Chapter 19: War Part 10- Mocked
The air reeked of iron and smoke, thick enough that every breath felt like inhaling rusted nails. Blood soaked the churned earth underfoot, mixing with ash and shattered armor, turning the battlefield into a nightmarish mosaic of destruction.
"Why the hell are you here, Human?!" Tara roared, her voice hoarse but still sharp enough to slice through the din of war.
Lucy met her furious glare with a cold, blank stare.
The sight of her gave him pause—Tara's spotted fur was drenched in blood, her long brown hair clinging to her battered face in sweaty, filthy strands.
Ragged cuts marred her arms and legs, the raw red of torn flesh peeking through her ruined armor. The pungent stench of blood clung to her, thickening the already suffocating air between them.
"You can thank me later," Lucy said flatly, his voice stripped of warmth. "Besides... you look terrible."
The words slipped out harsher than he intended, but he couldn't summon the energy to care, not after everything. Not after the endless waves of disdain he kept swallowing down.
Tara's amber eyes flared with fresh rage. She jabbed a clawed finger just inches from his face.
"I don't need your help! And if I look terrible, you look abysmal!"
Lucy's jaw tensed. She wasn't wrong.
He looked like a corpse that refused to stay down. Cuts from Ayas's relentless blade crisscrossed his battered body. Blood trickled down the deep gash slashed over his left eye, blurring half his vision. His once wild and defiant black hair now hung in heavy, red-soaked clumps. His silver armor was cracked, dented, and stained so deeply with blood it reflected the battlefield in dark, twisted patterns.