The Chronicles of Marum - The Primordial

Desert of blood (Ózis) - Part II

ACT III

The violence of the confrontation, the swiftness with which everything happened, leaves me paralyzed, both physically and mentally. I struggle to maintain consciousness, while blood continues to flow, forming a pool around me.

The blueish creature's mockery cuts through the cold, dense air of Arcríris. "I expected more from one of Máterum's firstborn!" The scorn in its voice spits at my vulnerability, as it casually rests against the sword still stuck in the sand, stained with my blood. It looks at me with contempt, as if disappointed by the ease of victory.

Lying on the cold ground, I feel the overwhelming weight of defeat. My body sinks into the spreading pool of blood. The place where my left arm should be burns with unbearable pain, a void pulsating with each beat of my heart. The deep cut on my thigh and abdomen sends waves of sharp pain through my body.

Against all logic and my wounded body's pleas, I begin to rise. I support myself on my right arm, trembling under the effort, like a branch about to break. The strength to stand comes from an unknown place, fueled by adrenaline and refusal to accept defeat. My eyes, blurred with pain, fix on the bloody stump of my amputated arm. The sight is grotesque, tendons exposed, skin torn irregularly.

I stand trembling, panting, each breath a challenge. Blood flows down what's left of my arm, dripping onto the sand, forming a dark trail. The pain is almost unbearable, a constant torture threatening to overwhelm me. But despite the physical agony, I do not allow myself to give up. The humiliation of being defeated so easily, the threat to my life, all fuel a burning desire to resist, to fight, to survive this cruel night on Arcríris.

Each of my breaths tears through Arcríris's icy air, heavy and irregular, a dark mist rising from my trembling lips. Desperation surrounds me like a merciless specter, its dark presence threatening to engulf me entirely. Pain, fear, uncertainty, all mix into a desperation threatening to overwhelm me. "How did this happen?" The question echoes in my mind, a trembling voice of incredulity and terror.

With a delirious effort, I force calm upon myself. "Calm. Calm! CALM!" I mentally order, trying to push away the spreading panic. My right hand, now the only one left, moves with trembling determination. Undoing the sheath of the dagger, and with agile but painful movements, I cover the bloody stump of my left arm. "It won't last long, but it's enough for now," I murmur, each word an effort, an attempt to stay focused and lucid despite the searing pain.

I look at the blueish being, noticing its relaxed posture mocking my state. "He is very fast, I wasn't even able to see his movements," I recognize, the reality of the situation becoming ever clearer. Despite the unbearable pain and blood loss, I strive to stand, using all my willpower not to fall.

I hold the primordial dagger firmly in my right hand. "The fight... the fight isn't over yet," I declare, my voice a hoarse warning of despair. "I need to distract him as soon as possible, or I'll end up dead," I think, as a desperate strategy begins to form in my mind. Every movement is calculated, every thought focused on surviving this unequal fight. Pain and fear become fuel for my persistence.

My bare feet sink into the red sand, each grain seeming to unite with my cause. I look at my opponent, whose white eyes seem devoid of feelings. He moves with arrogant confidence, certain of his victory. But even in this state of weakness, I refuse to be easy prey.

The primordial dagger in my right hand is the last fragment of my resistance. "He may be faster, but he doesn't seem very intelligent. However, I won't be able to beat him in this state. I have to escape," I plan quickly, my mind working feverishly despite the chaos around.

The living planet, in its arrogance, seems to enjoy the situation. "Honestly, I'm quite impressed," it admits, a mocking smile forming on its lips. "I didn't think you'd resist the attack of the primordial sword," it says, its deep blue eyes fixed on me, the smile disappearing, replaced by a somber expression. "Unfortunately, I have to finish this quickly. Don't be scared, but know that only one will come out alive tonight. And I tell you in advance: it will be me," it states, and with an agile movement, pulls the sword from the sand, raising a cloud of red dust.