Mercy Lost

Alver, at this point began to grow annoyed since the battle took several parts of his time. Observing the field he saw that there was an clear advantage. Shari was tired at the verge of passing out, and Luth had just fled the grasps to doom—that also in a scathing state. This would end quick.

He smote, in a will to end this, at Luth. His blade flew through the air, swiftly propelled by his forces as he casted greater amount of energy in the strike to ensure the death completely. 

Threads extended out of his finger nails, creating a ripple around the soft wind, turning it to he will of their direction. He lifted his hands, a quick rise, making the strings propel upwards in a lucid motion; tangling Alver's body in a tight strangle. It compressed around his left arm and squeezed it in a rough hold, crushing his hands and fingers effectively. Bones cracked beneath the surface of the skin and a small part protruded even from the broken wrist.

"Y-you didn't have a Miero," he yelled, mixed with the expression of pain. "How, how?"

Compelled by the words, Luth walked forward coldly, with no clarity either on his face or in his stride. The nearer he came, the darkened his eyes grew, shrouded by the veil of else. Like a hound stuck in a sheep's skin, preying upon him, to sunder him to pieces for the mere requirement of his apatite. 

This encapsulated everything that would went down to Alver, his silence building up, stacking upon stacks of a tower of voiceless words that'd topple to shake him whole, from the heart to soul. 

There was a strange pulling Alver felt in his heart while watching Luth in his stride, like several strings snapping in an attempt to wrap around his core, hen breaking off to fill the depth of his; adding more weight in each passing movement, pulling him down in worry. He could make no anticipation, considering the current situation that went down right now, yet he knows hat there would be much more if he doesn't make a move.

"Al-ver." Luth spoke before the man had any time to move or react, emphasizing each word, and Alver paused his other thoughts to focus on him, "You have extraordinary strength, but you said yourself; Life is fragile, so is the body, I add. You are human, so am I. Both of us have bounds, and yet mine reach higher than yours. You are but a madman."

Line on line, Alver grew angrier, he wanted to rip him apart right then and their. The strings coiling him grew fainter as he ripped it off with sheer strength, and in recklessness launched the Dissector his way. 

"Ah, also the mind, quite egotistical." he said as the threads previously broken regenerated back to their states; and extended to crush his ankles. The blade missed his neck by an inch, throwing his back to sling him upon the hard wall. The sword loosened in his palm, slipping a bit but he still kept it there.

Luth turned his head towards the sky and laughed in abandon, with voice which took hold of the mind, twisting it like some sort of a great bane. Wringing his cords of the energy he stopped and placed his fingers down to his eye, pulling on the lower skin as he showed his eyeball to Alver.

"I am the Chaos of the Core," he continued, "born from the vilest part of it. Untamed, unmoving and heartless of all. You wish to overcome something that you have never had the pleasure of knowing, or I should rather say, you never will. Death comes too soon for some," Luth told, raising his fingers, both arms moving intricately to form a web-like structure out of the threads of Miero, "And too late for others."

He wrapped the web round his face, which began to crush his face under their pressure. Alver whelped and leaped with the Dissector in the last gambit he could come up with. He smote successfully and cracked his skull, open and wide, but the threads continued to tighten. Alver looked through the gap in the web to see the similar threads slipping around his head holding him in place, and in all this Luth only gave a merciless smile, lips completely curled to their edges, as far as they could.

Luth dropped a stone upon the edge of the Dissector, cracked by the all-cutting blade. His head got back to his previous state, healed now. 

Alver shouted, weather in pleading or anger was unclear to both of them as he grabbed the web around his face, trying to rip it off and get rid of it; though it went in vain, only getting worse overtime.

"Does it hurt?" Luth asked, filled with a tone of contempt, "I will do you a favor—though you will not be left with your tongue to thank me for it. Then, to the lower world, below, below."

The strings began to grow thinned, gaining sharpness by time, increasing the pressure. Alver's skull broke open, spilling into tiny fragment. Blood spilled like a broken fountains, soaking inside the white snow to turn the colour red. Parts of his brain seeped into the snow, sulking beneath the soft surface.

Luth kneeled down, reaching for the tongue which somehow remained intact in all the fury. Luth picked it up gently in his hand and flapped it playfully in front of the corpse.

"Why, it survived; but it seemed like there won't be much thanks from you."

He said as he groused without much of any other emotion before tossing the tongue onto the ground along with the corpse fallen on its knees.

Shari laid, growing restless by what he saw happen in front of him. This was not Luth, not at all, this was someone opposite, a visage of madness himself, this was the kind boy that Luth was. Shari tired to lift himself up to his feet, trying to ignore the pain and tiredness to oblige himself by either reluctance or will. 

Meanwhile, Luth in his hand weaved a string over-lapping several times upon itself to form a harb substance. He reached near Shari's feet when they both matched gazes, Luth stood silent for moments staring into them. 

Seeing Shari's bleeding shoulder, he began to regain the colour in his eyes, placing his hand upon his deltoid to prevent the blood, but from the expression of his, it seemed that the action took place unconsciously. 

The Dissector split open the ground upon itself, the spatial slit swallowing along with it every trace of Alver's body; even the bloodstained snow did not stay, disappearing in an instant.

Shari saw as everything went down into the ground, no proof of any combat, death, only their weary sates remained as a symbol of the fight. It was all so strange what was happening, around himself, around Luth. 

Snow-flakes swayed down, sinking upon the slowly; and the sky darkened, now not resembling the fair morning-sky at all, after all Mid-Winter was very extreme in its shifting of the climate, sudden and quick, slow and predictable. This unfortunately seemed like the one representing the earlier, placing them in a very sad predicament.

Two exhausted men could only handle much upon themselves. Luth fell to his knees, feeling the heaviness build in his head, clenching his senses by stresses. The swirling of the mind came to its halt when his head softly landed on the snow, turning his senses black.

Sounds of wheels grew louder by the time, from somewhere around the corner. Shari looked at the right side of the wall, and beyond it a luxurious carriage driving into their direction and resonated with the small chime placed on its top in front of the driver. His muscles grew more relaxed as the carriage come in sight and halted in front of both of them.

The carriage door opened with a small creak; and a heel stepped its foot on the ground. Shari stared in silence as the figure closed in further till it was near, only a head-length distant from Luth and him. Shari looked up and—in a long time, or that had become his perception during the while—smiled.

*****

On the corner of a cliff, clustered with snow, the sky raged and thundered with mighty fury; frost passed down onwards the ground, like a blanket, the flower-bed of silver and in front of it the raging view of the hated Zion within the man's eyes His shoulders were pressed down by the snow around, his head secured by his dark cloak comfortably, his breath was calm, almost noiseless within the profound silence.

He extended his arm, reaching out of his cloak to grab the Dissector out of the ground, lifting it to the level of his head,

"Dissector? Such a terrible name he gave you."

he spoke to it, as if it had a mind to reply, but the silence went on. The dark-clad man drifting the tip towards Zion spoke, to himself this time.

"But I believe I have found an interesting specimen."