Infinite Champions (Chapter 4)

She wondered just how far she had hiked away from the academy. You would think that for all of the time and hard work she'd invested in the academy's interests, at least someone would humour her suspicion, someone other than Urdin anyway. And after all the times she'd been right in the past too. Never about anything quite this dire of course, but all the same she felt more like everyone was suddenly just working against her, she was in a foul mood to be sure, but she wasn't about to give up either. That's just what Zarenda was like. When she was right about something she just knew it, and she wouldn't rest until everyone else knew she was right too. There had been more than one occasion when she'd made somewhat of a fool of her seniors in the academy over matters of dispute, like the time she'd lectured poor Sirix in front of everyone about the futility of crafting wine from thin air. "We deal in magic, not miracles!" She scolded him loudly and without remorse. "I thought you were supposed to be a senior around here, you are aren't you? Or have I got it wrong?." She was proud of what she knew, but always the first to admit when she was wrong as well, and by her own logic that always made her right in the end anyway. Zarenda was a confident young woman and just as good of a mage to boot. She was the golden skinned prodigy of the mages' academy in Verinholm, also simply known as Verinholm Academy. A place for mages from all across Finito to gather and commit to independent or group studies if they liked, all for the betterment and greater understanding of something they all understood quite well, magic.

Although Zarenda occasionally had arguments with her fellow mages, they were all good friends and no argument ever ensued without the intention of educating one and other, most of them anyway. The academy wasn't so much a place of teaching so much as it were a place for learning, by whatever means deemed necessary and often independently. Most mages who preferred to work in a group typically worked in a familiar crowd with the same friends or colleagues they usually did, most mages didn't know each other on a personal level but were usually familiar with whom was being spoken about at any given time. It was a wonderfully convenient arrangement for the mages, although paid work was rare to come by and often held in reserve for the more senior members. No one complained of course, most were happy enough to just have a free facility to use where they could reflect off of other like minded mages and increase their experience, or for the more ambitious sorcerer, their power. Other rules did apply too, no member of the academy could exploit the facility to earn a profit exterior from sanctioned paid work (usually offered by a third party but not exclusively), a percentage of any of those profits were surrendered to further development of the academy, and any and all research finds or discoveries of note were attributed completely to the academy, although in that case the contributing member would be acknowledged even if it were without recompense. Though besides all of that, the Verinholm Academy was a true haven for mages everywhere.

Among all of the mages attending the Verinholm Academy, often just referred to as Verinholm for short despite also being the name of the city, Zarenda was considered by all a natural, and not only that but charismatic, and beautiful as well. She was barely two generations old but all ready carried an impressive list of achievements and skill set. She had beautiful golden skin almost like cinnamon, and long jet black hair she tied back high. Her hair was full of pins and clips to keep it out of her eyes, though she typically brushed her bangs over her ears, just easier that way. Her brown eyes were sharp like the point of a spear, and her smile was full of cheek and mischief. She knew she was attractive as well and so she dressed for the part. She wore an elaborate top that exposed her well toned midriff, which also showed off her slender shoulders with long sleeves that were just a little baggy, and a pair of matching harem pants, both loose fitting and made from beautiful silks and satin in shades of both pale and dark purple. Behind her waist she also wore a stylish skirt in white, and a belt with a long thin skirt at the front too, which hung almost as low as her ankles. All of the other mages admired her, whether it be for for her smarts, her looks, or just her vibrant, and confident personality, though it was partially for this reason that today she was in such a horrid mood. "The very nerve of everyone!" She thought to herself angrily whilst swatting a low hanging tangle of leaves out of her way, with quite a deal of force too. "One minute it's all praise and the next they think you're paranoid!" She scowled.

The issue in question was something of a complexity as well. In recent days there had been a new enrolment to Verinholm, a tall man with a face hidden behind a white mask with an unnerving wicked grin. The man wore his long hair in a braid that hung over his shoulder, and dressed in a crisp and clean white coat of something like leather, covered in fancy looking belts and straps. His gloves and boots matched as though they were part of some uniform, though a uniform for what was anybody's guess. His appearance to say the least was eccentric, with all the belts and strange cleanness about it, he even had a padded collar protruding around his neck from under his coat, and a pair of puffed sleeves patterned with stripes. His outfit though was not the issue, Zarenda could have cared less about that. What she found alarming was since his appearance, from seemingly nowhere and all of a sudden, every day mages seemed to be disappearing from the academy, as though something had happened to them. The man had made himself known only as Phantom. Phantom had just shown up one day, and made an impression on the seniors of the academy, demonstrating a unique skill with magic. In using a deck of rather large cards, which were all blank save for some artistic markings here and there, he actually demonstrated an ability to cast spells into a card from which the spell could be cast later and at any time with no expense to the wielders stamina or mental fortitude. Zarenda herself admitted that such a thing was impressive, and it was not only that but he also demonstrated a skill of stockpiling spells into a single card as well, essentially amplifying their effectiveness. He was indeed talented, and eccentric as well, with the demonstration of his magic cards, the academy seniors immediately revered him and trusted his counsel, so much that there was immediate talk of him being granted senior status, something that Zarenda, despite all of her achievements had yet to be considered for.

There was just something off about him. With his face hidden behind the mask, and only a name to go on, she couldn't help but feel his sudden arrival, and convenient talent was somewhat suspicious. And once the other mages began disappearing without a trace, that's when she decided she couldn't just sit around any longer and wait to be next. She'd discussed the matter in confidence with a selection of seniors who'd always come to her seeking advice when they were unsure on various matters. In private she explained to them her misgivings about the masked man they all barely knew,
"What if he's a demon? The sudden disappearances of other mages since his arrival can't be just a coincidence!"
She was only scoffed at with this kind of remark, and it felt so strange and alien to her, usually her words were taken seriously by everyone, and no one certainly ever had the courage to scoff at her.
"It sounds more to me that someone around here is suffering from their first taste of actual jealousy." The seniors mused condescendingly. "Look... everyone one day finds someone better than they are at what they do, and we understand that's not something that's easy to grasp, especially when you might have considered yourself the best... before anyway. In time we're all certain that Phantom too will meet his better one day, and he'll be just like you." Zarenda could have screamed. How dare they talk down to her this way, like she were just some child who needed a scolding. She had a similar discussion with all of the seniors she spoke to, save for one in particular, Urdin.

Urdin was indeed a senior of the academy, though he was more of a black sheep in that regard. For the time he'd served there and so selflessly assisting other mages, putting his own interests second all the time, the academy eventually saw fit to give him seniority as a way of thanks. Though he never extended his own influence onto others, and often he was even considered lazy. Most new initiates spent their entire probational periods wondering who he was or if he was new like they were, despite his age. He wasn't too old but his hair was beginning to lose colour these days, and the beard on his chin seemed to suit him a lot better than many of the younger mages. He dressed very plainly too, just a simple robe and hood. His speciality was elemental magic, which just so happened to be Zarenda's as well, though his magic paled in comparison to her's of course. Urdin believed her, at this time she'd gone to him feeling like it was an honest mistake, she always knew when she was right, but how could so many of the seniors disagree with her, and with such callousness as well if she wasn't wrong?
"This Phantom being a demon would make a lot of sense." he nodded. "The more powerful ones take the form of men like us, after all. I'd be lying if I told you I hadn't been watching him as well, and I can't exactly put my finger on what about him I don't trust, but I definitely trust you're onto something." His voice was hushed and he kept looking around as he spoke. Zarenda did the same.
"I need your help, Urdin. I feel like the academy is in a lot of trouble if we don't find some way to convince the other seniors." Urdin rested his hands on his hips somewhat lethargically.
"There's nothing I can say that will convince the others any more than you did." He was modest, but he was right unfortunately, what could he tell the others that Zarenda hadn't all ready? His senior status was little more than a long service medal, they didn't really value his input. "I do want to help you." He assured her. Zarenda looked down and thought for a second before she shot him a serious look.
"I'm going to track that masked man, whoever he really is, and find out what he's up to. I need you to stay here and try to put some pieces together until I get back."
"Do what?" he begged frantically, clearly not sure of what she meant, and hoping it was nothing too dangerous. She tilted her head at him.
"Look around.. understand? See what you can see if you see what I mean."
"You mean..?" And Zarenda sighed impatiently before crossing her arms.
"Go to his chambers. Look for proof that he's up to no good, okay?" Not wanting to upset her, or wanting to betray the confidence he'd just placed in her he agreed. Very begrudgingly, but he still agreed. Zarenda was clearly about to give him a farewell right there, she was keen to get moving but he stopped her.
"Just hold on a second, will you?" he bravely grabbed at her sleeve and pulled her in close enough to hear his whispered words, "Just consider for a moment what it means if he actually is a demon. How do you plan to tail him?" Zarenda didn't speak, clearly getting a little ahead of herself. "If he is, then there's a strong chance he shares one soul among many others, isn't there? I assume you intend to use magic to follow his essence, but you understand how a demon's soul works right?"
"I have to try something, don't I? And of course I know." she scowled and argued his case. "It's not impossible to track a demon's soul with magic, it's just hard, but I can do it!" She insisted that Urdin trust her, and despite his misgivings, he found faith in her confidence, she always seemed to have that effect on others.

Though she didn't want to think about the issue, what Urdin had mentioned about demonic souls was pertinent to consider. Demons had their similarities to the other races of Finito, but in more ways they were completely different. Demons are the monster like creatures who were created by and worshiped the youngest of the five gods, Catastrophe, and lived in his scarred realm of what was known as Fentonhel, once a deep ocean, then drained of all life and water by the god himself. The land was now an open wasteland where only demons felt comfortable. Demons were not inherently like men, or elves by any means, their forms were varied and not always pleasant, but it was a known fact that the more powerful a demon, the more difficult it was to discern them from men. Other than that, the only certain thing to know was demons were rarely born with a soul of their own. It is in the nature of demons to be born in groups, not unlike animals, if that was any indication of how inhuman they were despite appearances. And when a proverbial clutch of demons was born, all demons of said clutch shared but one soul between them. So inhuman they are, they can barely hope for a soul of their own. This was Zarendas problem at the moment. Were Phantom but a normal man she could cast a spell and expect to find a direct trail of his essence to lead her straight to his soul, but if she was right about him, it would become much more difficult trying to navigate his essence between any number of soul fragments scattered across all of Finito.

And so here she was. It had taken her most of the day and the better part of the afternoon to get as far as she had and she started to fear she would need to set up camp before it got too dark. Not really much of an issue at all for a mage with an expertise on elemental magics, but she really didn't want to lose the trail she'd worked so hard to follow all day, and the sooner she could get back to Verinholm the better. She was fearful that Urdin might find a way to mess things up, though she did try to have faith in others, especially those who were backing her in a dire time such as this. She decided if she didn't find Phantom by the time the sun hit the horizon she would set up camp, not leaving herself all that much time honestly. Sleep wouldn't have been the worst idea anyway, she'd grown tired from the long walk through the forest, climbing over fallen trees and brushing countless ferns and branches out of her way, not to mention carrying her boomerang every step of the way.

Mounted on her back was a large boomerang with three elaborately designed and sharp edges, made from carved wood and held together with steel straps. In a way the weapon was elegant and suited Zarenda very nicely. She could still remember when she showed off the weapon which she'd crafted by herself to the seniors of the academy almost a whole generation ago. They were so terribly impressed, it may be the only time she ever felt truly humble, proud of herself enough to simply accept their praise and be driven to work even harder in the future. But what was so magical about the boomerang was in fact little to do with the weapon itself, and more everything to do with how she used it. In a similar fashion to how Phantom used his cards in fact, Zarenda could cast spells to be carried by the boomerang. In doing this she could weave various combinations of spells together across the boomerangs three edges, and then launch the spells together with kinetic force, not only was it an impressive feat, but it opened to the academy the idea that magic and science could be used in conjunction with one and other to yield incredible results. Out of respect, no other mages encroached on her brilliant craftsmanship, and allowed her to be the only mage wielding a triple edged boomerang, as a sort of signature, which made her feel very proud to say the least.

Zarenda felt the mental strain start to catch up on her as she'd been casting small spells all day to track the flow of Phantom's essence. Chanting little incantations over and over to keep herself from needing to reopen the source of her magic power if she could help it, as that would be even more costly to her mental focus. The essence left by Phantom was sadly not at all like a trail one could just follow, which would have been the case if she were tracking any regular person. Unfortunately all evidence seemed to suggest her suspicions about Phantom being a demon was right. The essence she kept on finding constantly kept trying to pull her north-west, out of the forest. She understood that relative to her location geographically, Fentonhel was north-west of her, which unless Phantom weren't a demon, but just so happened to be spending time there anyway (which would be highly unlikely), means he absolutely was a demon, and his essence was shared with a number of other demons he was born with, all of whom currently resided within Fentonhel. And that also means that Zarenda and the rest of the academy would be well justified in being highly alarmed at some unforeseen impending doom at this current moment in time. Occasionally a rare thing would happen and a demon would be born a single child and get to have a soul all to them self, that would have been wonderful if this were the case for Phantom, however in his case, Zarenda estimated there may have been as many as nine in his brood.

The trail of essence she followed pulled on her mind in the wrong direction all day, it felt like ignoring an annoying distraction, she needed to concentrate hard to accurately follow the blemishes of Phantom's ninth of a soul, sometimes only being able to see the faintest outline of it. The sky grew orange and pink as the sun slowly came to rest on the edge of the horizon, barely visible now through the trees, when her focus finally gave out and she closed her eyes, the weight on her brows was worth stopping for, but not a moment later she was given cause to start concentrating again. She heard the sound of a monster roaring and trees being pushed over. Her eyes flashed opened and she dismounted the boomerang from her back as quick as she could, she felt the soles of her feet get hot, and without speaking cast a spell of seeing in the direction of the noise. She trembled right on the spot and felt a shiver down her whole body. It was a Behemoth, a class of monster so terrifyingly large and ferocious that not even academy seniors fought them if they could help it. Run, hide, or fight? Zarenda felt her legs freeze in place, she was all ready so tired from the long day of hiking and channeling her magic power, the spell of seeing retained it's place in front of her for a moment longer, enough to see the Behemoth start charging in her direction. Still a distance away she barely even noticed the beast was all ready somehow covered in blood.

She quickly looked around, surely the monster would smell her if she tried to hide. With a shaky hand she pulled her boomerang in front of her and in a panic began chanting magic words. With her free hand, as steadily as she could she channeled the spell she was casting into one of the three edges of her weapon.
"Be cast unseen, reflective light, embrace shadow, out of sight!" a spell of invisibility she thought couldn't possibly hurt. And as she hurriedly coated the edge in her spell she then gave the boomerang a spin, and without her needing to hold it, it spun stoically in the air just in front of her. The three edges spun quickly, certainly much faster than you could track with your eyes. Her eyes were widened and now with both hands she held them out in front of her, another roar echoed from in front of her, she tried to ignore it and began casting another spell. She shut her eyes and carefully spoke.
"Up not backwards, down left right, turn around not forward, stay where you are!" Her sharp eyes flashed open wide and the boomerang held still for a moment as she coated a second edge in her spell, a spell of confusion. "Is this enough?" she wondered. A moment of pause and she stared forward with a grim expression, any second now the behemoth would come raging through the trees in front of her, this could be her end if she wasn't careful. She lifted her arms once more and the boomerang began spinning in turn, one more quick second of thought and she began.
"Bursting clouds, dark and dreary, I summon rain!" And once again, the boomerang held still for her to layer what was obviously a spell for summoning rain onto the last remaining edge, and it then sat there perfectly still in midair with a warm glow about it, as though it were waiting to be taken in hand and thrown with purpose. Zarenda wrapped a hand around it's mid section where the three edges were conjoined, and reeled back. She panted, exhausted from yet more spell casting, and shifted her weight on one leg she stepped backward with to give herself more room. The echoes of loud roars became less like echoes and suddenly felt more like they were on top of her, she made a great heaving noise as she swung her arm forward and loosed the boomerang with as much strength as she could muster. With a loud crackling sound the boomerang whirred through the air, first amidst the trees until it quickly made it's way above them working it's way around, creating a perimeter around it's owner. The three spells visibly pulsated from the edges of her weapon and seemed to dance together with one and other, hot white, gold, and dazzling bright blue like lightning were merging together in the air as clouds high above began to swell all of a sudden and move in. Rain began to fall, slowly at first when by the time the boomerang had traveled a full circle around Zarenda, suddenly the air felt thicker, or was it thinner? The confusion spell had taken it's effect, and the rain started to cascade upon the forest floor now with greater force as a rumble of thunder rolled through the sky. The boomerang tilted in the air and altered it's own trajectory as though obediently returning to it's master. Whether this was a magical property of the boomerang itself, or if Zarenda simply knew just how to throw it, was for her to know and everyone else to marvel at. She extended her arm to catch it on it's return when the trees before her suddenly flew apart as the behemoth roared and finally charged it's way before her.

It ran on all fours and was covered in matted looking hair, it's sharp teeth were enormous, not to mention it's mouth, which dribbled saliva and a stench strong enough to knock a lesser mage out on the spot. It's whole body was covered in blood and wounds which stunk almost as bad, it's eyes were filled with redness and rage, what had put this creature in such a state?. Zarenda almost forgot to finish casting her spells, terrified at the giant monster that had burst through the trees only a moment sooner than she wanted for it to. The boomerang whirred loudly and came to Zarenda's waiting palm with a clean clapping sound. As she grasped it, her form along with the boomerang both disappeared from sight, with not so much as a pop. The invisibility spell worked flawlessly. Leaves kicked up from the ground with a splutter of rain drops flying everywhere, bounding off of Zarendas invisible form, which had taken to running as fast as she could to the nearest hiding spot. The Behemoth in fact came to a halt, and it's roaring ceased almost immediately. Amidst the heavy downpour of rain, there was also the haze of confusion laced through the air, not to mention that what the beast had just seen was in itself very confusing as well. If Zarenda would have had the nerve to look behind her she would have surely laughed at the stupid thing's expression, utterly dazed as if it didn't know what trees were. It took a step backward and looked hastily at it's surroundings, then forward and then decided to turned around slowly as if to make sure it had come from the way it just came, her spell was working better than she'd hoped. Now all she needed was for it to walk away and leave her alone. She'd have to walk a fair distance to find a suitable place to setup camp now out of the wet weather, but it was a small price to pay for keeping her life she thought.

She'd hidden herself behind a nearby log, where she felt the rain wouldn't give her position away too easily, and she took position to observe the Behemoth in case she would need to act again. Then she immediately felt sick, through the trees and the rain, she saw the figure of a man walking, and very casually at that. She felt her heart miss a beat when she finally realized what the behemoth had been running from. Slowly and in no particular hurry, the figure grew closer and more recognizable, carrying over his shoulder what looked to be a large sword with a curved edge and an elaborate and frightfully designed guard. He was dressed all in black, his right sleeve swept well over his wrist and draped his forearm like a short curtain and worked down his body from the shoulder as a robe that skirted all the way around his legs with plenty of room to move, but from his right shoulder down his muscular chest and torso was exposed, save for some black linen that wrapped around his midriff. It looked as though the missing sleeve was tattered and torn and was simply left unused tailing him almost like a cape. He wore what looked like fur over his right leg and his boots looked to be very close fitting but well worn too. His eyes were dark, and barely visible past his long silver hair which was the last clue Zarenda needed to figuring out just who she was looking at, of all the worst luck, she'd stumbled upon the Blood Sword.

The Blood Sword, to most who lived in Finito was an unknown threat that roamed the land. Wandering with seemingly no sense of direction or inherent purpose, he was known only for being not known, and leaving a trail of destruction where ever he traveled. Zarenda could remember stories she'd heard growing up about a man in black, a man who killed innocent people, and destroyed entire towns for the mere sake of doing it. Stories that were always backed up by the evidence of towns being razed to the ground left in ash and soot. Zarenda herself had been lucky enough up until now to have never encountered him, but now she knelt upon the rain soaked leaves behind the log, completely frozen. For all of her spells and expertise, she couldn't help but feel an impending sense of doom come over her like a cloud of dread. So many stories she'd heard, and not one painted the stranger walking toward her location as anything but cruel and dangerous. Many great heroes and proficient warriors had been erased from the land of the living by this vicious man in black, some were said to have been disposed of quickly, and others were unfortunate enough to have left painfully. She closed her eyes and held hear breath, "What am I going to do?" she begged of herself, "Please I can't die yet!"
"It's about time you gave up this nonsense game of hide-and-seek, don't you think?" sneered the mocking voice of the stranger. Zarenda almost screamed in that moment, for her fear was so great she'd nearly forgotten that he was most likely speaking to the behemoth. She hoped her spells would keep him from finding her, or she would surely perish, for no story she'd heard ever mentioned him sparing anyone he could reach within a sword's length.

"Face me finally foul creature, whose entire existence was for the mere sake of my own blood lust and entertainment," he smirked "Face me now, and you shall be granted a most spectacular death I promise, it would be the likes of which few could stomach to watch." The Behemoth snarled and roared loudly, turning it's back to Zarenda to face the swordsman, clearly still confused by the spell she'd cast just a moment ago. The man glared at the beast with a twisted look in his eyes as his mouth contorted into a strange smile you might describe almost as a look of excitement. Sticks and leaves crunched under his boots loudly as the howl of wind and rain blew through his hair, when he suddenly took his first steps inside of the magical perimeter Zarenda had laid out using her boomerang. Zarenda held her breath again and clasped her hand over her mouth and nose to hide as much noise as she could as the man stopped suddenly. She cursed herself for overthinking how to escape the behemoth now, the magic in the air was sure to give her presence away, she couldn't help but shake back and forth, now stricken with indescribable fear. The man furrowed his brow for a moment and looked from side to side as his smile turned to a frown. He sniffed the air to no avail, all he could smell was the wet soil beneath him, but he shut his eyes firmly for just a short moment and did something rather strange. He nodded slowly as though agreeing with something someone had told him, and then his eyes flashed open once more, grinning wickedly and he laughed. It was a long and loud sort of laughter, full of triumph and amusement. That was when Zarenda stopped shaking and focused her gaze. The moment had passed and her fear was starting to shrink, her inquisitiveness was beginning to take over.

The behemoth pressed it's head back into it's shoulders, still snarling and making noise trying to threaten the man, clearly terrified itself. Zarenda peered over the log she'd been hiding behind and that's when she noticed the large gash in the creatures side, like it had been sliced open, blood poured from the wound and it limped on it's back leg as well. Just what had happened to the monster exactly? Zarenda's eyes scoured every inch of the beasts body as quickly as she could, taking in the sight of it, assessing the damage. While the mysterious man cackled with laughter though only briefly, she successfully (to her own assumption) had assessed every article of damage across the creatures body. She noted the large gash along it's left rib cage, the limping left hind leg with a moderately sized stab wound right through it's foot. She also noted the blood spilling from it's mouth, and that was likely from the three missing teeth (that she could count) which looked to have been ripped right from it's mouth, two of those teeth being fangs. Various burn marks were visible, and finally it was missing the last quarter of it's tail. Though she'd fled in fear and originally had thought the beast to be a menace, she couldn't help but take a moment and realize how much she pitied it now. She empathized with it, a wild beast though it was, it still felt as she did, afraid, and desperate for it's life. The man pulled his sword from off his shoulder and widened his stance, he hung the back end of his sword in to his open palm and stared vindictively at the creature. It almost looked as though he was offering the behemoth to come and slit it's own throat on the waiting sharp end of the blade.
"It seems the magic in the air is what has halted your retreat, could it be you still have yet to resign yourself to your fate, though cruel it is I know, I'm above caring as well." The man poised himself. "I give you this last and most generous offer, beast. Come before me now, and accept your death with dignity and grace. Resist me further and you shall be made an example of to all who resist me." The man paused and glanced behind himself briefly. "He understands me just fine, it is not in my nature after all to waste my words on those upon which they are lost." Zarenda cocked her head to the side and looked around to see who he was talking to, but there was no one there, through the rain and trees there was no conceivable way he could be talking to anyone else but the behemoth, unless...

She didn't know why she felt the need to find out, if asked, it's likely she would never be able to tell you why she would risk being seen by this dangerous man, but her curiosity grew ever stronger by the moment and she just had to figure things out. As quietly as she could, she began muttering words quietly, an incantation under her breath and quickly too. She closed her eyes and held her hands out to face the mysterious man in black. Magical words danced off of her tongue and she felt the magic forming around her when she opened her eyes with a start to the mans voice.
"You haven't fled yet, so I will take this as your surrender." The man gave the beast a final stare. He lowered the sword and walked calmly to it's quivering muzzle where he then placed his hand gently upon it's nose. The behemoth was shaking and so deprived of spirit now it could not even make noise to try and fend him off, it were as though it really did understand what he had been saying. Zarenda couldn't bear to watch and felt more frightened still as he'd had to move closer to her with this advancement. She closed her eyes again and composed herself as much as she could while she finished casting her spell. The behemoth suddenly trembled, the mans sword glided under it's large and thick throat slowly, blood trickled down it's fur as it made a noise that made it obvious it was choking on it's own blood. If at no other time, the man now truly looked like the Blood Sword the stories had told of. His blade was completely coated in the red colouring of the monster's insides, and with his hand still pressed against the creature's nose, and his twisted expression glaring into it's dying eyes, he loosed the blade from it's jugular and grinned gratifyingly to watch the beast fall from his grip around it's nose as it's lower jaw hit the rain soaked ground with a loud tree shaking thump. The behemoth lay still, eyes glazed over and silent, he'd killed it.