hydra | svt

CHAPTER FORTY NINE.

wonwoo

the seconds stretch into minutes and it becomes harder to work out how long we've been fighting for. seungkwan and i do our best to shelter from the tsunami of death that currently surrounds us; we struggle to find any sort of solace from the open frostbitten field and i chant small prayers under my breath as i teleport us yet again to a barren patch.

it's getting harder to support seungkwan too, who grows ill with my constant attempts at teleporting us to safety. still, his grip on my bicep is like a vice even as we dodge the chunks of black ice that lie under the crystalline snow, ready to snare us.

"are you okay?" i wheeze out for possibly the hundredth time tonight. as it had been for the past ninety-nine times asked, seungkwan responds with a firm nod although the colour is evidently drained from his face. i curse somewhat loudly, startling both him and myself.

i quickly regain my composure.

"sorry," i mumble. seungkwan doesn't reply; it seems like he's on the brink of cursing like a sailor too.

suddenly, an anguished cry tears our attention away from each other and we frantically search the field for the source - it proves difficult to see past the settling blizzard and i shout loudly for my friends.

"it's hansol!" someone calls back, though i'm not sure who. seungkwan and i exchange a glance before he latches onto my arm again and i use the trickling remains of my magic to teleport us closer to the chaos happening on the battlefield.

the first thing that hits us is the stench: the stench of rotting flesh, blood and dirt all saturate under my nose to create one nauseating funk that sends me reeling. i begin hacking immediately, eyes watering and lungs burning.

"hansol?" i manage to call out, straining for a response.

it's hard to make anything out but the squeals of the wild pigs, the slicing of claws through thin air and the grunts and groans of my battered friends. if i'm almost out of power, they're probably on the brink of collapsing from exhaustion.

i'm seconds away from calling again when i hear it: a feeble cry coming from a few meters in front of us. with all the creatures surrounding us thankfully occupied, seungkwan and i make a break for it and dash blindly ahead.

i almost trip over hansol. he's lying face up in the snow (good, better than face-down), which is speckled with crimson (not so good). in a panic i kneel beside him and check his pulse. it's still quite prominent which puts me slightly at ease and i enlist seungkwan's help to move hansol away from danger.

his hands, white skin stretched over trembling bones, still firmly grip his sword. i transfer it into my own, suddenly sick of standing by and watching my friends sacrifice their lives.

seungkwan seems to know what i'm thinking already. "go, i'll take care of him."

i nod goodbye, darting across the field. it's covered in more green than before and every step in the little patches of spring make me feel more and more rejuvenated.

coming face to face with these god-awful wild pigs is not something i recommend but with a sloppy swing, i manage to slice into the one that had charged straight for me. it's hardly enough to kill it and it suddenly hits me how hard i'm going to have to work to stay alive.

the wild pig reels back in pain but not even a second passes before it's raring to go again, its hot breath clouding in the air. i toughen my resolve, getting into a more stable position as the handle of the sword burns into my palms.

"c'mon then, you bastard."

it doesn't take my insult lightly, contorting it's neck as it puffs out another cloud of wet breath. i grit my teeth as i brace for impact, mustering as much strength as i can to make my attack worth it.