Chapter 109: Horn of Gabriel. (4)

The frozen wastes trembled as Gabriel’s magic dug deeper into the ice, breaching the ancient seal that had been dormant there since time immemorial. He could feel it. A subtle sensation within his chest, a quiet tingling lingering in the depths of his heart.

It was down there, beneath the ice.

Each burst of magic awoke it, roused it from its ageless slumber. Angered it.

But Gabriel kept digging, the third prince trembling quietly in the distance, stealthily creeping away while pretending to shiver in fear. He moved slowly, oh so slowly, because of his ruined leg, but he also knew that all hope wasn’t lost yet. His sister had divine magic, so if he could get back to the capital then she would be able to heal him.

And then the ice broke apart.

Silvanos could see it, the thousands upon thousands of crimson lines that dug through the ice, pulsating with magic unlike any he had felt in his life. But that magic was now broken, a section of the lines torn open to reveal a gap in the spell. And within that gap he saw what he could only describe as a gargantuan elbow, the slightly bent piece of a limb so large that even a dragon probably wasn’t a match for the full size of whatever beast this thing was attached to.

Sealed in ice, pulsating with magic, an air of life and icy air radiating from it. Fresh and vibrant, those were the only words he could think of to describe what he felt from the limb.

And yet, it looked anything but.

Pale white scales that had grown dry and cracked, deep blue veins that barely flickered with traces of light, there were even places where the flesh had rotted and slid off the bone. It felt fresh, but the limb was rotting where it lay, decaying further with each passing day. And yet… It felt as terrible as the certainty of death, an omen of the inevitable.

Gabriel looked down at the elbow, a minute wrinkle between his brows. He could still vividly remember how the claw from back then looked. Its pale white scales gleamed like snow beneath the sun, the deep blue veins pulsed like a heart, and the cold mist oozing from it felt like it could freeze even the wind. Eight peach-colored eyes had looked up at him with all the fury and majesty of an apex monster.

But this elbow… it couldn’t be called anything but decrepit. It had a lone eye nestled within the bend of its joint, its vibrant color already dull and murky. Was it already… dying? Was it because of how he unlocked the seal? Was it because he killed the claw? Was it because he absorbed it? Or had the claw been a special case?

He had an answer to none of these questions. Well, he didn’t even know what this thing was. Even when he tried to look it up after they left the duchy, all he could find was old legends that spoke of an ancient demon laid to eternal rest by the jaws of Barong. But none of them ever spoke of what this demon was, only that it would spend eternity getting devoured in the frozen maw.

He didn’t know what it was. He didn’t know where it came from. He didn’t even know its name. So how could he ever hope to have an answer to any questions he had about it?

Ah, well, there was one question about it that he could answer actually.

He could kill it.

RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

The ground trembled as the rotting limb twitched, the veins coursing across it pulsating as if to protest against its current state. The chill got worse, ice falling from the sky as every last trace of moisture that remained froze.

Silvanos started to choke, the inside of his throat freezing because he failed to protect himself with magic. With the rising chill, the elbow also started to move.

Unlike the claw, which had nails and fingers it could use to move around, the elbow had nothing. Nothing but its ice that is. Long spindly limbs attached themselves to its broken scales, lifting it into the air like a grotesque spider. And as it rose, it gathered ice.

Did it sense danger? Was it weary? Unlike the claw, which had waited and watched after it was freed from the seal, the elbow attacked before it even finished rising from the ground. Ice gathered in the air and flew out, a curtain of sharp spears dense enough to block even a fly cut through the air all around the beast.

Silvanos was torn apart without even getting to react, a proud prince of the Earhart Empire losing his little life in a cold and lonely place. None but Gabriel would ever even know where he drew his last breath.

As for Gabriel, he remained in place, gazing calmly at the approaching wall of death. He hadn’t come here without a plan, and he hadn’t chosen the elbow for no reason. There was something he wanted to try, and the result of that experiment would dictate how much effort he would have to put into this battle.

His arm stretched out towards the incoming ice, a thought flitting through his mind for a split-second. And at that moment, the glacial spears, as well as the spindly legs holding the elbow up, erupted into a fine mist of minuscule ice crystals.

The mist fluttered in the air for but a fraction of a second before it blew away, vanishing in the dark world that Gabriel had trapped them all in. The corners of his lips didn’t go up, but his eyes held the unmistakable traces of a smile as he looked down at the elbow, which had fallen to the ground.

The lone eye blinked curiously a few times, seemingly unable to understand the situation. It gathered new ice to form a fresh pair of legs, but Gabriel acted at the same time. Another thought flashed past his mind, and those legs too erupted into a shower of tiny frozen crystals.

And once again, the elbow fell to the ground with a loud thud.

Ah, so it really did work.

Gabriel had devoured the claw, which had controlled ice oh-so nimbly. And in turn, he had acquired the ability to control ice in the same way. In that case, what happened when two entities who could control ice faced off?

And here was the answer, they canceled each other out. The ice tried to obey the beast, and it tried to obey Gabriel. And as a result, it crushed itself while trying to follow two conflicting orders. Thus, the elbow had lost its greatest weapon.

The claw was one thing, it had fingers it could use to move around, sharp nails that could tear a human apart without issue, strong muscles that could crush stone. But what did this elbow have? It could scarcely move, it had no natural weapons, and the ice it relied on had been completely usurped.

Looking down upon such a helpless beast, Gabriel’s hand reached for the sword that hung at his waist. The lone eye looked up at him, blinking quietly. It was a gaze he was used to, it was a gaze he had seen many times in his past life.

He did not show mercy back in those days, and he would not show mercy today either. So he drew the blade. His lady was waiting for him.

—————————

Dawn of the sixth day of Alice’s disappearance. Gabriel was approaching the estate of Earl Cartes, a noble belonging to the Royal faction of the Kasarias kingdom. He was still clad in the armor of the knights of Marquis Bruno, a noble belonging to the Nobles faction of the Kasarias Kingdom.

Technically, since he had the armor of those belonging to the nobles faction, he could probably march straight to Duchess Giselle of the Kasarias Kingdom, who belonged to the Royal faction, and break it all down so that he could retrieve Alice. But that would not be the end-result she desired. She would want it bigger, a fire large enough to swallow the kingdom and the empire.

Gabriel grasped his sword when he reached the gate, the blade whistling as it tore through the air. Metal screeched and blood splattered as he stepped forward, strengthening magic coursing through his every vein and muscle.

Burn.

He stepped forward and swung his blade, his every feature shrouded by the armor. His feet picked up their pace, blood and screams marring the world as his sword drew unceasing arcs through the air.

Burn.

Earl Cartes was on Gabriel’s list, he was one of the nobles of the kingdom who was very interested in the Vritara territory. In another few years, he would start trying to encroach on it, just one small skirmish after another as he tried to nibble away at it. But as of right now, he was a very popular and well-liked noble within his own kingdom. He was a natural choice for Gabriel.

Burn.

He moved through the estate, bringing death with every step, staining the land with blood. Nergal was forbidden from eating the corpses, Gabriel wanted them to remain, he wanted the people of the Kasarias kingdom to see him as he tore through the home of this beloved noble.

Burn.

He cut and he cut, he crushed and tore until screams became sobs, miserable whines of despair. He cut down all that entered his range, he snuffed out every last breath. And then he finally reached the armory. He grabbed a suit of armor bearing the mark of Earl Cartes, storing it away in the shadows. And then he vanished, leaving only death.

Burn.

Next, he arrived by the estate of Marquis Bruno, now wearing the armor bearing the mark of the Cartes family. And there too he raised his sword. He tore through the gate, he tore through the guards.

Burn.

Blood flew, bodies fell, screams rose. At a glance, it looked as if the noble faction had first attacked the royal faction, which then quickly retaliated by attacking the noble faction.

Burn.

Gabriel tore through the estate, reaping lives before stealing another suit of armor. He already had one from this estate thanks to his own men, but he grabbed a new one just to be sure. And then he disappeared again.

Burn.

Next up was another noble of the royal faction, surely a retaliatory attack. He cut metal. He cut stone. He cut lives. He spread nothing but blood and death. And then he disappeared after stealing another set of armor.

Burn.

This time it was the ducal estate of Duke Quinterius, the head of the Nobles faction. A much shorter attack, but a far more devastating one. Water magic was used, unleashing immense destruction before anyone could stop him. So many lives, lost beneath unearthly waves. And then Gabriel disappeared with another suit of armor.

Burn.

Next up was the final stop, the estate of Duchess Giselle. For nigh-on five days, the Kasarias kingdom had been in an uproar. Estate after estate had been attacked by the opposing faction, they did not even dare to count the number of dead. At a glance, it looked as if the kingdom was on the verge of a civil war.

And yet, Duchess Giselle had yet to make a statement, she hadn’t even made an appearance. All who approached the estate were turned away, no letters managed to get past the gates. Why had the duchess sealed her gates?

Burn.

Gabriel guessed that it was Alice, perhaps she had decided to turn things around and hold Giselle hostage until he arrived. It did seem to be something she could think of doing. But it would end today.

Burn.

He donned the armor bearing the brand of Duke Quinterius, the helmet covering his face so that only the suit remained. Then he drew his sword and advanced.

My lady wishes for it, so burn, Kasarias.