AmethYst

Chapter Fifteen

Crimson conjured a gleaming sword, its blade catching the light, and dashed toward Junkie. Junkie sneered, leaning closer as he hissed, "Why do you even think you stand a chance?"

Crimson swung his sword in a brutal arc. Sparks flew as the blade scraped against Junkie's ice-armoured body, leaving only shallow marks. Unfazed, Junkie thrust a spiked, ice-covered fist at Crimson, forcing him to leap backwards. Without hesitation, Crimson surged forward and grappled Junkie by the waist, attempting to unbalance him.

Junkie barely budged. He raised his massive arms and slammed it down on Crimson's back with a sickening thud. Crimson hit the ground hard, gasping for air.

Kneeling, Junkie grabbed a handful of Crimson's hair and yanked his head up. "You look so pathetic," he mocked, his voice dripping with malice.

Crimson's sword clattered to the deck. His free hand shimmered, conjuring brass knuckles that he slammed upward in a brutal uppercut. Junkie's grin vanished as the punch sent him flying backwards.

Crimson rose to his feet, chains materialising in his hands. He swung them with precision, and they coiled around Junkie's neck midair. With a fierce tug, Crimson pulled Junkie forward and summoned a ball mace, slamming it into the side of his foe's head. A sharp crack split the air as Junkie's ice armour fractured.

Junkie swayed, dazed, his movements unsteady.

"So much for being impenetrable," Crimson quipped with a chuckle. "Guess you're just pretending to be tough."

Junkie growled, his icy breath curling like smoke in the air. "I have had it with you, Crimson," he spat. "I'll end you—and your pathetic friends—for what you did to my brother!"

"Well if you do that, I guess I would not be paying you." Crimson shot back.

Junkie roared, his icy aura intensifying as frost crept along the chains around his neck. With a powerful snap, he shattered them. He raised a spear formed from the mist swirling around him and hurled it with deadly accuracy.

Crimson narrowly dodged, the spear grazing his cheek as he twisted to the left. Blood beaded along the fresh cut. I need to think fast, he thought, flipping backwards to the ship's edge. His eyes darted below.

I hope they're okay, he murmured under his breath.

"They're not," Junkie gloated. "By now, my brother's wiped them out."

Crimson smirked. "That so?"

Junkie lunged forward, but Crimson vaulted over him in a graceful arc. Landing perfectly, he gripped the mace with both hands and rushed forward, slamming it into Junkie's chest with bone-crushing force.

Junkie doubled over, blood splattering from his mouth.

"Night-night," Crimson quipped, stepping back before launching into a spinning double kick. His boots connected with Junkie's face, sending him sprawling. The ice armour encasing his body cracked and began to melt as Junkie tumbled off the ship and into the forest below.

Breathing heavily, Crimson stood at the edge, his shoulders rising and falling. "Finally," he muttered, watching Junkie plummet to his death.

Lilith crawled over to Miles, her trembling hand finding his. "It's going to be okay," she whispered fervently, her voice a soothing balm amidst the chaos. "You had to do it. If you hadn't, then I wouldn't be here."

"How can you say that?" Miles challenged, uncertainty gnawing at him. "If we're to find Laurel, we're going to face horrors far worse than this. You're not supposed to be here in the first place!" Her words echoed in his mind, heavy with the weight of their dire circumstances.

With a determined resolve, Miles stood up, lifting Lilith along with him as she struggled to regain her footing. But as he looked down at her, shock pierced his heart. "You're bleeding a lot, Lilith. Aren't you an elf? Don't you have some healing magic or something?" he inquired, worry flooding his voice.

Lilith fixed him with a fierce glare. "Yes, I have healing and protection spells. Do you think those scars from the fall healed by themselves?" she snapped with irritation. The tension crackled between them, but there was no denying the truth in her words.

"Oh, sorry! I didn't mean to overlook that. Thank you, Lilith," Miles replied, guilt gnawing at him for not recognizing her abilities.

"No problem, but we can't move right now. I'm out of ma—" Before she could finish, her legs buckled beneath her, and she fell to the ground, unconscious.

"Lilith! Lilith!" Panic surged through Miles as he knelt beside her, his heart racing.

Suddenly, a deafening roar split the air as something fell from the sky, crashing into the forest with a thunderous boom. "What was that?" Miles thought, dread pooling in the pit of his stomach. "What if it's Junkie?"

He forced himself to push the fear aside, recalling Lilith's fierce resolve. With desperation fueling him, he scooped her unconscious form onto his back and sprinted toward the towering tree trunk where he had hidden. As he settled her there, he leaned down and whispered, "It's going to be okay. Crimson will come and save us, and we will find Laurel before Rigour's Legion does."

"Maybe," Miles muttered, doubt shadowing his words. But deep down, he knew they had to try—because the fate of Amethyst hung in the balance.