Unmade Chapter 14: Chapter 14: Green Glow

Read chapter 14 of Unmade by churro on NovelPedia.

In a vast ocean of blood, bound by obsidian mountains that stretched farther than the eye could see, two men fought beneath a pale, unmoving sky. Above them hung five black suns, silent sentinels that watched their every movement as their battle raged on. The younger of the two was a boy with pitch-black hair and pale, almost ghostly eyes. His skin, a shade too white to be natural, was scarred from countless wounds and memories of deaths that refused to last. His opponent was a man wrapped in chains. A mask of pure obsidian concealed his face smooth and featureless, except for the single golden sun engraved at its center. It watched Vale unblinking, a false eye that glowed faintly in the gloom. The chained man’s right arm was clad in shattered armor, and from his waist hung tattered black cloth that trailed across the blood’s surface like smoke. Dozens of broken weapons were impaled through his body, their jagged edges gleaming faintly, yet he moved as though untouched, every motion deliberate and graceful. Their blades met again and again, the sound ringing across the sea like thunder. Sparks scattered and Blood rippled. Each exchange carried the weight of centuries. Vale gritted his teeth, pushing forward with all the strength his body could muster. But the gap between them was immeasurable. The chained man parried with effortless precision, his movements flowing like water. Vale’s attacks grew frantic, desperate stabs, wide swings, until, with one elegant motion, the man’s blade flashed. Vale’s head separated cleanly from his neck. His body fell onto the crimson surface with a quiet splash. The blood rippled outward, holding him. For a moment, there was silence. Then, movement. Three metallic creatures stirred at the edge of the battlefield, a white cat, a crimson centipede, and a black, thorn-covered lizard. They rushed toward Vale’s body as it collapsed, their movements strangely tender. The cat brushed against his shoulder; the centipede coiled around his arm; the lizard pressed its head against his chest. It almost looked like mourning. Or affection. The blood beneath him began to churn. His neck reformed, muscle fibers stitching, veins rethreading, flesh sealing shut until his head was whole once more. Within seconds, Vale’s eyes opened again, reflecting the pale, colorless sky. He lay there for a moment, staring upward at the clouds, crimson and black, shifting lazily around the black suns. The three creatures climbed over his chest, chirping softly as if congratulating him. Vale groaned, sitting up and rubbing his neck. “That was my best time yet, wasn’t it?” he said hoarsely. The chained man crossed his arms and gave a single nod. “Twenty-three seconds,” Vale muttered with a grin. “Not bad. Not bad at all.” The man tilted his head slightly, perhaps agreeing, perhaps merely humoring him. They had grown strangely accustomed to one another in this endless place. opponents, yet bound by something deeper than battle. Vale ran his hand along the white cat’s back as the centipede and lizard tangled playfully on his lap. “So,” he said, glancing up, “how many times have I died again? I stopped counting after five thousand.” The chained man gave a shrug, then raised both hands and held up eight fingers. “Eight thousand, huh?” Vale said, blinking in disbelief. “Figures.” A soft laugh escaped him. “It’s weird. Even though I keep dying, I can feel myself improving a little each time. But somehow… you do too.” He leaned forward, curious. “You’ve been holding back on me, haven’t you?” This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. The man gave a small nod. A grin spread across Vale’s face. “I knew it. You’ve been toying with me this whole time.” There was no malice in his tone, only excitement. The challenge thrilled him, even though failure meant death. And he had failed eight thousand times already. Vale stood, brushing the creatures gently aside. “Then…” He looked at the masked man, eyes burning with det