Reaper's Crown

Ch. 128

Ennyou yelled out, consumed by, most likely, pure anger, opposing their calm, Shi Hon-like words.

The branches moved below the sand, climbing from below and raising Rowan's flying body into the tops of this entire, massive, spider-like creature, bending, twisting, forming a knot.

A light gleamed inside the cylinder, and Rowan turned, haphazardly, pulling another arrow out of their arsenal. When another second passed, they let go, flawlessly, as it spiralled right inside, and much like the curves, followed a path opposing, fighting the light.

When the bolt managed to squeeze through, the entire bony-branch structure shook, immediately falling apart at the seams, sending Rowan flying upwards again, before a heavy wind drafted from below, followed by a dune almost pushing them towards Ennyou.

Ennyou grinned again, despite the earlier vows. His emotions were, in one way or another, extremely complicated at the very moment. He wanted to triumph, and certainly, he was winning. Yet, the simple thought of Rowan continuously finding a way to outsmart him made him only grow more limbs, and find different means of eliminating his opponent.

The Tributal bounced off with another arrow shot at the ground, spreading a thick fire, elevating Rowan's back towards what they could call Ennyou's bone legs. They leapt, grabbing a part and clenching their fist, as hard as possible. The black fire momentarily disappeared, instead replaced by both visible shrunken eyes, as well as something resembling a handcuff and a chain, forming around Rowan's wrist.

At the same time they gritted their teeth, another bony limb came in, and much like the same chain, found itself wrapped around Rowan, pulling. It took a couple of heaps of strength, with a sound of something ripping apart but there they were again, now in the tight clench of Ennyou's wrath.

Ennyou immediately turned, eyes shrunken the same way Rowan's were. There it was again, the black fire forming right beneath Rowan's glass, engulfing most of their face in the same colour.

Ennyou groaned, with the sound echoing downwards towards the dunes, sending them flying up, forming a tornado around the entire skeleton, as well as the prisoner. Rowan didn't try to wiggle to escape. Instead, they simply stared, awaiting his next move.

The Tributal looked around for a bit, before the formation beneath moved closer to the held limb. There Rowan and Ennyou were, now both sure of the person they were facing on the other side. A ginger beard, but hair swept to the same side it always has been. Those eyes, that mouth, those big cheekbones that no one else in the family had.

But beneath that thick surface, they couldn't find the same shine which once was there. That thirst for knowledge, a hesitation with their answer. Ennyou's eyes were as black as the flame, which only constantly grew, spreading further and further, with Rowan furrowing their brows.

"Admittedly, I can't cast Tributal magic the same way you can," Ennyou commented, with the bone obtusively moving in to squeeze Rowan's fingers. "Or maybe it's just that I didn't have enough time to truly learn the ins and outs. But you did, and I'm sure Ambrosia had it in herself too."

"Themselves." Rowan closed one eye, muttering.

"Surely, if that's what concerns you. People like you only find themselves trapped in weakness, guilt, and expectations from the world. However, right now, the only thing I'd recommend to a friend is to search for that opportunity. To make things right, even if it hurts."

"You're not..." Rowan coughed out, blood spilling on some of the bone. Ennyou opened his mouth. "You're not their saviour. You're not perfect and you'll never be."

"That's why I'm vowing to kill you. Harness all of that same power Ambrosia lent me."

Rowan ground their teeth.