Shroud Arcanum

Chapter 32: - Dawn

Zalya and Liora, having just contained the titan's spike bombardment, cast their eyes upon the devastated battlefield.

The golem lay in ruins, the aftermath of the brutal conflict evident in every direction. Once engaged in the fierce battle, the soldiers could only stand in horrified awe, their gazes fixed on the gruesome scene before them.

A singular figure stood out as dusk's orange and purple hues painted the sky, signaling the end of a day filled with unexpected and brutal combat. Irys, her armor cracked and partially shattered, dominated the landscape.

Bathed in the crimson of the setting sun and the Titan's blood, her short raven-black hair whipped wildly in the wind. With just one arm left, she relentlessly pounded the once fearsome titan's, transforming it into an unrecognizable pulp of flesh and splintered bone.

Her crimson eyes, fueled by an indomitable rage, seemed to pierce the very soul of the titan, willing it into oblivion. After a few minutes that felt like forever, the titan released a long, distorted wail and succumbed to its grievous wounds.

With urgency in her steps, Zalya sprinted to Irys, embracing her protectively from behind. The sight of her dear friend in such a state was heart-wrenching. "It's done, Irys. You've done enough," Zalya whispered, attempting to call her back to reality.

As Irys felt the familiar presence approach, her crimson eyes began to fade back to their original amber hue. The weight of the battle and her injuries caught up to her, and she would have collapsed if not for Zalya's steadfast support.

Weakly, her voice barely audible, Irys murmured, "Take me to Liam."

Zalya's brows furrowed in a mix of concern and incredulity. "After all this, he's your first thought? You pushed yourself to the brink for him? What's so special about a man we hardly know?"

Mustering the strength to meet Zalya's gaze, Irys responded, her voice frail, "Time can be used to build memories and bonds, Zalya. Without time, none of it matters. You and I know without me forcing it, we will all die here. As for why I feel this pull toward him, I can't explain it any more than you can. And you know I have no control when that 'berserk' side takes over."

Zalya recognized the truth in Irys's words with a resigned nod, though the anger still simmered beneath her gaze. Helping her wounded friend to her feet, she guided her slowly towards Liam. As they walked, she grumbled, "Alright, I'll concede that your feelings must be real for the 'berserk' to activate. But once he's up and about, I'll be giving him a piece of my mind. What was he thinking, rushing into battle without knowing the enemy's capabilities? Our survival hinged on not just efforts but sheer luck and all the sacrifices."

Irys, catching her breath, replied with a weary nod, "I agree, Zalya. He needs to learn, and learn fast. It'll help him stay alive in the battles to come."

On the other side, Liora was already mobilizing her forces. She swiftly approached Alric, who had a thick spike protruding from his shoulder. Without hesitation, Liora grasped the spike firmly, yanking it out swiftly. Alric grimaced in pain, "Ouch! Could you maybe be a bit gentler?"

Liora shot him a stern glance as her fingers glowed with healing light, sealing the bleeding wound. "This is no time for complaints; you are a soldier. With all this blood and carnage, it won't be long before more threats are drawn here."

Alric winced from the pain, but he knew she was right. Taking a deep breath, he responded, "Understood. I'll round up the wounded."

Simultaneously, a seasoned veteran barked to the young Ensign Caelum, who was visibly shaken up. "Caelum, rally the soldiers! We need to gather the wounded ASAP. Get some makeshift stretchers ready for those who can't walk on their own!"

Ensign Caelum took a deep breath, pushed back the horror of the recent battle, and focused on the task. He began shouting out commands, rallying those soldiers who could still move, "Let's move! We don't have the luxury of time. I need teams of two; one to carry the stretchers and another to look for the injured!"

Several soldiers hastily retrieved items resembling compact sticks. When extended, these sticks grew longer, and when paired with their counterpart, they activated a mechanism that transformed them into stretchers, an ingenious piece of battlefield equipment.

Others began combing the battlefield, looking for comrades still alive but too injured to move on their own. They started marking spots with flags or pieces of cloth for the stretcher teams to find and collect the wounded.

Amid the battlefield, a hushed stillness began to settle as soldiers went into action, their training and discipline evident. Those critically injured were swiftly carried to Liora, who applied immediate first aid and channeled her healing skills. Soldiers with lesser injuries took a moment to catch their breath while tending to their wounds using healing salves from their kits.

Zalya, with Irys supported at her side, soon reached Liam. Gently setting her down beside him, Irys, still weary from the recent fray, reached out to check Liam's vitals.

While not formally trained in medicine, her many brushes with injury on the battlefield had imparted her with a rudimentary understanding of medical care. And even though Liam was of a different species, she knew that most humanoid beings shared similar anatomical traits.

Feeling his steady pulse, relief washed over her; Liam was merely exhausted from the immense energy he had expended.

Exhausted from the relentless combat, she slowly lay on the ground. Observing this, Zalya, shaking her head, swiftly retrieved a glass vial filled with a shimmering red liquid from her pouch and handed it to Irys. With a groggy nod, Irys sat up just enough to down the potion. Almost instantly, the visible wounds on her body began to knit and heal, her complexion becoming healthier.

Zalya next retrieved a small container, which had a futuristic yet arcane design, and from it, she produced a pill. This wasn't any ordinary medication. Its intricate patterning suggested a blend of both advanced science and sophisticated magic. Irys took the pill without hesitation.

Moments later, the area where her arm had been began to regenerate, tissue and muscle growing at an accelerated rate, reconstructing the lost limb.

However, the exertion from the fight and the rapid healing left Irys immensely drained. She closed her eyes, intending to succumb to a restful slumber. Smirking slightly, Zalya muttered, "All these medicines and their costs will be billed to Liam."

Irys, without opening her eyes, responded with a dismissive shrug, murmuring, "Do whatever you think is best."

Zalya then turned her attention to Liam, who lay unconscious beside Irys. Gently pinching his cheeks, she pried open his lips and carefully poured the healing elixir into his mouth, ensuring he swallowed every drop. She then conjured a glistening metallic stretcher, its surface etched with runes and symbols that faintly glowed.

With precise hand movements, Zalya manipulated the stretcher to slide beneath both Liam and Irys. Once they were securely in place, she channeled her energy into the stretcher's runes, causing it to levitate just above the ground.

Guiding the floating stretcher, she made her way towards Liora and the rest of the group.

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