Chapter 12

Hudson roared in agony, yet never begged for mercy. Instead, with the last remnants of his sanity, he shouted at Winona, "Run! Stop standing there like an idiot!" His voice was hoarse, and his face was smeared with blood, making it almost too painful to look at. "Aren't you one of those Awakened? Then, damn well run! We can't let these beasts survive! Just go! Come back and avenge me later!" Each word was dragged out with every ounce of strength he had left. Winona stood frozen, staring at him with teary eyes. Yes, Awakened—the secret protectors of this world, fighting silently on the frontlines, sacrificing themselves to guard the peace of this land. But what was she doing right now? Letting an innocent, ordinary person die for her while she continued to wallow in cowardice—never able to face the beasts. She drew a deep breath, wiped away her tears, and gripped her scythe tightly. When she raised her head again, her eyes still harbored fear, but there was now a glint of resolve and calm determination within them. She charged toward the beast that was tearing Hudson apart, her long silver hair streaming in the wind. "Execution Mode: Begin!" Her voice trembled as she forced her body to move, leaping high into the air. The scythe in her hands gleamed coldly, slicing down viciously on the beast's arm. The sound of the blade meeting flesh had never been so satisfying. The beast let out a howl of pain. Its right arm was severed cleanly with blood spurting everywhere. Hudson's body dropped heavily to the ground. The beast roared, a mix of rage, terror, and… mockery. Yes, mockery. The beast's expression twisted into scorn as if it found the whole situation to be a ridiculous farce. It leaned back slightly, its massive jaw splitting open into a grotesque grin. Then came the sound—a chilling cackle echoing through the deserted alleyway. It was the sound of a beast laughing at the futility and absurdity of Winona's resistance. She gripped her weapon tighter, her entire body drenched in cold sweat. Her nightgown was soaked through, clinging uncomfortably to her skin with a mixture of sweat and blood. The beast suddenly lunged, its mutilated form crossing the distance between them in the blink of an eye. Its razor-sharp claws aimed straight at her face. Winona dodged to the side, narrowly evading a fatal strike. But just as she thought she'd avoided the attack, her eyes widened in shock, pupils contracting in utter terror. A new, sinister steel blade emerged from the gaping wound where its arm had been, gleaming with icy menace. Blood sprayed as the blade plunged into her chest with horrifying precision. She felt a cold numbness in her chest, followed by an unbearable, searing pain that radiated through her entire body. She tried to call for help, but only faint, choking gasps escaped her lips. ... Hudson, barely clinging to consciousness, found himself slumped against a brick wall. The pain of his severed arm was excruciating, far worse than the agony of having his heart ripped out the night before. For some reason, his regenerative abilities had suddenly failed him. What unsettled him even more, though, was the absence of any battle sounds nearby. Instead, he heard a soft dripping of something warm landing on his head, and sliding down his face. Blood. He trembled as he looked up. What he saw would be burned into his memory forever: the face of Winona, still as beautiful as ever, now painted with blood. She was suspended in midair with a steel blade skewering her chest, her body jerking weakly in its death throes. Her once flawless face had gone pale and blank like a lifeless doll. Hudson felt his heart stop beating entirely. His mind went blank, and his world drained of all color. A crushing wave of grief and fear engulfed him, choking the air from his lungs, and making his world spin. The beast, seemingly savoring the moment, let her body slowly slide down the blade, dropping her limp form into Hudson's arms. "Hud… son…" Winona struggled to lift her head, her eyes dull and glassy, yet briefly lighting up when she saw he was alive. A faint smile tugged at her bloodied lips. "I'm here…" Hudson held her as tightly as he could with his remaining shaky hand. But he could feel her warmth slipping away. The blade had pierced her heart. She was beyond saving. "Thank goodness... you're okay…" Her voice was faint, each word sapping her strength. Blood trickled from her mouth, trailing down her chin, staining her pale face crimson. "It's all because of you… that I'm fine. You protected me... So you can't… let anything happen to you... You hear me? "Hud... son..." she whispered weakly, trying to lift her hand but finding no strength. He quickly grasped it. She continued, "What you said earlier... on the balcony... Was it true, or... were you just messing with me...?" Hudson didn't need clarification. He knew exactly what she was referring to. He nodded desperately, his voice breaking. "It's true... it's all true. If you're willing, we can... we can keep going... forever." Relief softened her pale, bloodied features. She gave him one last serene smile, her eyes full of unspoken emotions. "I... I wanted to eat your mom's cooking one more time…" And then her eyes closed. She never opened them again. Hudson stared at her lifeless face, his mind an empty void. He wanted to scream, to stop it all from happening, but his grief choked him, silencing every sound. The beast was amused and let out a wild, deranged laugh as if thoroughly enjoying the tragic scene. Then it began to approach Hudson, every step squelching in the blood pooling beneath it. A storm of emotion erupted inside Hudson. His anger burned hotter than ever, consuming his insides like a raging inferno. Rage, regret, helplessness, and crushing sorrow. He hated the cruelty of this world. He hated the unfairness of fate. But most of all, he hated himself for his utter powerlessness. That long-restrained fury reached its breaking point, ready to explode. His body trembled violently, his fists clenching until his nails pierced his palms, and blood started dripping down. The beast's manic laughter pushed him over the edge. Suddenly, the world around Hudson faded to black and white. Everything lost its color—except for the crimson of the beast's blood and the pale lifelessness of Winona's face. A searing pain ripped through Hudson's body. He let out a guttural scream, collapsing to the ground in agony. Every bone in his body creaked and cracked as if about to shatter. Muscles spasmed, and organs churned as though being wrung dry. He writhed on the ground with sweat and tears, soaking the dirt beneath him. Then, his transformation began. His skin turned deathly pale as ivory bones erupted from his flesh, encasing him like armor. The severed arm regenerated, a skeletal structure forming and hardening into a fearsome limb. Finally, a bone helm enclosed his head, transforming him into a towering monstrosity nearly seven feet tall. His frame was immense, clad entirely in white bone plates with jagged protrusions at every joint. And in the hollows of his bone helm, two azure flames burned bright. A wave of force rippled outward, potent and suffocating. Far away, hunters across the city from various factions paused simultaneously. Some sat atop a pile of infected corpses, lifting their heads with a crooked smile. Another man adjusted his glasses after he paused his typing and walked to the window, staring into the distance. Someone wearing a cowboy hat tilted his hat and crushed his beer bottle as his eyes sharpened with newfound clarity. All of them felt it—a beast's presence. A terrifying one. This presence wasn't just any threat—it was an Abyssal-Class Beast. But the beast before Hudson was oblivious to this shift. It hesitated, cautiously stepping closer to the white creature, seemingly unsure if it was real. Reaching out with a claw, the beast tapped the bone plating on Bonewarden's—Hudson's—chest. Although this new creature, clad in white, bone-like armor, was towering in size, it was still slightly inferior in comparison to it—or so the beast thought. The beast tilted its grotesque head, then laughed again, a grating, gurgling sound echoing through the still alley. Raising its steel-tipped arm, it struck down hard at the white creature's skull. The blade sliced through the air with lethal precision— But a skeletal hand shot up, lightning-fast, intercepting the strike. The steel blade shattered on impact, shards embedding themselves in the concrete ground beneath them. The beast's eyes widened in shock, disbelief freezing its twisted features. It staggered back, overwhelmed by a fear it hadn't felt in ages. For once, its arrogance had betrayed it. Tonight's unchecked slaughter had dulled its instincts, its caution. And now it was too late. The creature of bone turned its head with a wave of deathly intent. It took heavy, deliberate steps one after another, advancing toward the beast. Each step made the ground tremble, each one seemingly stomping directly on the beast's heart. In the next instant, a hand clad in bone-like armor shot out like lightning, gripping the beast's throat with unrelenting force. The strength was terrifying as if it intended to crush the beast's windpipe entirely. The beast let out a pained howl, thrashing desperately, its claws raking wildly at Bonewarden's arm. But it was futile—it couldn't leave even the slightest mark on that white armor. The very next moment, the creature's other hand drove straight through the beast's abdomen. Amid the beast's agonized screams, Bonewarden tore its body apart, ripping it in half. The beast's flesh was shredded, its tendons snapping while its bones splintered, scattering black and crimson entrails across the ground. The beast didn't even have time to let out a final cry before it died miserably at the hands of this monstrous being. But the carnage didn't end there. Bonewarden crouched down, plunging a hand into the torn remains of the beast, rummaging through the gore for something. Before long, it found its target—a pitch-black crystal, emanating a murky, evil presence. Then, it shattered the black crystal with great force. Swirling black energy poured into the giant bone creature's body, and the transformation began. Its tailbone erupted with frantic growth, extending into a steel-like tail that dragged along the ground. Moments later, it took heavy steps toward Winona. It slowly knelt beside her, its bony hand gently brushing against her cold, lifeless cheek. Then, suddenly, Bonewarden moved its hand to its chest. The bone armor opened slowly, revealing its body within. Its hand pierced its own chest, blood flowing freely and staining the white armor crimson. It then pulled out a dark green crystal from within itself and carefully pressed it against Winona's chest, where all traces of life had already faded. Time passed as the crystal was gradually absorbed into Winona's lifeless body. Bonewarden lowered its head, gazing at Winoa lying motionless on the cold ground. Her body had completely lost all vitality. Her once-pure white dress was soaked through with blood. Her messy hair was matted with blood with strands sticking to her pale cheeks. Her beautiful eyes remained shut, her long eyelashes stained with droplets of blood, as though they would never flutter open again. Bonewarden gently cradled Winona's body in its arms as if holding a fragile porcelain doll. Her body, limp and lifeless, rested weightlessly in its embrace. Carrying her with great care, it walked out of the stench-filled alley. The night wind blew softly, stirring up dust and scattered debris. Pale moonlight illuminated the giant's skeletal frame, glinting off the bloodstains on its bone armor. As it stepped out of the alley, a revolver barrel was suddenly pressed against its forehead. "My goodness." A man wore an excited smile and touched his cowboy hat. He seemed extremely interested in the creature before him. "It's an Abyssal-Class beast, how lucky!" As he slowly moved his gaze to the dead girl in its arm, the man's smile stiffened. He asked, "What on earth did you do?"