Canticle: Code Caligula

Chapter 18: Birth of the Bloodstrider, Part 1

Behemoth stood up from his wooden throne as Mura ran across the table with a rising shout of ferocity. Reaching the end of his platform, Mura leaped up and crashed his fist into Behemoth's amused face with every amount of might he could assemble.

Bent over while standing atop the table, Mura straightened out his back; taking a moment to crack his knuckles.

"Party's over, Tenth."

Behemoth's massive frame spiraled backwards from the blow, flinging him into the lit stone hearth with a thunderous boom. Mura quickly unfused from Lilith, who appeared next to him on the table holding a dagger defensively.

Several drunk Odokuro stumbled from the act of violence while others stood from their seats in awe. Behemoth was out cold. Suzu rushed over to his side with a concerned shriek, only to be held at knife-point by Lilith.

"Who the hell is this guy?" Grendel lazily questioned, unmoved from his seat as his scantily-clad companions scrambled for safety.

"That's Bloodstrider Mura, the kid from the tournament!" Kishin happily shouted in a drunken stupor.

A woman clad in all black walked by the ruined entrance doors, inhaling from her pipe with careless abandon. It was Lamia the Black Witch, easily recognizable from the advertisements scattered around the city.

"He certainly knows how to make an entrance~" She crooned with a sultry, raspy voice.

Mura stretched his fingers, shaking off the pain that had come from direct contact with flesh and a chiseled jawline.

Suddenly a gunshot rang out, sending a bullet straight through the wooden roof above. The noise caught everyone by surprise, causing Mura to frantically check his body to see if he had been hit.

A man appearing in his late twenties twirled an ebony pistol in his hand with the careless ease only an expert would possess. He tossed it in the air, allowing it to flip three times before landing back into the brown leather holster hanging from his shoulders.

"Now that everyone is using their indoor etiquette, let us remember that this little pissant just assaulted Tenth! This ain't no laughing matter, kid. We hold a position equivalent to that of Commander within the Imperial Army!" He spat out, his voice base and powerful.

Mura turned to look at the man with the pistol. Now that inspected closer, he had four pistols. Two hanging from shoulder holsters attached to his upper torso and another two sheathed in matching carriers on each side of his hips.

He had a tan complexion to his skin, with auburn hair tied back into a ponytail. His bangs were styled together into the center of his forehead, touching a pair of tactical square sunglasses with tinted lenses. Completing his ensemble was a dark green trench coat, buttoned up entirely with a salmon cravat wrapped around his neck.

"Oh s-shut up, Wendigo," a heavily-inebriated Odokuro sputtered. "You think that j-just because... cause y-you're Eighth means you have some s-sort of authority, but you—"

Everything happened in a flash of blinding speed. Mura spotted a red blur from behind Wendigo's back and another gunshot rang out within the course of milliseconds. A gaping hole was left in the intoxicated Odokuro's throat, spurting blood as he grasped at his neck in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding. The others simply watched, shaken as Wendigo sauntered over to the choking, dying man before kneeling down. Wendigo smiled, flashing a grin of razor sharp teeth filed down to a point.

"This... is my authority," Wendigo said before opening his mouth inconceivably wide and chomping down on the man's head, crushing his skull in a single crunch.