Chapter 47 The Ultimate Price
The lethal dance continued, Northern's clone and feral Night Terror working in seamless tandem against their opponent.
Between sword slashes augmenting claw swipes at crucial moments, the disadvantaged lizard began to slow. Gaping wounds liberally leaked dark ichor while massive chest heaves competed for oxygen to fuel flagging muscles.
Yet ferocious temper still burned in its eyes.
The towering enemy knew that to surrender meant obliteration.
Its kind were made to fight until the last spark guttered out. No gentle slide into darkness—only the ecstasy of combat until jaws closed upon the dying breath at last.
The lizard rushed, heedless and without restraint, accepting its own gruesome end if it meant bringing even one of its adversaries alongside.
Enraged death throes shook the blood-slicked ground.
Mighty thews strained desperately as it grappled with Night Terror once more.
Scything talons and snapping teeth sought viscera behind muscle and fur even as the seemingly inexhaustible clone renewed its assaults from behind.
It was a different feel, it was vivid, if before everything got seared into his muscles after the clone returned. Now it was being etched into his soul as he paid attention through their link.
Northern's heart gripped with excitement, he himself longed to fly into battle, it was like there were new moves he'd love to try.
Night Terror's monstrous approach had its crude beauty in the way the dark monster overpowered its enemy with sheer power.
But when faced with a foe that outdid it in raw strength, Northern had thought that the terror would at least be wise enough to abandon that reckless battle style and go for something that spoke skill, and would manuever through the opponent's vulnerabilities as a large creature.
But Night Terror proved worthy to its battle style. Northern didn't even know if the monster knew it had a battle style, after all this was just his own conclusion as he watched them attack each other with a ferocious intent to shed blood.
The Night Terror still used its domineering power of claws and size.
It was very miss-able but since Northern was paying attention from two perspectives —even though he missed it through his own eyes. He realized it with the link between him and his clone.
Night Terror even though it was stubbornly committed to its battle style still handled the battle with an exemplary display of skill.
One that does not befit a monster, even Northern couldn't help but be envious of the monster's thoughtfulness. It was not a technique that just befell someone—this had to be from centuries of one's core being forged through endless battles.
Instead of a brute thoughtless attack at the hulking lizard, Night Terror made use of its sheer attack force on only one point, to crack its tough stone skin while Northern's clone made an all rounder attack.
But even in the way the clone moved, it was predetermined by the terror's steps, it was as if every movement was a path being carved out for the clone to tread freely on.
While the monster fought with a vicious instincts, it outlays path for Northern's clone to cleanly weave his strikes—and those strikes come to be impactful in delaying the onerous lizard for a second or two hence providing Night Terror more time to deal damage.
Watching this play out, Northern couldn't help but feel so little…
'Is this bastard a battle genius?'
Even though it seemed like Night Terror was looking out for the clone on battle, all the effort came to serve it—it was simply using the clone to make things easier for itself but it was very unnoticeable because of the flashy arcs the clone was able to draw thanks to Night Terror's cunning movement.
Northern at this point understood… and knew what it would take to defeat a creature of this caliber.
Together they soon overpowered their flagging opponent, but not before Northern's link registered the creature's herculean efforts.
He witnessed the primal defiance raging in its eyes...felt each resisting tendon fiber within his own copy like a bitter song for remembered glory.
In some all-too-familiar way, Northern recognized a kindred refusal to yield, no matter the odds.
Perhaps they all were chained here on this endless killing field...slave-soldiers bound by the ruthless dictates of uncaring powers playing at conquest. It did not matter what kind of monsters both sides were.
In the end, a shared fate awaited all of them.
Death's patient skeletal hand finally came to collect due tribute.
What matter the chosen instrument of demise?
The Razorlf general's strength finally failed as Numerous grievous injuries took their toll.
Unable to ward off both Northern's clone and the savage Night Terror, it sank to knees turned gelatinous by trauma and blood loss.
Still it hissed venomous defiance, curving talons gouging furrows in the muddy earth now saturated with its own spilled vital fluids.
Milky inner eyelids blinked rapidly with shock even as outer scales took on a dull, flaking appearance.
Its adversaries wasted no time, moving in swiftly for the kill. The clone's tenebrous blade licked out, slipping beneath armored chin scales to pierce deeply into the throat.
At the same time, Night Terror pounced onto the lizard's back, using pure mass to bear it the rest of the way to the ground in a bone-jarring smash.
Hideous jaws closed around the vulnerable juncture between head and neck, fangs puncturing easily through gluey meat and gristle.
The prone creature thrashed weakly, limbs twitching in death throes.
But escape was impossible pinned beneath the four-eyed monster's bulk as it adjusted its savage bite, worrying and tearing like a hellhound with a rodent.
Finally opting for a killing stroke, Night Terror braced huge clawed feet and wrenched its entire body in a sharp twisting motion. A ghastly wet crack rang out as the lizard's spine shattered at the neck—followed instantly by the rending squelch of muscle and sinew separating.
With a contemptuous jerk of its massive head, the general flung aside the mutilated piece of its former opponent.
Tongue lapping out to gather viscous gore clinging to its muzzle, Night Terror straightened and unleashed an ear-
splitting victory bellow skyward.
Nearby the indistinct shadow clone waited silently, onyx blade now stained a deeper hungry black having fed well this day.
Northern gazed out through its eyes, teeth unconsciously bared, he was so focused on the boorish sight that he had forgotten to steal the last kill.
The butchery continued all around despite the lizard general's defeat. Surrounded by ever-rising mountains of corpses Northern's dark gaze crept slowly across the battlefield.
In the distance, clone and Night Terror's stood apart from each other in grave silence.
Northern briefly met the unflinching crimson stares of that relentless monster commander through the link with his clone.
It was still unsatisfied, hungry for more violence. The malevolent thirst personified in those feral orbs seemed endless.
It wasn't just in the eyes of the terror, he noticed it in the eyes of every monster both from the kingdom of Red Mine and the unknown opposition.
Suddenly, it struck him to be dreadful, weird, it felt like no matter how many slaves were taken, how many were killed, how many wars were won… this war would never end.
No side would ever truly emerge victorious.
Not without paying the ultimate price.
The Night Terror cast his clone one last gaze, in its burning eyes there seems to be a note of approval. It turned away, springing into the rest of the battle to lay waste to the enemy.
Northern sighed from where he was… dismissing the clone. What happened next, even he did not anticipate it.