Chương 35: Ink and Blood

Anadis ground his teeth, his remaining hand tight around the Curved Sword. He was furious—genuinely aghast that this lout had the audacity to sweet-talk Aelia. He'd seen it the moment the bastard smiled at her during registration, a cheap playboy worming his way into her heart. How dare he flirt with his sister? She was so far out of his league in every aspect that it was almost humorous… No. Definitely not funny after seeing how this scrawny zombie bastard had the nerve to drag her into a Grull-infested forest.

"Listen, I'll take care of the big one." The tall pretender cleared his throat as he met Anadis's eyes for half a second.

"You two kill the other three." He gave Anadis a nod and turned to face the bigger Grull. Oh! I'm going to hurt this bastard. The audacity, putting his sister in danger, then turning around and leaving her just to save his own skin. Anadis scowled at him and opened his mouth— Then the wolves growled. Anadis bristled. Fine. They'd settle this after he finished with the wolves.

"A-Anadis," Aelia said in a trembling voice.

"Y-your arm." One Grull sliced at Anadis from behind. He ducked, but dark claws still tore through his tunic and drew a bit of blood. The sudden movement yanked at his bandaged stump, sending a sharp jolt of pain that made his teeth clench. He drove his heel into the wolf's ribs, sending it skidding sideways. Then he closed the distance to Aelia in three uneven strides, positioning himself between her and the nearest pair of glowing eyes.

"That big one over there took my arm," he said, glancing at the bigger wolf, then at his left arm—or rather, the stump that remained—and looking at her over his shoulder.

"But how?" He shook his head.

"Never mind that. Can you stand up?" Anadis asked, wincing at the cut on his back.

"I would offer a hand, but you know." Aelia, seeing his blood, shook off her bewilderment and got to her feet.

"How did this even happen? Why did you come here alone instead of with Father and Albus?"

"You know, I could ask the same of you," he retorted. Her cheeks flushed at that. Then again, it was that damn tall zombie bastard who had contaminated her unadulterated little head. I'll have to teach her how to spot bad guys and not fall for their tricks. But before that, he needed to deal with the wolves and protect her at the same time. He swung at the closest one to his left but struck air as another marched behind him. He leaped into a backflip to evade, but stumbled on the landing.

Even something as simple as that cost him. He hadn't expected losing one arm would throw off his balance this badly. And the pain… of course. He had lost too much blood, and even with the potion he'd taken, his body was in constant drainage from actively trying to close the wound.

"Godsdamn it," he cursed as he saw the other Grull already heading toward Aelia. He intersected it just in time, the Abominant's ear flying through the air as he sliced it off. He wanted to split the Grull's skull in half, but damn if having only one arm didn't make him lose balance. There were also too many of them, and having to protect Aelia was not helping.

"I can't do this alone," he told Aelia, catching his breath as he positioned himself next to her once more.

"Can you help me?" She hesitated.

"I don't think I can do much," she said, hesitation clear in the trembling of her defeated tone.

"I'll just be in your way."

"No, you won't!" Anadis shouted as he sliced at the air as one of the wolves evaded his attack the rest carefully surrounding him.

"You have a yellow core—""And what exactly am I meant to do with it?" she retorted in a very unlike-Aelia shout. She swallowed, then shouted again.

"A yellow core doesn't equal competence!"

"Just draw," he said calmly.

"You can bring your imagination to life. Do what you do best! Draw." She blinked, looking at him, mouth slightly unhinged. One wolf leaped at her, growls echoing through the slope. Anadis swung his sword, and it backed away. This was futile. He needed help, or at least to make sure Aelia was protected somehow.

"Use your imprint." Hel's voice cut in as she popped into existence next to him. She had been quiet since they escaped the cave.

"You neglected to tell me what it does, but an imprint is born from a soul. It should be able to help." Hel was right—the imprint could help. But just how could he summon it? Was it the same as a Boon? Anadis focused intently on the imprint's name, keeping watchful eyes on the Grulls. Your wish to use [Imprint: Aldor the Breathless] has been granted. The Divine Voice thundered through his mind, and as it did, his skin began to glow faintly blue—no, it sparkled.

The wolves backed up a step, hackles raised, as the shimmering light flew from him into the air and clumped together, molding into a shape. Anadis watched as the wooden figure finished forming. The hair on the back of his neck stood upright. It was exactly as the imprint's description had said: a man—well, a wooden man—draped in torn traveler's clothes.

His face was concealed beneath a weathered hood, but Anadis could still tell how similar it was to the man in the vision, as if the hands of a god had carved the wooden sculpture. Aldor the Breathless. If he recalled correctly, the imprint's description had explained how the imprint would put itself in danger for those it cared about. The imprint would rather be destroyed than let a single hit pass it. So, does that mean it'll protect those I care about? Since it can't really think… can it?

Abruptly, Aldor the Breathless moved. All its limbs shook as if a spirit had taken possession of the wooden body. In a blur, Aelia's frame disappeared as the six-foot figure positioned itself in front of her and crossed its arms in a defensive stance.

"Anadis, just what is this?" Aelia asked, eyes wide as she backed away from the imprint.

"It's an imprint."

"A what?"

"Just trust me. It's there to protect you," he hesitated.

"I… think." The wolves' puzzlement vanished as they gathered near the imprint and Aelia. One lunged forward, sharp fangs bared, and sank them into the imprint's arm. Aelia took a step back, but the imprint remained unmoved, still as a monolith. Another wolf swerved around the imprint, heading straight for Aelia. Anadis's heart jumped into his throat, but Aldor—ever the Breathless—moved in an instant.

With the first wolf still clinging to its wooden arm, the imprint crashed its head into the attacking wolf, sending it flying toward Anadis. He dodged as the beast rolled across the ground with a whine, eating dirt. Anadis didn't waste the opportunity. Before the wolf could get up, he pierced its guts and drove the curved sword downward. Blood glistened over the steel as he did. What a triumph! You have defeated Abominant-Class Grull: Stranglefang.

"Alright, that's what I'm talking about," he grinned wickedly.

"Two more to go." The pack of wolves recoiled in a ripple of motion as they saw another comrade fall. Actually, they weren't a pack anymore—there were only two of them left. A headless one rested just at the crest of the slope, and a gutless one lay beside Anadis. Their growls, which sounded more like clicking, turned desperate and chaotic. Wolves, even Grulls, were pack hunters, built to overwhelm prey with numbers, not to fight alone and without an alpha.

Anadis stepped forward, emboldened by his sister's protection. He charged toward the Abominants, his grip on the Curved Sword steely and sure. ❧❧ ⫷ ❁ ⫸ ❧❧ Aelia did nothing. She watched as her brother Anadis fought against two Grulls. There had been four at first. Two were already dispatched by his blade alone, all while protecting her. She did nothing. She was nothing more than baggage holding him down.

Before her stood a wooden figure, solid beneath the tattered rags that clung to it; it was there to protect her, her brother had said. But who would protect him? This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. A yellow core… she was the one the gods had deemed special. He only had a black core, yet there he was—no fear on his face while facing such Abominants, and while missing an arm.

Aelia almost laughed at the irony, were it not for the sight of Anadis still fighting before her. Talentless. She truly was a shameless, talentless fool. Her little brother… she should be the one risking her life for him, not the other way around. Out of the corner of her eye, Sevran drew closer, huffing heavily with Gusty padding weakly behind him.

Aelia was about to sigh in relief, comforted by their survival, but then she saw how a chunk of Sevran's shoulder had been literally torn off, blood soaking his entire armor. How is he even standing after such a wound!? Sevran kneeled before her—no, before the imprint. His face was swollen, tears cutting clean tracks through the blood on his face.

"D…Dad," he cried, hugging the legs of the wooden imprint.

"Sevran?" Aelia's brow furrowed. Was the blood loss making him hallucinate?

"You've lost a great deal of blood. Are you alright? That isn't your father." Blood sprayed the ground as Brother Anadis swiftly flicked his blade clean after pulling it from the last Grull's torso. He drew near, footsteps heavy, his breathing even heavier.

"You bastard, get away from my imprint—and more importantly, my sister," he growled, his bandaged arm crimson with blood. Anadis put a hand on Sevran's good shoulder and pulled him away, placing himself between the imprint and him.

"Why are you crying? Typical. See, Aelia? You shouldn't let smooth talkers like this one muddle your thoughts. They're all just crybabies." Aelia frowned. What was her brother even spewing? Sevran stood up, his face etched with a depressed expression as he grabbed Anadis by the collar, pulling him face to face.

"How did you make this sculpture?" Sevran asked, his voice breaking but absolute.

"Just how did you know him?" Anadis didn't respond. Instead, he pushed Sevran away.

"Don't grab me like that, zombie bastard."

"Zombie?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. This is my imprint," Anadis explained.

"Now you should definitely pay for what you did to Aelia, so square up."

"Anadis, he didn't do anything to me. Just what do you think happened?" Aelia cut in.

"It's okay, Aelia. His sweet talk clearly worked on you. I'll ask Nora to have a chat with you. You need to learn how not to fall for guys who are obviously trying to take advantage of you." Aelia blushed, baffled by her little brother's made-up conclusion.

"Hey!" Sevran shouted.

"Tell me why you have this sculpture? This thing that looks so much like him." But Anadis ignored him. He walked over to one of the wolves' corpses and cut into it until he found a scarlet Grullshard inside.

"Listen, even though the big one took my arm, I'll let you keep its Grullshard since you killed it and all. But Aelia and I get these four. And I'm too tired to deal with you right now, so just leave me alone." Sevran stomped the ground, angry at Anadis's dismissal. Gusty yawned, letting out a soft huff of air, then settled his head on his paws next to Aelia. She slumped down beside him, more exhausted than she had any right to be.""

I'm glad no one died," she whispered to Gusty, running a hand over his fluffy fur, which was now slick with Grull's blood. Gusty purred, almost like a cat. Aelia watched the two boys bicker for another minute.

"Anadis did lose an arm, however." She stroked the fox's head, ears folding under her touch.

"I'm not entirely certain how I'm meant to explain that to my parents." Suddenly, the fox stopped purring. His ears perked up, hackles raised. His tiny body went rigid beneath her hand, every muscle pulling tight at once. A frightened bark escaped him. Then, a rotten and disgusting smell hit her nose, guiding her gaze. At a distance, a dark silhouette approached, zigzagging through the trees like a blur of darkness beneath stars.

"What's that?!" Sevran bellowed. Aelia had painted monsters before. Strange creatures from old books, things with too many teeth or too many eyes. She had always thought she could imagine anything. She had been wrong. It stood upright on two legs, skin mottled and reeking of rot. Spines jutted from its back like broken branches. Its head was a skull wearing a face poorly. But none of that was what made her breath stop. There was a hole in its chest where a heart should have been—a black swirling void.

Light bent toward it and disappeared as though the monster didn't hunger for flesh, but the world itself.

"It's an Unhallowed," Anadis grunted as the creature stopped tilting its skull, as if appraising them.

"I saw it earlier today… just our luck." Aelia didn't know much about the ranks of Grulls; she had never paid much attention to that topic, but even in her ignorance, her brother's next words resonated darkly with her.

"I read that no fewer than five Blessens are required to face a single Unhallowed, and even then, survival is not assured." Her breath caught. There were only three of them, and both Sevran and Anadis were already depleted. She shouldn't even count. Both boys immediately went on the offensive against the Grull. Sevran unleashed a barrage of arrows. Most struck skin, but they barely dug into the sickly beast, and their shafts seemed to decay into its flesh.

Aelia clamped her palms over her ears as the Unhallowed let out a damnable shriek that split the air, the sound nearly shattering her eardrums. Her little brother charged head-on, swinging his sword at one of its legs. The blade slashed deep, but it didn't slow the creature. The Unhallowed batted him away with a powerful kick to the chest. Anadis coughed up blood as he crashed back-first into a boulder, unable to stand.

"Anadis!" Aelia shouted desperately, then turned to the wooden figure.

"Go protect him! I'm fine!" It didn't move, as if deaf to her words.

"Move you rotten thing!" Gusty charged, blasting air at the Grull, but it did nothing except draw its full attention. The Grull twisted sharply and struck Gusty square in the ribs. The little fox flew through the air and crashed into a tree, dropping limply to the ground.

"Gusty!" Sevran unsheathed his dagger and began brutally hacking at the beast's arm. For a moment, it looked like he was doing something, but then the Grull clutched him with its other arm and spun him like a wet rag, smashing him into a tree. Sevran's eyes rolled back, white and empty.

"No—" The word tore from her throat. As she watched her brother and both her friends fall unconscious, she wept, her knees buckling under the insurmountable pressure of the Unhallowed coming for her. What was she supposed to do? Die? Watch them die?

"Run…" The weak sound came from her brother, who was barely holding on to consciousness.

"As long as I'm alive, that imprint will protect you… Run." As the word settled, Aelia fought the fear welling up in her chest. She staggered to her feet. Whispering Stroke gracefully materializing in her grip. As the seven-foot-tall Unhallowed drew closer, she echoed her brother's command—not run, but draw. Draw. Draw. Draw. She was a painter. That was what she had been born for. So much so that the gods had bestowed upon her the power to draw things into reality, into life.

But what could she paint that could actually hurt the Grull? A loud thud rang out as the wooden imprint staggered, splinters flying as it blocked the Unhallowed's gnarled claws. Defend. She needed to protect them. Taking a deep breath, she struck Whispering Stroke through the air, the same way she would sweep a paintbrush across a canvas, making her imagination come to life. A multilayer barrier of thick stone, much like the battlements of a castle, formed in front of her.

The Grull seemed baffled for a moment, but then it thrashed wildly and smashed through them with ease. That was expected, yet Aelia continued drawing, painting, creating more and more walls. What she painted came to life, but only temporarily. She came to the realization that a rough sketch would produce a weak, unstable creation, like the walls she had been drawing. A precise, detailed drawing, on the other hand, would create something much stronger, tangible, and closer to the real thing.

She couldn't just rush it and hope for quality results. But the Unhallowed didn't, and wouldn't, give her time to be precise. Her arm already burned. She had lost count of how many walls she had drawn—ten, twenty, she didn't know. Each one bought her three seconds, maybe four, before the Unhallowed's fist reduced them to ink. Aelia was already drawing the next before the one before it fell, retreating one stumbling step at a time, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

Her Blessing and her Boon allowed her to move her wrist tenfold faster. One wall in front of her, then a quick stroke to her right—the world was her canvas. She kept repeating the motion until she produced three rough wolves, imitations of the Abominant her brother had fought. They were nowhere near as potent as the real thing, but they managed to attract the creature's attention. The ink wolves lunged at the Unhallowed. Of course, it took the wretched Grull no more than twenty seconds to tear them apart.

Couldn't they at least last a minute? However, the badly drawn wolves gave her just enough time to sketch a human—well, more a rough likeness of the imprint protecting her. It slipped past the Grull toward her brother, picked him up, and slung him over one shoulder and ran. Loud stomps reverberated across the ground as the Grull sprinted toward her new creation. Two bouncing black orbs materialized in her hand. She threw them straight at where the Unhallowed's leg would land.

They caught like a bee in a spider's nest—an inky, sticky black substance ensnared its limbs. The beast swayed and slammed head-first into the forest floor. Aelia smiled. Sticky Ink Orbs, the rare Boon she'd received during the Blessed Trial and never got to use. Still, she didn't stop. Her wrist was sore. Blood trickled from her nose. Her vision blurred. But she needed to keep drawing, no matter the repercussions. To her right, her creation curved toward Sevran, stooped down, and lifted him.

A couple more strokes were needed here and there. As an artist, the details mattered—she needed the proportions right, the perfect blend of hues. She poured every bit of her Divine essence into this creation, this last masterpiece. Her last hope for survival. The Grull snarled, swiping at the inky walls, one after another, wild, mindless. It was furious. She could feel it in the way the air trembled.

Her breath came in shallow gasps as the Unhallowed drew closer, its massive shadow swallowing the light of dusk, the space, the very air around her. Only three walls were standing, which meant she still had nine seconds at least. No… the Grull was so furious it was destroying them even faster. She needed more time. She needed to concentrate on— The last wall fell. A sickly bony hand shot toward her neck.

The imprint intercepted it, but the Grull clutched its wooden neck, lifted the figure, and drove a mottled fist into its torso. The imprint dispersed into a million sparkling specks of light that traveled back to her brother's body. Aelia didn't move. She didn't look up. She concentrated only on her creation. A wringing grip around her neck made her cough blood. Her feet lifted off the ground. She couldn't breathe. This monster could literally snap her neck with a flick of its wrist. She still painted.

The Grull roared, its slack jaw flooding her face with the reek of decay as it pulled her closer. She still painted. One last stroke. That was all she needed. She felt the Unhallowed's grip digging into her neck, squishing her windpipe, but before it could end her, a muscular fist slammed into the Grull's decaying stomach. Air rushed back into her lungs as the beast unwrapped its grip from her neck. She dropped to the ground, gasping, barely holding onto consciousness.

A weak laugh escaped her when she saw her creation—her masterpiece. A man six and a half feet tall, almost as tall as the Grull itself. Broad shoulders, long blond hair billowing in the chilly night air. Hadrian Kalonis. She had drawn Father, the most powerful man she had ever known.

"Defeat that thing," she commanded with a hoarse voice, gesturing with a trembling finger. Then she gathered what little strength she had left, stood up, and ran. She ordered her other creation, the imprint's lookalike that was still carrying Anadis and Sevran, to follow her. On the way, she scooped up Gusty and checked for breathing. Good. He was still alive. Her creation kept pace beside her as she ran, but every step felt like carrying a boulder on her back.

The strain of keeping both drawings alive was enormous, weighing at her as though gravity had doubled. Still, for them, she needed to be strong—just as they had been for her. She knew her father's painting wouldn't be enough. Her real father was only a Blessen, and no matter how much divine essence and blood she poured into the drawing, it could never come close to the real thing. Still, if it could just hold for a couple of minutes— The ground shook as something huge landed in front of her. The Unhallowed.

"You cannot be serious…" She looked back. Her masterpiece had been reduced to splashes of ink against a tree. It hadn't even lasted a full minute. Aelia's knees buckled. The painted sketch carrying the boys melted into the ground, dropping them limply as she lost the strength to keep her creation alive.

"I did all I could…" she whispered.

"I'm sorry."