discuss this later."
"You know this thing?" the unfamiliar earth mage cried out.
When Arawn turned to him, the man took a step back. His hands were shaking, and there was a maniacal light in his eyes. It was obvious he was on the verge of bolting away.
"Lead the way," Val said. "We need to leave now!"
The whole group was exhausted after fighting for their lives, and he was no exception. But this wasn't the time to rest. If they didn't leave during the chaos, the guards would apprehend them once more after calming down the mob.
Arawn agreed with the idea to leave the city and ran toward the rubble. After a couple far-reaching dashes though, he slowed and turned around. The group had started moving, but they were much slower than him.
For some reason, that reminded him of Rain's words - if we have to escape, we'll have to leave you behind because you can't ride a horse. It was almost ironic how reality turned that upside down. Who was waiting for whom right then?
With a shake of his head, Arawn turned back and went up the rubble. Nothing of the n.o.ble's stand remained. It was a huge pile of rocks that was somewhat treacherous to climb.
There were red stains in a few places, and a few limbs sticking out from beneath the ground, but no sound could be heard. No one was pleading to be saved.
It was possible that everyone had just died in the explosion, but Arawn doubted that. Even if the king and the archmage hadn't expected it, they would have some countermeasures since it wasn't out of the realm of possibility. Their survival was almost guaranteed.
From the top of the rubble, Arawn could see the path ahead of them blocked by soldiers. They were lined in two rows and stood with spears held before them. They were prepared to stop anyone from going after the survivors.
Upon noticing him, a few of the soldiers cried out. Their expressions went grave, but they didn't bolt. A captain on the right screamed out an order, and the spears were hoisted higher up.
On the sides, the streets were full of escaping citizens. There were so many of them, no one could move. Trying to leave through there would be the same as staying in the arena. They wouldn't get to leave much farther and might get trampled to death if they fell.
'We'll have to kill our way out of here.'
The thought didn't sit well with Arawn, but he knew he would have to do it. Once he chose to change, it was no different from going through a door which got locked behind him. His only choice was to go forward and hope for the best.
There was no certainty he could ever turn back, since no other adult beast had done that, so he had to make it worth it. No matter the price, he had to ensure his companions' survival.
'I'm sorry,' he murmured, not knowing himself to whom he was saying it.
Without waiting for the group to ascend, he charged down the rubble hill, straight at the soldiers. Their eyes widened and hands trembled, but they stood in line.
The sharp points of the spears should have terrified Arawn, or at least made him reluctant to rush at them, but he knew they wouldn't be able to do anything to him. Despite only changing into a beast minutes ago, he was sure of it.
When he was close to the soldiers, he used his acceleration to leap high into the air. He soared over the spears held at chest level when his right back foot accidentally hit one man's head, bringing him down.
It took Arawn an extra second to catch himself, but that was it. In a heartbeat, he was on his feet behind the enemy lines. The soldiers panicked and tried to turn around, but their long spears got in the way, and they didn't have time to reform their picture perfect rows.
Arawn dashed into their midst. His claws and teeth tore through flesh and armor, felling one soldier after another. Their spears were toy sticks in front of him, and their daggers toothpicks.
Like a messenger of death, he cleaned the street of life. Wherever he went, no one survived. Yet the captain kept on shouting orders to stand strong, to defend.
That went against Arawn's wishes, so he growled deep in his throat and went for the man. A few soldiers tried to stand in his way, but he muscled past them without much care.
The captain shrieked like an animal brought in for slaughter when he noticed what was happening and ordered his men to stand before him. Then, he ran for his life.
However, he had chosen to run from the wrong enemy. If the man had just left at the start, Arawn would have never chased after him, but now… The soldiers would have broken and ran long ago if not for the captain's constant threats about deserters being executed.
Arawn pounced on the running man and extended his claws. They sunk deep into his back, killing the captain instantly.
Standing with his front leg on the corpse, Arawn turned to the remaining soldiers. Blood was dripping from his snout, and he raised his lip to snarl at the men. They froze, horror-stricken. Not one of them even dared to breathe.
Arawn pulled his claws out of the corpse, but didn't retract them. They clicked loudly on the cobbled street.
The sound acted like a trigger. All the soldiers dropped their spears and turned their backs on him. Some rushed into the mob while others disappeared into the empty street. In a few moments, not a single soul remained where the soldiers had stood guard moments before.
A gasp from somewhere nearby caught Arawn's attention. He raised his head and saw the six people standing on the rubble hill. They had already taken in the corpse-filled street and were now looking at him.
"Arawn, you…"
The disbelief and horror in Rain's voice hurt almost as much as having to kill innocents. Arawn knew it was either them or his companions, but somehow it didn't help this time. He knew just how artificial their conflict was. If not for the king, they would have no argument with each other.
But the king was most likely alive, so they had to fight. He was better at it, and so he was the one who came on top.
Life and death could be decided by such a simple equation.
'Wasn't life supposed to be precious beyond everything? Hadn't I promised not to kill anyone unless they had given up on it by trying to take another's life?' Arawn wondered.
It was too late to question himself though. The soldiers were dead, and he had broken his promise.
It was the first time it had happened, but he had a feeling it would not be the last. If they met someone else on the way, he would have no choice once more.
At least he couldn't talk right then. It was a small blessing that he did not have to explain himself.
He growled at the group on the pile of rubble and motioned at the empty street with his head. Then, without waiting to see if they followed, he walked down it while listening to the sounds around. If anyone had hidden themselves, he wanted to know about it.
On the next street, Arawn heard the tw.a.n.g of a crossbow. He ducked, avoiding the bolt, and lunged at the house from which it had come. The hinges of the door broke under his force, and he landed on the door in a dark room.
With a low shout, a woman announced her position by the window and rushed at him with her crossbow. It would have taken too long to reload it, so she used it as a club.
The weapon came too close to Arawn's eyes for his liking, and he backtracked. The woman hadn't expected for him to move so fast, and the heavy weight of the crossbow brought her arms down. She couldn't adjust the angle of her attack on time.
Once the crossbow was down, Arawn pounced on the woman and killed her. Her death was quick, and Arawn was about to leave when he noticed something strange—the woman wasn't wearing any armor.
She was dressed in a commoner's dress, and there was a pot of water boiling over a fire deeper in the room. On the table by the window, lettuce had been chopped up and poured into a bowl. A cuc.u.mber lay on a cutting board, halfway finished.
With a trembling heart, Arawn looked back at the woman. Her face was quite young, and there was no muscle in her thin arms. Only true terror could have made her capable of raising the heavy crossbow.
'A beast… I'm a beast…'
Tears collected in Arawn's eyes, and laughter bubbled in his throat. He just thought of how he was turning worse, and now he killed a true innocent. The woman wasn't even a soldier who had chosen to go out of her way to defend a cruel monarch. She had done nothing but try to protect her home from a creature that killed everyone it saw.
Arawn should have known better. He hadn't been attacked because someone wanted to kill him, but because they wanted to protect themselves from him. His people, and he now had to claim the beasts as such, were murderous folk.
And he was just like them. From the moment he had turned, it was all he had done. Kill, kill, and kill more. It was his first instinct, and only after the deed was done did his conscience rea.s.sert itself and call him out for his actions.
But what did it matter when the woman was already dead? All his regret and guilt were nothing but stones thrown against a wall in an empty room. No one would care if he did it or not.
There was the sound of footsteps on the street, and Arawn walked out of the room. Rain and the rest had caught up to him and looked in his direction with questioning gazes. Why was he delaying?
No answer would have been good enough, so Arawn lowered his head and left the house. His steps were heavy, but no less sure or steady. The confusion in his heart had no effect on the sheer unstoppable force that was a beast.
Even if he wasn't paying full attention to his surroundings, he could hear every sound and unconsciously recognize which one spelled danger and which one was just the natural clamor of the city. It was how he discovered an ambush behind the next street corner and avoided a squadron of earth mages hidden underground.
The whole world was nothing more than a playground for him. It had no way to catch him off guard or stop him from going where he wanted to go.
Caracara's Hunt 85 The Price Of Power
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Caracara's Hunt 85 The Price Of Power summary
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