CH996 · Rewrite
☕ Support

Chapter 996: Fight with Pain

A long time.

But full of pleasure.

She felt as though she had returned to the battlefield of four hundred years ago — but this time without the weight of failure, without watching her companions die in her arms. No burden of responsibility. No larger stakes pressing down on every action.

Best of all, both of them could feel pain.

The pain made it real.

“Female.” Kabradhabi studied the severed arm it held and then dropped it on the ground between them. “I have to say — you’ve done well. You’re a bug, but you’re stronger than most of your kind. I didn’t choose wrong. Your performance satisfies me.”

“Glad to hear it.” Zooey spat a piece of flesh from her mouth. “Unfortunately, yours tastes disgusting.”

Was this the fifth day? The seventh? Without the sun or stars, time could only be estimated by the body’s rhythms — by the cycles of thirst and hunger, which appeared and then suddenly vanished, resetting, as if the space itself regulated them. It was reasonable to call each such cycle a day. Otherwise, a fight like this would have ground them both down within hours.

Her arm ached where it had been torn off. An unfair contest by any conventional measure: the demon could conjure a sword from its own magic power; she had only her limbs and teeth.

She didn’t care about fairness.

Victory and failure had ceased to matter here.

On the old battlefields, she had killed to protect herself and protect her companions. Here, the severed limbs regenerated. No wound produced unconsciousness. With death removed from the equation, pain became the only thing that was permanent — and permanent pain was simply another name for sensation.

You didn’t need a sword for that.

She noticed that the demon had slowed its pace. This was the first time it had taken the initiative to stop and speak.

“Your persistence is meaningless.” Kabradhabi pressed a hand to the wound on its shoulder; the raw flesh knit itself closed. “Attacks like yours amount to nothing against me. If you imagine you can gnaw through my defenses with your teeth, you’re going to be disappointed. I’ll knock them out one by one and make you swallow them. Get ready.”

“But you still feel the pain. Don’t you?” Zooey breathed through her mouth and watched her arm come back. “I wanted to ask — is it familiar? That particular kind of pain?”

“Female. What do you mean?”

Patience. Don’t let it see my satisfaction — it’ll cut the pleasure short.

She couldn’t quite hold back the sound that came out. A laugh, low and private. “When you were nearly dead on the road, you should have felt it every day.” She pointed at the shoulder blade. “Stabbed there. Flesh peeled away. You were shaking hard — you must have been miserable.” She let the pause do its work. “I forgot to mention: I was the one caring for you the whole way.”

Bug!” Kabradhabi’s sword came up, fury in every line of its body. “I will crush you—”


The sixteenth day, possibly longer.

The dark ground was covered in blood — most of it reddish-brown, some of it black-blue. Broken limbs, scattered organs, and teeth — she had lost count of whose teeth — lay strewn across the floor. The lost parts regenerated before long, but the blood did not vanish, and the debris did not clear itself. They had both slipped on it, again and again, which had led to a discovery: she now had weapons.

One of her own thigh bones. Half of the demon’s spine.

The thigh bone worked like a short hammer. The spine, with its curve and heft, served well enough as a blade. As long as she avoided its magic sword directly, they held.

Four hundred years was sufficient time to become functional with almost anything.

And her preferred target remained the shoulder.

Pain was not proportional to the size of the wound. Some places simply held more of it than others.

“Take a rest if you need one,” Zooey said, looping the spine around her waist and flexing her numb wrists. “You have a long time ahead. No reason to rush.”

The demon said nothing. Its chest moved in deep, slow breaths; its scarlet eyes tracked her without blinking. The contempt that had been there at the beginning had gone somewhere else, replaced by something harder to name.

Their balance of power had not changed. The Senior Demon’s range of abilities ensured it remained the stronger fighter. Every strike Zooey landed cost her several times over in return. It was not unusual for her fingers to be broken, her belly torn open. Even so — something in the atmosphere had shifted.

She didn’t acknowledge the silence. “Can I ask — did you construct this space?”

The demon seemed willing to rest for a moment. Kabradhabi said, at length, “This is a stream of consciousness. A confluence of magic power and the soul. It doesn’t require construction. It forms. That’s not something a bug can easily grasp. Almost no one ever enters the stream of consciousness—”

“I’ve seen a larger one,” she said. “One as complete as a real world. Trees, sky, ground, weather. Nothing like this place. This place has nothing.”

Nonsense, female!” The roar was sharp and sudden. “Do you have any idea how much magic power constructing entities in the stream of consciousness requires? A complete world? Only the Fountain of Magic could do that!”

“The Fountain of Magic again.” Zooey took the spine from her waist and held it. “It’s like the domain of the gods. An idea everyone repeats as though they’ve seen it, but no one has.”

“It is engraved in the heritage! You know nothing of it!”

“Then explain it to me. Give me some evidence.”

“Female, do you think I’m a fool?” Kabradhabi’s voice cracked with outrage. “How could I, lord Kabradhabi, fall for such a clumsy—”

The spine took him through the head.

She’d thrown it while he was still mid-sentence. The white bone stood out against the darkness like something clean.

“If you’re not going to say anything, then the rest is over.” Zooey picked up the thigh bone and moved toward the staggering demon. “When you decide you want to talk, we can stop again.”


Dozens of days later.

“Why,” said Kabradhabi, and the word came out stripped of everything — the momentum, the sneering ease, the sense of a creature certain of its own superiority. It held its magic sword in front of its chest and watched her the way something watches a thing it cannot categorize. “Why don’t you fear the pain?”

“The war four hundred years ago made me familiar with it,” Zooey said. “Sleeping for four hundred years let me forget it. If you recovered something that had always been part of you — would you fear it?” She let the smile through. She didn’t need to suppress it anymore. “I should thank you, in fact. You’ve given me back something His Majesty Roland’s world couldn’t.”

“You’re insane — ”

“This is only a brief moment next to hundreds of years. Now it’s your turn to satisfy me.”

The moment her fingers drove into the demon’s chest, the world twisted. Blood, flesh, scattered bone — it all dissolved into nothing. A vertigo took her, massive and abrupt, and then—

She opened her eyes to the dome of the Third Border City.

Discussion

Suggest a change