Chapter 221: Moving Legs and Slowing Heart

"Ha… haah…"

Ulrich's breath came in ragged gasps.

He stood in the center of the ruined deck, one hand holding the black anti-magic sword while rain poured over his body. His shirt had become almost entirely red beneath the water. Blood ran down his side, his shoulder, his legs, and the ruined stump of his left arm.

His throat was dry.

Every breath felt like pain pressing into his lungs. The smell of smoke, burned wood, blood, and saltwater filled his chest. He tried to draw in more air, but his body refused to obey properly.

His vision blurred.

The silver aura from the Hollow Core had vanished.

Only a few fading sparks remained around him before the rain swallowed them.

Ulrich looked down.

His left forearm lay on the deck several paces away.

It had been severed below the elbow. Rainwater washed over the pale skin and bloodied sleeve. Blood continued to pour from the wound at his arm, dripping from his body onto the ship's wooden planks.

He could not leave it.

Not even for a few more seconds.

Ulrich raised his right hand.

A small Formula Ring appeared near the stump.

The ring trembled.

His mana core had been pushed too far. The Hollow Core had left him empty and shaking. Even forming a small spell took concentration he barely possessed.

Fire gathered in the Formula Ring.

Ulrich brought it toward the wound and the heat touched his flesh.

"Ughnn…"

A groan escaped his lips, and his body tensed as the pain hit him strongly.

Fire burned through the torn flesh. Smoke rose from his arm. The smell of burned blood mixed with the rain and sea air.

Ulrich's knees nearly gave out but he held still.

He kept the spell active until the bleeding slowed before he dismissed it.

The Formula Ring vanished.

Ulrich lowered his hand, his breath even more ragged than before.

He turned his eyes toward the four Valmorian knights standing before Airam.

The soldiers had frozen.

Their black armor was wet with rain. Their anti-magic swords remained raised, but none of them had moved since Valdris fell. They had watched their commander collapse beneath Ulrich's final strike. They had watched Ulrich lose his arm and remain standing.

They had watched their comrades die.

Ulrich's eyes were half-lidded with exhaustion.

Blood had run into the white around them, making the deep crimson color appear darker than ever. He looked as though he might collapse at any moment.

Yet the hatred in his gaze made the knights hesitate.

Even though he looked like he was on the verge of breathing his last, his eyes looked as intimidating as ever.

The Valmorian soldiers looked at one another.

Then one stepped forward.

Ulrich was dying.

He had only one arm.

His sword remained in his right hand, but his grip had weakened. His body shook each time he breathed.

They only needed one strike.

Just one clean blow.

The first knight rushed him, his black sword came toward Ulrich's chest.

Ulrich stepped forward.

The movement looked slow.

The Valmorian knight believed he had misjudged the distance. He adjusted his attack, aiming higher toward Ulrich's neck.

Ulrich tilted his head.

The sword passed beside his face.

At the same time, Ulrich thrust his own weapon forward.

The black anti-magic blade entered through the gap between the knight's lower armor plates. Through his groin.

The soldier froze.

Ulrich did not pull the sword out immediately. He stepped closer, using the dying man's body to keep the other knights from reaching him too quickly.

Then he tore the blade free.

The Valmorian knight stumbled backward.

Ulrich swung once.

The soldier's head fell from his shoulders.

The body collapsed onto the deck.

Three remained.

Ulrich took another step forward.

His sight blurred; the deck shifted beneath him along.

For an instant, he saw Airam beyond the remaining knights.

She stood near the railing, motionless beneath the rain.

Her dark hair clung to her face. Her cloak had slipped from one shoulder. Her hands were clenched at her sides, but she did not appear able to move.

Ulrich could not tell whether the water on her face came from the storm.

But it looked as though she was crying in silence.

Her expression had twisted.

She stared at him with a mix of expressions impossible to describe.

Ulrich's eyes rested on her for only a moment.

Then the second Valmorian knight rushed him.

The soldier swung his anti-magic sword with both hands.

Ulrich raised his own blade.

Their weapons collided.

The impact traveled through Ulrich's arm.

His right hand opened, unable to withstand the shock, and the he black sword flew from his grip and struck the deck near the mast.

The Valmorian knight saw it, and immediately stepped forward.

Ulrich was unarmed; it was his chance!

The soldier lifted his sword for the final strike.

Ulrich pulled his head back.

Then he drove his forehead into the front of the knight's helmet.

The Valmorian knight grunted in pain.

His head snapped backward, and his helmet shifted.

Ulrich moved before the soldier could recover.

His right hand flew toward the knight's exposed neck.

A small Formula Ring appeared.

The Valmorian soldier's eyes widened.

The spell formed against his throat.

Fire burst outward.

The knight tried to scream.

The sound became a wet gasp.

Heat swallowed the exposed skin beneath his helmet. His throat glowed red beneath the rain. Then the flesh blackened. Smoke rose around his neck.

The soldier dropped his sword; his hands flew toward his throat, but there was nothing he could stop.

He collapsed onto the deck.

Two remained now.

Ulrich swayed even more.

The spell had cost him more mana than it should have. His right hand shook at his side. He tried to move toward the fallen anti-magic sword, but his legs felt heavy.

The third Valmorian knight attacked.

He jumped forward with his blade raised above his head.

Ulrich saw the strike coming and he stepped back.

His boot slipped on rainwater and blood.

And he fell, his back hitting the deck.

Pain tore through his injuries.

His breath left him in a sharp gasp.

The Valmorian knight rushed him.

He raised his sword and thrust it downward toward Ulrich's chest, but Ulrich rolled quickly aside.

The black blade buried itself in the deck.

The knight tried to pull it free.

Ulrich put every remaining piece of strength into his right leg.

He kicked upward.

His heel struck the Valmorian knight's kneecap.

"Gah!"

The soldier cried out.

His leg bent wrong beneath the armor. He dropped to one knee, one hand reaching toward the wound.

Ulrich moved fast as he pushed himself over the knight's body and straddled him.

The Valmorian soldier reached for his sword, but Ulrich grabbed the helmet first.

His fingers hooked beneath the loosened edge.

He tore it off, exposing the knight's face.

Rain ran down his skin.

His eyes widened as he saw Ulrich above him.

Ulrich drove his forehead down.

The first headbutt broke the man's nose.

Blood splashed across Ulrich's face.

The Valmorian knight tried to raise both arms, but Ulrich caught him by the chestplate of his armor and forced him down.

The second headbutt struck harder.

The man's head hit the deck beneath him.

The third made his body jerk.

Ulrich's vision swayed.

His own head hurt. Blood ran down from his forehead, mixing with the rain. But he did not stop.

He struck again, and again.

The fourth headbutt landed.

The Valmorian knight's eyes rolled upward and his body went still.

Ulrich remained above him for a moment, his right hand twisted into the front of the dead man's armor.

Then he felt danger.

The final Valmorian knight had reached him.

Ulrich turned his head.

The soldier stood over him with his sword raised.

Ulrich knew he could not move quickly enough.

His body had nothing left.

He could not roll away.

He could not reach the fallen anti-magic sword.

He could not form another Formula Ring in time.

The Valmorian knight brought his sword down.

But then a blade burst through the soldier's throat.

Blood spilled across the rain-soaked deck.

The knight froze.

His sword slipped from his hands.

He dropped to his knees and he fell sideways.

Behind him stood Airam.

She held a sword with both hands.

She looked at Ulrich.

Then Ulrich looked at her.

The deck shifted beneath him.

His vision darkened.

The last of his strength disappeared.

Ulrich's body swayed forward.

Airam dropped the sword.

"U—Ulrich!"

She rushed to him.

Her knees struck the deck as she caught his body before he could fall fully onto the dead knight beneath him. She pulled him away, dragging him across the wet wood until his back rested against the side of the ship.

"ULRICH!!!"

She shook his shoulders.

His head fell forward.

Blood ran from his mouth.

Airam placed one hand against his chest.

His heartbeat was weak.

Too weak.

It beat slowly beneath her palm.

Once.

Then another time.

Each beat felt farther apart than the last.

Airam's eyes widened.

"N—Noo...no...."

She leaned closer.

"Ulrich, wake up."

He did not answer.

"U—Ulrich…."

Her voice shook as her face slowly twisted.

"Wake up…"

Nothing.

"N—NO…no….no…"

Airam let out a short, broken gasp.

Then she screamed.

"NOOOO!!!"

She raised both hands.

She tried to summon runes.

Nothing happened.

The suppression dart Valdris had used on her still remained in her body. Its effect had weakened during the battle, but it still blocked the witch veins from responding properly. Airam could feel the power within her, trapped beneath the surface and unable to reach her hands.

She clenched her fists.

Her nails dug into her palms.

"COME OUT," she shouted.

No runes appeared.

"NO—NOOO!!!"

She pressed one hand against Ulrich's chest again.

"P—Please…"

Her voice cracked.

"Wake up….wake up….WAKE UP!!!"

Ulrich did not move.

Airam's breath caught.

She looked at his face, her lips trembling.

"N-NOOOO!!!!"

Airam screamed again.

The deck trembled.

A crack appeared beneath her knees.

Then another.

The wood split apart around Ulrich's body. Rainwater poured through the widening gaps. Pieces of deck rose and broke beneath the pressure building around Airam.

A dark aura began to ooze from her body.

It moved across the deck in thin black trails.

The suppression dart could not hold back everything.

Airam's fear had reached deeper than the medicine.

The Witch Tree answered.

Her eyes darkened.

The black pupils widened until no color remained. The darkness spread across them, turning her gaze pitch-black.

The pressure around her intensified.

The ship groaned.

More wood cracked beneath her. Lanterns along the deck flickered. The water around the hull trembled as though the sea itself had felt the power rising from Airam.

Black runes appeared.

They did not form carefully.

They burst into existence around her hands, dark symbols twisting through the rain. Airam tried to force them toward Ulrich's chest.

But they were not healing runes.

She knew that.

They were destructive.

They were meant to break, tear, bind, and erase.

If she released them into Ulrich's body, she would destroy him herself.

Still, panic kept her hands raised.

Her black eyes did not notice the danger.

The dark veins beneath the skin of Ulrich's chest began to appear.

Thin black lines spread outward from where Airam's hand rested. They climbed across his skin, reacting to the loose witchcraft gathering around her.

The pressure became unbearable.

Dark tears of blood streamed down her eyes as black veins protruded from her pale skin as well.

"You can save him."

Valdris's voice cut through the storm.

Airam snapped her pitch-black gaze toward him.

Valdris lay several paces away.

He had not died.

The huge wound across his chest still bled beneath his torn coat. His face was pale. His body barely moved. Yet he remained conscious enough to lift one hand.

He flicked his fingers.

A small glass vial flew from his fingers.

It struck the wet deck, rolled through rainwater and blood, and stopped beside Airam's knee.

The liquid inside was dark.

Valmorian serum.

Airam stared at it.

The destructive witchcraft around her trembled. The black runes hovering near her hands flickered through the rain. The pressure surrounding her had nearly torn apart part of the deck, but the sight of the vial forced her attention back toward Ulrich.

Valdris coughed.

Blood spilled from his mouth.

"Give him that," he said.

Airam did not move.

Her hand remained pressed against Ulrich's chest.

His heartbeat was weak beneath her palm, slowly.

The black veins created by her unstable witchcraft continued to spread faintly across his skin.

"He will die without it," Valdris said.

Airam looked at Ulrich.

The rain ran down his face.

His eyes remained closed.

He looked smaller now that the battle had ended. The crimson aura had faded. The silver power was gone. The black anti-magic sword lay beyond his reach. His left arm was still missing beneath the bloodied bandages, and his body had been cut, burned, and beaten until no part of him looked untouched.

Airam reached for the vial.

Her fingers closed around the cold glass.

The dark aura around her weakened.

The blackness slowly receded from her eyes, leaving them their usual deep color. The runes surrounding her hands faded one after another, though the deck still trembled faintly beneath her knees.

She pulled the stopper from the vial.

Airam knew it was dangerous.

She knew there could be a cost but Ulrich's heart was slowing.

She had no time to hesitate.

Airam lifted the vial to her lips, and she drank the contents.

The liquid burned down her throat.

It tasted bitter and metallic, leaving a hot numbness across her tongue. The effect reached her chest almost immediately. Her body stiffened. Mana moved beneath her skin in a sudden, unpleasant surge.

Then she leaned over Ulrich.

Airam placed one hand against his chest.

Her other hand caught the back of his head.

Her black eyes stared down at Ulrich's face intensely before she pressed her lips against his.

The serum passed from her mouth into his.

Ulrich did not react.

Airam held him closer.

She forced the liquid down his throat, refusing to pull away until she felt him swallow. Her fingers clenched against his chest, gripping the soaked fabric of his shirt as though holding him tightly enough could keep him from slipping away.

"Drink," she whispered against his lips.

She pressed her lips against his again, giving him the last of the serum.

Rain fell around them.

The deck was broken beneath their knees.

Valdris watched from the bloodied planks nearby.

And Airam held Ulrich close, waiting for his heart to beat again, and then she heard it.

His heartbeat quickening.