Chapter 105: CHPT 105: Joy
Cool winds laced their way through the trees and over the forest floor, bringing in scents of greenery, animals, blood and meat.
The night sky was painted in detailed shades of black, navy blues and warm oranges as the sun rose in the east.
Claude didn't even remember how he got to where he currently was. All he knew is he was tired.
Sometime between when he killed the first Skeleton giant and the second, his consciousness shut him out completely— letting a more primal and monstrous version of himself take control. All he retained were his strongest ideals and emotions that kept him going even when his legs screamed in pain and his mana was sapped from his body.
All he remembered was being motionless— swimming, in the violent murky red sea of his own hatred that never seemed to leave him while a voice silently promised not to let anyone else die. It took him a moment to realize the deep and intense voice was his own in that moment. His voice echoed from nowhere across the sea of hatred he was drowning in, and then suddenly, he was back.
He hadn't moved since he woke up. Kneeling on the floor with Bane of the Undead stabbing through a pile of dust into the ground.
He looked up from the floor and noticed his hand was still transformed— holding the blade in a crushing grip. Surprisingly, it was mostly healed aside from a few scrapes and scabs in the dark leathery skin.
After staring at his hand for a few seconds, he became aware of a rhythmic sound of breathing behind him. Small and quick breaths followed the sequence of bigger and more expansive breaths in a slow calming cadence.
He weakly got up with a pained groan. Immediately, he heard rustling and movement behind him. He turned around and found the pack standing at attention while they looked at him with their ears flat and tails wagging. Frosty sat calmly by Claude.
"[Looks like you didn't just save the cabins.]" Arne said.
"Yea..." Claude responded exhaustedly.
Almost as soon as he finished speaking, he could hear the echoing hoots of Owls and other species of birds flying overhead, and the tiny steps of rodents roaming the forest floor. Like all life was simply holding its breath— lying in wait, for the chance to emerge again.
Claude's listening to the forest was interrupted by the pack splitting apart to let the large scarred white Wolf approach him.
They all lowered their gazes and stayed out of its way, still understanding its previous rank as Alpha.
As it approached, Claude kneeled once again so he was more or less face to face with it. The Wolf stood in front of him, eyeing him with its wild yellow eyes.
"Thank you for your help. You saved my life." Claude said before reaching out and gently running his hands over the scarred fur on its head. The Wolf leaned into his touch and stepped forward so it's muscled head met his own.
As he sat with the Wolf, he got the oddest feeling that told him the Wolf was a female. The thought brought a wave of sadness.
"She's probably gotten a lot of these scars from trying to protect her kids." He realized.
Once he raised his head, he saw two Wolves almost as big as her, standing behind her. One was almost completely white while the other was wrapped in shades of grey and white with strong beautiful eyes.
"At least she was able to protect some." He thought before the Wolf licked his face and backed away.
Claude stood up just in time to see the Wolf begin sniffing around towards Frosty. As soon as she found Frosty, they licked each others faces and nibbled on each other in a common way of showing endearment.
"[Unbelievable....]" Arne said while they watched Frosty socialize with the female wolf.
"What?" Claude replied.
"[The furball has more game than you. It's unbelievable.]"
"Piss off." Claude said jokingly.
***
After leading the pack away from the trail and saying their goodbyes, Claude and Frosty found themselves walking the path back towards the cabins under the black, blue and orange colored sky.
During their walk, Claude realized he was still holding Bane of the Undead. The blade reminded him of the fight, it reminded him of how he even got it.
He suddenly reached over and patted Frosty's side in a show of silent appreciation. Frosty did more than he knew. He didn't only save the small group of families from death, but also Claude's mind.
***
By the time they emerged from the forest and walked through the field, Claude sheathed his sword and tried to focus on reversing his transformation to be able to walk comfortably among people again. He was successful in reverting everything back except his right hand.
"Arne, why isn't it changing back?" Claude asked in reference to his hand.
"[Pain and exhaustion often affect our control. Once you've recovered a bit more, your hand will go back to normal.]" Arne replied.
Claude sighed and positioned his cloak to the side so it would cover his arm as he headed towards the cabins.
The smell of meat strengthened as he entered the small neighborhood of cabins and ruined carriages.
He could see light emanating from all the windows of the buildings. One tall and withered old man stood on the porch closest to him, looking at him through squinted eyes with confusion and disbelief.
"He did it! By god he did it!" The man began to yell while stomping his cane into the wooden porch beneath him.
Claude was too tired and in pain to care and simply kept painfully walking through the neighborhood.
In response to the man's yelling, other families stepped out onto their porches until everyone of the cabins had groups of people standing in front of them. Kids, old people, babies held by their siblings or parents, and even teenagers all stood out in in the cool early morning air staring at him.
Claude and Frosty stopped as the furthest cabin door swung open and Dante came stomping out.
"Mr...Mr Hero! You really did it! How'd you do it!? Was it easy?!" The boy yelled as he ran up to him. His family followed in his wake, smiling faintly.
"Forgive my son. He's a bit of a fanatic when it comes to Heroes." Dante's mother said. Her silky brown vibrant brown hair was pulled away from her face to show the relieved— yet wary, smile on her face. Her similar colored brown eyes and tanned skin matched that of her two daughters and Dante.
"Wait.....you smell like...b-blood..." Dante said with a look of sadness on his face.
His mother looked from her son to him and raised her lantern to see his condition for the first time.
"Oh!" She said before stepping back. "What happened to you?...." She whispered with glossy eyes.
The people surrounding them leaned in, waiting for him to spill a sort of fantastical story of battle between the giants and how he escaped without a scratch.
"I got my ass kicked." Claude said flatly.
"Haha! Assh kicked!" One of Dante's little sisters mocked incorrectly.
Dante's mother ignored them and looked at him oddly for a moment.
"Why...?" She asked as a tear slid down her face.
"I have my reasons. Apparently bring a Hero isn't enough." He relied.
She chuckled at his response, seeming to understand what he meant perfectly. "Well, we can't just let you walk out of here with all those scrapes and cuts. Let me get some bandages and food for you to take." She said before wiping her tears.
"No, no, that's al—" Claude was cut off by Dante's mother serving him a glare sharp enough to cut diamonds.
"Ehrm...I could eat something I guess.." He said.
"Mhm." Dante's mother replied before briskly walking back to her cabin.
Claude was snapped out of watching her leave by the families of the neighborhood erupting in cheers and claps. The Skeletons had been around for a while, a fear looming in the back of their minds for months. Now, for the first time, that fear was freed. It was prime time for a celebration.
He looked around at the families all wearing expressions of relief and happiness as they celebrated between each other.
The oddest feeling crept up from the depths of his stomach and into his throat, it made his heart sting and filled him with overwhelming energy. It took him a moment to realize his eyes were watering.
He was unable to continue to hold back his tears as Arne spoke to him amidst the cheers and hoots of the saved families.
"[You've done some good once again, Claude. Your father would be proud.]"
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