Deathly Phantasm

第3話 We’ll see about that

Lu Jiu stepped out of the blood-soaked cavern, his scythe dissolving into tendrils of black mist that coiled around his arm before fading entirely. The chill of the evening wind greeted him, carrying with it the scent of iron and charred flesh. His boots crunched against the rocky terrain, stained with gore.

Ahead, Mo Yan tilted his head lazily, his crimson cloak fluttering like an omen of violence. “Took your time,” he said, his voice dripping with mock impatience.

“Mining takes precision,” Lu Jiu replied, brushing a speck of dust off his sleeve as though the carnage moments before was no more significant than a passing rainstorm. “Besides, those fools barely qualified as a warm-up.”

Mo Yan’s smirk deepened, revealing a glint of sharp teeth. “Still, you could’ve let them scream a bit longer. Their fear was just getting delicious.”

Levi snorted from his perch atop a jagged boulder. His massive blade rested across his lap, its edge faintly glowing with residual heat. “Fear? Mo Yan, you act like they were worth noticing. I’ve stepped on bugs that struggled harder.”

Lu Jiu didn’t respond. His attention was already shifting, his eyes narrowing on the faint outline of a fortress in the distance, its towers clawing at the darkening sky. Its faint lights were barely visible, flickering like the embers of a dying fire.

“What’s the plan?” Levi asked, following Lu Jiu’s gaze. He cracked his knuckles, the sound echoing like the snapping of brittle bones. “Walk in and tear it apart, or make them come to us?”

Mo Yan chuckled, his voice like silk laced with venom. “Why not both? Let’s give them a reason to crawl out of their pathetic walls. Nothing entertains me more than watching prey run, thinking they have a chance.”

Lu Jiu stepped forward without a word, his pace steady but unrelenting, each step sending a ripple of tension through the air. The others fell in beside him, their movements as fluid as predators stalking the night.

The terrain grew steeper, jagged rocks jutting out like teeth, the remnants of ancient battles etched into the landscape. The faint sound of drums began to echo from the fortress, distant but unmistakable.

“They’ve noticed us,” Levi said, his grin widening. His grip tightened on his sword, the air around it shimmering with barely-contained heat.

“Let them,” Lu Jiu replied, his voice devoid of emotion. “It won’t make a difference.”

The drumming grew louder, accompanied by the clatter of armor and the guttural shouts of soldiers preparing for battle. The fortress gates creaked open, and a contingent of mounted knights emerged, their lances gleaming under the pale moonlight.

Mo Yan’s laughter rang out, sharp and mocking. “They’re sending cavalry? Against *us*? Oh, this is going to be good.”

Lu Jiu didn’t slow down. His eyes locked onto the approaching knights, calculating their formation, their movements, their weaknesses.

“Levi,” he said calmly, “handle the first wave.”

“With pleasure.” Levi leaped from the boulder, his massive frame hurtling toward the ground like a meteor. He landed with a resounding crash, the impact sending a shockwave through the earth. Before the dust settled, his blade was already in motion, slicing through the air with devastating force.

The first line of knights barely had time to react before they were obliterated, their bodies and mounts reduced to scorched remains in a single swing. The air filled with the acrid stench of burning flesh and molten metal.

The second line hesitated, their formation faltering. Mo Yan seized the opportunity, vanishing in a blur of crimson. When he reappeared, he was amidst the knights, his twin daggers flashing like serpents. Blood sprayed in arcs as he danced through their ranks, each strike precise and lethal.

Lu Jiu continued forward, unbothered by the chaos unfolding around him. His scythe reformed in his hand, its blade gleaming with a dark light that seemed to devour the moon's glow.

A single knight, braver—or more foolish—than the rest, charged directly at him, lance poised to strike. Lu Jiu didn’t break stride. With a flick of his wrist, his scythe cleaved through the knight and his horse in a single, effortless motion, their bisected forms collapsing to the ground in a wet heap.

“Keep them busy,” he said, his voice calm amidst the carnage. His eyes were fixed on the fortress gates, where a massive figure clad in ornate armor was emerging, a giant halberd resting on his shoulder.

Mo Yan glanced back, his face alight with sadistic glee. “Looks like the boss is here. Want me to take care of him?”

“No,” Lu Jiu replied, his grip on his scythe tightening. “This one’s mine.”

Without waiting for a response, he surged forward, the ground cracking beneath his feet as he closed the distance between himself and the armored figure. The air around his scythe crackled with necrotic energy, the shadows at his feet writhing like living things.

The armored figure raised his halberd, his voice booming like thunder. “Foul sorcerer! You’ll find no victory here!”

Lu Jiu’s lips curled into a faint smirk. “We’ll see about that.”