Chapter Four
Chul-Moo grunted as he picked the bones of the cow’s leg for any last remaining scraps of meat, and satisfied he had picked it clean, tossed the bony remains aside. They had long since arrived at the meeting point; a small clearing amidst the long grasslands, host to some form of small lake. His blade at his side faintly glistening from the thin slither of the moon, providing the faintest glimmer of light in the pitch black night, obscured by the overbearing dark clouds in the sky. Gazing about his surroundings he caught a glimpse of various other demons, evidently here for the same purpose. He looked about for Kwan, and catching the faint shadow of a creature with a large object – possibly a cow leg? – began to make his way across the clearing. Gripping his hard shoulder he made out to speak, when suddenly the sound of an explosion in the distance caught his attention. Spinning around, he looked up into the sky at the continual stream of fiery explosions, a variety of colours fizzing out into nothingness. All of a sudden a particularly loud explosion in the sky resonated around the midnight air, the blinding light emitted disorientating him, and dazed he glanced around at his surroundings, briefly made as bright as day.
Hidden by the long blades of grass, they numbered in their hundreds – Chul-Moo had never witnessed such a large gathering of clans, some of which he recognised, but more he did not. It appeared that Haneul had not simply convinced – most likely the women he thought begrudgingly, of – their neighbouring clans, but also those from clans distant to their own, and it was not just the males present either, women and children alike had arrived to join the effort. Two young males had locked horns with one another, one showing the gentle trickle of blood from his temple where he had evidently been struck, but now appeared to be gaining the upper hand in their blood sport; it was for reasons such as this that such gatherings never occurred, the inevitability of friction resulting in violence could be easily avoided. In the distant horizon, towards the origins of the sky-fire the faintest bright spot could be seen; a tower lit up brighter than the rest of the horizon, and even as the light faded back down into the black of the night, this small spot on the horizon remained stationary in the night sky.
He felt a soft hand gently on his shoulder. “So you saw her too?” Annwku whispered, with an odd sense of nobility to his tone. Chul-Moo growled and looked towards him, the hood of his robe was down and he could clearly see the deep scar running down the side of his face. “That light in the distance is the tower of the ‘New World,’ and is our destination.” “Why are we –” Chul-Moo barked. “It isn’t safe to talk here,” Annwku interrupted, “but I am in need of someone of your…skills.” Annwku’s thin smile met with Chul-Moo’s cold, suspicious stare. “I sense trouble ahead, and need someone with your observational talents to scout ahead,” he elaborated. Chul-Moo looked deep into his dark eyes, beyond his pale purpling complexion and knew there was more that he wasn’t revealing, and from past experience concluded threatening him wouldn’t yield any more information. He looked about him and saw that he was beginning to draw attention from the other clans – perhaps curious as to why Annwku had come to him – and if he remained the undesired attention would not dwindle. He growled angrily at the thought of once again being manipulated like a puppet. “Kwan,” he bellowed. “Just follow the light,” Annwku said with a wry, distrustful tone, raising his hood once more and walking into the crowd, rapidly vanishing from view. Seeing Kwan emerge from the crowd towards him, he gripped his arm and in a hushed tone uttered “We leave,” before dragging him off, the light of the tower acting as their guiding star amidst the night.
They had yet to travel far but already as he looked behind him he saw no trace of their party. Kwan begrudgingly traipsing by his side, the explosions in the sky had since ceased and they were once more thrust into darkness. Only the faintest visible dark outlines giving any indication of their surroundings, the ever-bright light in the distance peering out at them in the starless night. “You remember when you spoke of that prophecy,” Chul-Moo began, “what else do you know of it?” “I thought you said –” Kwan retorted in a derisive tone, halted by the Chul-Moo’s firm hand clenching his shoulder as they walked. Kwan swallowed nervously, “she said that the prophecy foretold the coming of the beast, and that Annwku knows how to convince the beast to help us.” “Help us with what?” “Re-taking the city, we can –” Kwan was cut off by Chul-Moo’s angry growl. “Has that stupid whore not thought that there is no purpose for us in a city? That we might be happier in the warmth of the deserts, with plenty of food and drink, rather than sitting in some uncomfortable city working for others.” He looked at Kwan with a frustrated expression. “Is she blind to the violence that erupts when clans collide? Further proof that women are worthless…” Chul-Moo sneered, turning away from Kwan and back onto the path ahead. “Dad…” Kwan began nervously, “Why do you put up with Haneul’s plans? Why don’t you take another wife?” Chul-Moo grunted, amused by the notion. "You don’t think the complaining of one is enough?” he retorted. Kwan thought about this for a moment. “Could you not find one less troublesome, and then kill Haneul?” “The thought had crossed my mind,” Chul-Moo responded in a fantasised manner. “I could take my new wife and make her watch as I gutted that woman like an animal,” he sighed. “But she’d soon become a pest as well.” “But surely –” Kwan was quickly silenced by Chul-Moo’s hand being placed firmly over his mouth. Slowly, he crouched down into the long grass, Kwan doing the same, and he pointed onto the horizon. The faintest dark patch against the background of the night could be seen along their path, and so slowly, they crept forward.
With Kwan closely behind him, Chul-Moo shortened the distance between him and the object on the horizon, soon close enough to realise that they had stumbled upon a small village. With perhaps a dozen small wooden houses, likely only a single room in size and offering the most basic of comforts, it was constructed around a clearing in the centre. In this central courtyard lay the still smouldering remains of a fire and a long wooden table – evidently where they gathered to eat – and off the way was a fenced off area inhabited by a slew of various animals. As he got closer, he could see the rough wood they had used in their construction, the flat roofs showing the faintest hint of green as they slowly began to rot. He brushed up against the wall of one of the outlying houses, the lack of lights present indicating that the residents were asleep. He left his back crouched against the decaying wooden walls and looked towards Kwan, who remained a short distance away hidden in the grasslands. Slowly he peered through the window of the house before quickly darting back to face Kwan, a large grin on his face. Curious, Kwan clamoured forward and on the opposite side of the window, too slowly peered in to the room inside.
As expected, only the most basic of amenities lay within the house; directly beneath them a small desk, with room only for a small empty inkwell and a pile of paper. On the far side of the room was a wooden chest of drawers, pressed up against the unpainted wooden wall, upon which stood a single large candle housed in a glass lantern. It was not this, however, that had struck Chul-Moo’s attention, for beside the chest of drawers a young woman – perhaps in her early twenties – lay asleep on a wooden bed, her long white night-gown and soft dark hair taunting them; the hay in the mattress making itself known, poking through the soft white cotton sheets that lay between the woman and the woollen duvet warmly wrapped around her. At the foot of her bed lay a wooden cot of similar construction to that of the bed, and surrounded in a bundle of wool lay a sweet baby, with small tufts of darkly coloured hair emerging from its soft head. Both contently asleep, they lay blissfully unaware that they were being watched by Kwan and his salivating jaws. Kwin grinned, and looking towards Chul-Moo whispered “Chikan.”
Amidst the cover of darkness Chul-Moo lowered his sword and spear to the ground and crept around the side of the house until he happened upon the door. A simple wooden handle allowed him entry to the unlocked home, and gently he pushed the door open, stepped inside and closed the door behind him. His eyes darted to the window where Kwan remained captivated by the unfolding events, and returning his gaze to the woman caught up in her slumber he stared, lightly treading on the old wooden floorboards as he made his way towards her. The gentle creak where he stepped had him quickly shifting weight away, treading elsewhere. Slowly shifting his weight onto the more stable sounding floorboard, with a load crash of splintering wood the decaying floor without warning gave way under his immense weight. Shocked himself, he looked down to where his foot had gotten stuck, using his hands to free himself he once more returned his attention to the woman; woken by the sound she slowly opened her eyes, rapidly becoming wider as her gaze caught the copper coloured behemoth in her presence.
Like a cat he pounced, diving onto the bed and forcefully placing the hard-plated skin of his hand in her mouth, the sound of muffled screams emitting from her fragile mouth. Scrabbling to attain a more stable footing on the rough floor and subdue the woman more effectively as she lashed out with her feet, using her weak arms to try to push him away, he maintained his grip on her mouth as she screamed for her life. With strength he wouldn’t have expected her capable of she kicked his thigh, and as he slid back against the floor he momentarily lost his stance, his hold on her slipping slightly and like a cornered animal he felt her teeth sink into his fingers; his blood gently trickled down onto her cheek. It took all of his willpower not to snatch it back from her jaws and howl in pain, gritting his teeth he allowed her this small victory and regained his stance. Whilst she frantically hit his muscular arm, he placed his large hoof-like foot upon the bed, and using his claws to clamp onto the woollen duvet tore off three long strips, the satisfying sound of shredding fabric resonating throughout the small room.
He once more turned to the woman viciously biting him like a rabid animal, the blood from his hand smeared against her soft cheek as she lashed out in a futile attempt to cause him further harm. He moved the foot from the bed, kneeling on her torso to keep her fixed in place, slowly allowing more weight to crush her, cautious so as to not break the brittle bones of her chest. Gripping a strip of wool, he forced it against the gap at the side of her mouth where she clenched, with difficulty he pressed it harder, each time she clenched with a new vivacity. He felt something give; applying further pressure with his hard claw-like thumb the tooth suddenly gave way, collapsing in on itself in a stream of blood flowing like a small river into her open mouth. Uncontrollably she spluttered, releasing her grip upon his hand to cough out a fine particulate mist onto Chul-Moo’s face. Seizing this opportunity, he relinquished his hand from her jaws and continued to force the wool into her agape mouth, using his injured hand to hold her head in position.
Taking another woollen strip, he placed it over her mouth forced open, and rolling her onto her side began to tie it firmly behind her head, letting her tangled dark hair flow callously between the knot. Frantically she reached behind her in an attempt to undo the knot as he was tying it; he swatted her hands away, her arm flew across in front of her knocking the glass lantern from the nearby chest of drawers onto the hard wooden floor. With a loud crash it fractured in a number of tiny pieces, the cacophony evidently enough to disturb the young child at the end of the bed who began to cry. Growling loudly, he rolled the mother onto her chest, firmly placing his knee into the back of her spine, her nose smothered on the bed, she flailed incapable of breath. He finished tying the mouth gag before firmly taking her flailing arms and tying them rigidly behind her back.
Clutching her nightgown he raised her from the bed which she laid, standing tall and allowing her dangling legs to flail inches from the ground. Turning his attention the racket produced by the child, he lowered his head into the child’s cot, his salivating jaws inches from the baby’s upset face, breathing heavily he allowed the stench of decaying flesh being emitted from his mouth to flow in its direction, only causing the infant to cry more heavily. Spraying the child with the saliva dripping from his mouth he suddenly jerked his head forward and bellowed a deep short lived roar. Upon hearing this outburst the small child lay petrified, not daring to utter a sound should it further anger the beast. Pleased with himself, Chul-Moo allowed the briefest of smiles to emerge on his face, tenderly salivating at the prospect of his sweet snack shortly to come. It was then that he noticed the warm flow of liquid running down the hard skin of his leg, forming around his feet. Standing up he returned his gaze to the woman in his hands, and looked down to the small puddle of urine she had produced in her own fear at his cry. Disgusted, in reflex he tossed her aside like a rag doll, her delicate forehead coming into contact with the hard desk on the opposite side of the room, collapsing unconscious onto the hard wooden floor. Blood seeped out from her wound, saturating the fabric of her pure white night-gown and staining it a dark red; slowly dripping down through the floorboards onto the cold ground below. Frustrated at how the events had unfolded, he tore the cotton sheet from the bed and placing his foot upon the hay began to mop up the foul smelling liquid from his foot, taking care to try to remove as much of the liquid as he could from the cracks in his hard skin. Smelling the sheet he recoiled, disgusted by the odour wafting from it and threw it over the unconscious woman. With a look of annoyance on his face he turned to Kwan, still peering at the window, his expression quickly transitioning into a look of concern as his gaze caught upon the prominent figure that had emerged from the grasslands behind him.
Sensing his surprise, in an instant Kwan spun around to face the human in his presence; evidently arriving on the horse a short way into the distance, his leather armour only partially hidden by the regal looking cloak, a rich dark green felt-like fabric, with purple stripes on either side, embossed with elegant golden symbols proudly displaying “どんな心配のマスターか” running vertically down the cape. With long blonde hair elegantly dancing about his shoulders, his face contorted with a deep seated rage as he uttered his battle cry. As he raised his crossbow to them and fired the bolt, Kwan’s instinct took over and he dived to the floor, the sound of the wind rushing inches from him, the crashing sound as it glided effortlessly through the glass window and squarely into the shoulder of Chul-Moo. In a fit of blind rage he roared, the cacophony shaking the thin walls of the house, the nearby horse rearing onto its hind legs before fleeing the scene. With a satisfying snap he broke the end of bolt from his chest leaving only the head embedded deep within his shoulder. The unseen attacker dropped his weapon and clutched at the hilt of the sword in its sheath, rapidly withdrawing the weapon to confront Kwan, the demon who had rapidly risen to his feet and was now charging at him. Effortlessly Kwan caught him off guard and swatted the sword from his hand, deftly slashing his claw like hands at his chest in a venomous rage. As the enemy turned to run, Kwan dived, tackling him to the ground, his powerful arms fixed around the waist of his attacker who lay desperately trying to escape his powerful clutches. Spluttering, the soft skin cried “run,” before being met with Kwan’s powerful grip around his throat.
Hearing the cry, Chul-Moo’s eyes darted off into the distance and saw a second figure with the same robe making for their escape. Turning to Kwan, he witnessed the rage as he continued to savagely maul the soft-skin, desperately struggling for breath as his blood seeped out onto the ground, his throat now a bloody pulp of flesh, the hard muscle of his oesophagus exposed to the cold air, pierced under the might of the beast. Charging to the side of the house Chul-Moo retrieved his spear, and with all the expertise of a master javelin thrower made it soar through the air; the distant figure frantically looking behind, incapable of avoiding the weapon as it pierced through the back of his calf with a satisfying cracking sound that could be heard through the night. Charging at the incapacitated figure through the grasslands, the distant figure could be seen slowly withdrawing the spear firmly embedded in his leg, blood oozing out from the wound onto the grassy floor, he tossed it aside and began crawling towards his own mount a short way off into the distance, Chul-Moo’s powerful legs quickly closing the gap between them.
Without warning, from the long grass, a hidden figure took him by surprise; a blur of a dark grey robe that succeeded in tackling him by surprise and together they crashed to the ground. Deftly he rolled for control and quickly managed to pin him down, crushing the bones of his shoulder against the hard ground, he looked up to the horizon, spotting the caped attacker now making his escape by horse. With a roar of anger at having lost his prey, he once more turned his attention to the soft-skin beneath him, gazing into his dark eyes, the same pale purple skin and deep set scar; it was Annwku. “WHY WERE YOU FOLLOWING ME?” he roared, the saliva from his mouth spraying him, the blood lust in his eyes enough to petrify most who would gaze upon them, but still he remained un-phased. “I had a suspicion we were being followed,” he calmly responded, “and you were the bait.” Chul-Moo growled angrily. “You set me up –” “And what a fine job you did luring them out.” Chul-Moo raised a hand to Annwku’s throat and firmly took hold. “Give me a reason not to end this foolish crusade right now.” Annwku uttered a small demonic cackle of laughter. “You think you could get away with killing me? There’s an army marching right this way waiting for me to take them back to the city, an army who saw us together – saw you leave. You actually think they will let you live if I go missing?” Chul-Moo growled angrily, not letting his anger get in the way of his judgement as he momentarily lost himself in deep thought, internally weighing up his choices before reluctantly letting him go. The soft skin was right; he had promised them something he could not, and in doing so had become an impartial leader in their conquest to retake the city. Before allowing him to return to his feet he leant in, his large salivating canines inches from Annwku’s face. “I won’t forget this,” he growled threateningly. Getting up into a seated position, he looked across to Kwan, still maiming the long deceased intruder. Bitterly he looked towards Annwku, also returned to a seated position, his crossed legs and raised hood obscuring his face one more. “Why do we need you at all human?” he growled, each word filled with more disdain and loathing than the last. “I think you’ll find I have my uses,” he responded in a complacent manner. Gently resting his soft hand on Chul-Moo’s shoulder he closed his eyes in deep concentration. Suddenly Chul-Moo felt a pain emerge in his head, as though it was expanding under the presence of another being and was incapable of keeping it there without swelling. His heart began to beat faster, the blood pumping around his large muscular body with an intensity that caused his arms to quiver. He let out a quiet groan of pain as it travelled away from his head, down his neck and across to his shoulder in the vicinity of where the bolt had hit him. He looked down and watched as it slowly began to emerge from deep within the hard plates of his skin. The pain began to lessen the further it came out of his torso, the blood stained metal tip eventually dropping out onto the ground. He rolled onto his back and felt the area he was injured, the wound already scarring over. With a look of disbelief he stared at Annwku’s thin smile, and then off into the distance; the army was approaching.
Hidden by the long blades of grass, they numbered in their hundreds – Chul-Moo had never witnessed such a large gathering of clans, some of which he recognised, but more he did not. It appeared that Haneul had not simply convinced – most likely the women he thought begrudgingly, of – their neighbouring clans, but also those from clans distant to their own, and it was not just the males present either, women and children alike had arrived to join the effort. Two young males had locked horns with one another, one showing the gentle trickle of blood from his temple where he had evidently been struck, but now appeared to be gaining the upper hand in their blood sport; it was for reasons such as this that such gatherings never occurred, the inevitability of friction resulting in violence could be easily avoided. In the distant horizon, towards the origins of the sky-fire the faintest bright spot could be seen; a tower lit up brighter than the rest of the horizon, and even as the light faded back down into the black of the night, this small spot on the horizon remained stationary in the night sky.
He felt a soft hand gently on his shoulder. “So you saw her too?” Annwku whispered, with an odd sense of nobility to his tone. Chul-Moo growled and looked towards him, the hood of his robe was down and he could clearly see the deep scar running down the side of his face. “That light in the distance is the tower of the ‘New World,’ and is our destination.” “Why are we –” Chul-Moo barked. “It isn’t safe to talk here,” Annwku interrupted, “but I am in need of someone of your…skills.” Annwku’s thin smile met with Chul-Moo’s cold, suspicious stare. “I sense trouble ahead, and need someone with your observational talents to scout ahead,” he elaborated. Chul-Moo looked deep into his dark eyes, beyond his pale purpling complexion and knew there was more that he wasn’t revealing, and from past experience concluded threatening him wouldn’t yield any more information. He looked about him and saw that he was beginning to draw attention from the other clans – perhaps curious as to why Annwku had come to him – and if he remained the undesired attention would not dwindle. He growled angrily at the thought of once again being manipulated like a puppet. “Kwan,” he bellowed. “Just follow the light,” Annwku said with a wry, distrustful tone, raising his hood once more and walking into the crowd, rapidly vanishing from view. Seeing Kwan emerge from the crowd towards him, he gripped his arm and in a hushed tone uttered “We leave,” before dragging him off, the light of the tower acting as their guiding star amidst the night.
They had yet to travel far but already as he looked behind him he saw no trace of their party. Kwan begrudgingly traipsing by his side, the explosions in the sky had since ceased and they were once more thrust into darkness. Only the faintest visible dark outlines giving any indication of their surroundings, the ever-bright light in the distance peering out at them in the starless night. “You remember when you spoke of that prophecy,” Chul-Moo began, “what else do you know of it?” “I thought you said –” Kwan retorted in a derisive tone, halted by the Chul-Moo’s firm hand clenching his shoulder as they walked. Kwan swallowed nervously, “she said that the prophecy foretold the coming of the beast, and that Annwku knows how to convince the beast to help us.” “Help us with what?” “Re-taking the city, we can –” Kwan was cut off by Chul-Moo’s angry growl. “Has that stupid whore not thought that there is no purpose for us in a city? That we might be happier in the warmth of the deserts, with plenty of food and drink, rather than sitting in some uncomfortable city working for others.” He looked at Kwan with a frustrated expression. “Is she blind to the violence that erupts when clans collide? Further proof that women are worthless…” Chul-Moo sneered, turning away from Kwan and back onto the path ahead. “Dad…” Kwan began nervously, “Why do you put up with Haneul’s plans? Why don’t you take another wife?” Chul-Moo grunted, amused by the notion. "You don’t think the complaining of one is enough?” he retorted. Kwan thought about this for a moment. “Could you not find one less troublesome, and then kill Haneul?” “The thought had crossed my mind,” Chul-Moo responded in a fantasised manner. “I could take my new wife and make her watch as I gutted that woman like an animal,” he sighed. “But she’d soon become a pest as well.” “But surely –” Kwan was quickly silenced by Chul-Moo’s hand being placed firmly over his mouth. Slowly, he crouched down into the long grass, Kwan doing the same, and he pointed onto the horizon. The faintest dark patch against the background of the night could be seen along their path, and so slowly, they crept forward.
With Kwan closely behind him, Chul-Moo shortened the distance between him and the object on the horizon, soon close enough to realise that they had stumbled upon a small village. With perhaps a dozen small wooden houses, likely only a single room in size and offering the most basic of comforts, it was constructed around a clearing in the centre. In this central courtyard lay the still smouldering remains of a fire and a long wooden table – evidently where they gathered to eat – and off the way was a fenced off area inhabited by a slew of various animals. As he got closer, he could see the rough wood they had used in their construction, the flat roofs showing the faintest hint of green as they slowly began to rot. He brushed up against the wall of one of the outlying houses, the lack of lights present indicating that the residents were asleep. He left his back crouched against the decaying wooden walls and looked towards Kwan, who remained a short distance away hidden in the grasslands. Slowly he peered through the window of the house before quickly darting back to face Kwan, a large grin on his face. Curious, Kwan clamoured forward and on the opposite side of the window, too slowly peered in to the room inside.
As expected, only the most basic of amenities lay within the house; directly beneath them a small desk, with room only for a small empty inkwell and a pile of paper. On the far side of the room was a wooden chest of drawers, pressed up against the unpainted wooden wall, upon which stood a single large candle housed in a glass lantern. It was not this, however, that had struck Chul-Moo’s attention, for beside the chest of drawers a young woman – perhaps in her early twenties – lay asleep on a wooden bed, her long white night-gown and soft dark hair taunting them; the hay in the mattress making itself known, poking through the soft white cotton sheets that lay between the woman and the woollen duvet warmly wrapped around her. At the foot of her bed lay a wooden cot of similar construction to that of the bed, and surrounded in a bundle of wool lay a sweet baby, with small tufts of darkly coloured hair emerging from its soft head. Both contently asleep, they lay blissfully unaware that they were being watched by Kwan and his salivating jaws. Kwin grinned, and looking towards Chul-Moo whispered “Chikan.”
Amidst the cover of darkness Chul-Moo lowered his sword and spear to the ground and crept around the side of the house until he happened upon the door. A simple wooden handle allowed him entry to the unlocked home, and gently he pushed the door open, stepped inside and closed the door behind him. His eyes darted to the window where Kwan remained captivated by the unfolding events, and returning his gaze to the woman caught up in her slumber he stared, lightly treading on the old wooden floorboards as he made his way towards her. The gentle creak where he stepped had him quickly shifting weight away, treading elsewhere. Slowly shifting his weight onto the more stable sounding floorboard, with a load crash of splintering wood the decaying floor without warning gave way under his immense weight. Shocked himself, he looked down to where his foot had gotten stuck, using his hands to free himself he once more returned his attention to the woman; woken by the sound she slowly opened her eyes, rapidly becoming wider as her gaze caught the copper coloured behemoth in her presence.
Like a cat he pounced, diving onto the bed and forcefully placing the hard-plated skin of his hand in her mouth, the sound of muffled screams emitting from her fragile mouth. Scrabbling to attain a more stable footing on the rough floor and subdue the woman more effectively as she lashed out with her feet, using her weak arms to try to push him away, he maintained his grip on her mouth as she screamed for her life. With strength he wouldn’t have expected her capable of she kicked his thigh, and as he slid back against the floor he momentarily lost his stance, his hold on her slipping slightly and like a cornered animal he felt her teeth sink into his fingers; his blood gently trickled down onto her cheek. It took all of his willpower not to snatch it back from her jaws and howl in pain, gritting his teeth he allowed her this small victory and regained his stance. Whilst she frantically hit his muscular arm, he placed his large hoof-like foot upon the bed, and using his claws to clamp onto the woollen duvet tore off three long strips, the satisfying sound of shredding fabric resonating throughout the small room.
He once more turned to the woman viciously biting him like a rabid animal, the blood from his hand smeared against her soft cheek as she lashed out in a futile attempt to cause him further harm. He moved the foot from the bed, kneeling on her torso to keep her fixed in place, slowly allowing more weight to crush her, cautious so as to not break the brittle bones of her chest. Gripping a strip of wool, he forced it against the gap at the side of her mouth where she clenched, with difficulty he pressed it harder, each time she clenched with a new vivacity. He felt something give; applying further pressure with his hard claw-like thumb the tooth suddenly gave way, collapsing in on itself in a stream of blood flowing like a small river into her open mouth. Uncontrollably she spluttered, releasing her grip upon his hand to cough out a fine particulate mist onto Chul-Moo’s face. Seizing this opportunity, he relinquished his hand from her jaws and continued to force the wool into her agape mouth, using his injured hand to hold her head in position.
Taking another woollen strip, he placed it over her mouth forced open, and rolling her onto her side began to tie it firmly behind her head, letting her tangled dark hair flow callously between the knot. Frantically she reached behind her in an attempt to undo the knot as he was tying it; he swatted her hands away, her arm flew across in front of her knocking the glass lantern from the nearby chest of drawers onto the hard wooden floor. With a loud crash it fractured in a number of tiny pieces, the cacophony evidently enough to disturb the young child at the end of the bed who began to cry. Growling loudly, he rolled the mother onto her chest, firmly placing his knee into the back of her spine, her nose smothered on the bed, she flailed incapable of breath. He finished tying the mouth gag before firmly taking her flailing arms and tying them rigidly behind her back.
Clutching her nightgown he raised her from the bed which she laid, standing tall and allowing her dangling legs to flail inches from the ground. Turning his attention the racket produced by the child, he lowered his head into the child’s cot, his salivating jaws inches from the baby’s upset face, breathing heavily he allowed the stench of decaying flesh being emitted from his mouth to flow in its direction, only causing the infant to cry more heavily. Spraying the child with the saliva dripping from his mouth he suddenly jerked his head forward and bellowed a deep short lived roar. Upon hearing this outburst the small child lay petrified, not daring to utter a sound should it further anger the beast. Pleased with himself, Chul-Moo allowed the briefest of smiles to emerge on his face, tenderly salivating at the prospect of his sweet snack shortly to come. It was then that he noticed the warm flow of liquid running down the hard skin of his leg, forming around his feet. Standing up he returned his gaze to the woman in his hands, and looked down to the small puddle of urine she had produced in her own fear at his cry. Disgusted, in reflex he tossed her aside like a rag doll, her delicate forehead coming into contact with the hard desk on the opposite side of the room, collapsing unconscious onto the hard wooden floor. Blood seeped out from her wound, saturating the fabric of her pure white night-gown and staining it a dark red; slowly dripping down through the floorboards onto the cold ground below. Frustrated at how the events had unfolded, he tore the cotton sheet from the bed and placing his foot upon the hay began to mop up the foul smelling liquid from his foot, taking care to try to remove as much of the liquid as he could from the cracks in his hard skin. Smelling the sheet he recoiled, disgusted by the odour wafting from it and threw it over the unconscious woman. With a look of annoyance on his face he turned to Kwan, still peering at the window, his expression quickly transitioning into a look of concern as his gaze caught upon the prominent figure that had emerged from the grasslands behind him.
Sensing his surprise, in an instant Kwan spun around to face the human in his presence; evidently arriving on the horse a short way into the distance, his leather armour only partially hidden by the regal looking cloak, a rich dark green felt-like fabric, with purple stripes on either side, embossed with elegant golden symbols proudly displaying “どんな心配のマスターか” running vertically down the cape. With long blonde hair elegantly dancing about his shoulders, his face contorted with a deep seated rage as he uttered his battle cry. As he raised his crossbow to them and fired the bolt, Kwan’s instinct took over and he dived to the floor, the sound of the wind rushing inches from him, the crashing sound as it glided effortlessly through the glass window and squarely into the shoulder of Chul-Moo. In a fit of blind rage he roared, the cacophony shaking the thin walls of the house, the nearby horse rearing onto its hind legs before fleeing the scene. With a satisfying snap he broke the end of bolt from his chest leaving only the head embedded deep within his shoulder. The unseen attacker dropped his weapon and clutched at the hilt of the sword in its sheath, rapidly withdrawing the weapon to confront Kwan, the demon who had rapidly risen to his feet and was now charging at him. Effortlessly Kwan caught him off guard and swatted the sword from his hand, deftly slashing his claw like hands at his chest in a venomous rage. As the enemy turned to run, Kwan dived, tackling him to the ground, his powerful arms fixed around the waist of his attacker who lay desperately trying to escape his powerful clutches. Spluttering, the soft skin cried “run,” before being met with Kwan’s powerful grip around his throat.
Hearing the cry, Chul-Moo’s eyes darted off into the distance and saw a second figure with the same robe making for their escape. Turning to Kwan, he witnessed the rage as he continued to savagely maul the soft-skin, desperately struggling for breath as his blood seeped out onto the ground, his throat now a bloody pulp of flesh, the hard muscle of his oesophagus exposed to the cold air, pierced under the might of the beast. Charging to the side of the house Chul-Moo retrieved his spear, and with all the expertise of a master javelin thrower made it soar through the air; the distant figure frantically looking behind, incapable of avoiding the weapon as it pierced through the back of his calf with a satisfying cracking sound that could be heard through the night. Charging at the incapacitated figure through the grasslands, the distant figure could be seen slowly withdrawing the spear firmly embedded in his leg, blood oozing out from the wound onto the grassy floor, he tossed it aside and began crawling towards his own mount a short way off into the distance, Chul-Moo’s powerful legs quickly closing the gap between them.
Without warning, from the long grass, a hidden figure took him by surprise; a blur of a dark grey robe that succeeded in tackling him by surprise and together they crashed to the ground. Deftly he rolled for control and quickly managed to pin him down, crushing the bones of his shoulder against the hard ground, he looked up to the horizon, spotting the caped attacker now making his escape by horse. With a roar of anger at having lost his prey, he once more turned his attention to the soft-skin beneath him, gazing into his dark eyes, the same pale purple skin and deep set scar; it was Annwku. “WHY WERE YOU FOLLOWING ME?” he roared, the saliva from his mouth spraying him, the blood lust in his eyes enough to petrify most who would gaze upon them, but still he remained un-phased. “I had a suspicion we were being followed,” he calmly responded, “and you were the bait.” Chul-Moo growled angrily. “You set me up –” “And what a fine job you did luring them out.” Chul-Moo raised a hand to Annwku’s throat and firmly took hold. “Give me a reason not to end this foolish crusade right now.” Annwku uttered a small demonic cackle of laughter. “You think you could get away with killing me? There’s an army marching right this way waiting for me to take them back to the city, an army who saw us together – saw you leave. You actually think they will let you live if I go missing?” Chul-Moo growled angrily, not letting his anger get in the way of his judgement as he momentarily lost himself in deep thought, internally weighing up his choices before reluctantly letting him go. The soft skin was right; he had promised them something he could not, and in doing so had become an impartial leader in their conquest to retake the city. Before allowing him to return to his feet he leant in, his large salivating canines inches from Annwku’s face. “I won’t forget this,” he growled threateningly. Getting up into a seated position, he looked across to Kwan, still maiming the long deceased intruder. Bitterly he looked towards Annwku, also returned to a seated position, his crossed legs and raised hood obscuring his face one more. “Why do we need you at all human?” he growled, each word filled with more disdain and loathing than the last. “I think you’ll find I have my uses,” he responded in a complacent manner. Gently resting his soft hand on Chul-Moo’s shoulder he closed his eyes in deep concentration. Suddenly Chul-Moo felt a pain emerge in his head, as though it was expanding under the presence of another being and was incapable of keeping it there without swelling. His heart began to beat faster, the blood pumping around his large muscular body with an intensity that caused his arms to quiver. He let out a quiet groan of pain as it travelled away from his head, down his neck and across to his shoulder in the vicinity of where the bolt had hit him. He looked down and watched as it slowly began to emerge from deep within the hard plates of his skin. The pain began to lessen the further it came out of his torso, the blood stained metal tip eventually dropping out onto the ground. He rolled onto his back and felt the area he was injured, the wound already scarring over. With a look of disbelief he stared at Annwku’s thin smile, and then off into the distance; the army was approaching.
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