Berserk: The Prophet

“Thran…where is he? Cough cough, he should still be fighting with the demons…” Grimm’s bloodshot eyes widened suddenly. He couldn’t catch his breath, and his urgent words caused the blood in his throat to choke into his lungs, making him cough violently.

"...We didn't see him." Akasha and her companions looked around but didn't notice anything unusual, though they did hear the sound of horses' hooves.

"Silver Knights, Vilian."

A small squad of knights in gleaming silver armor arrived at the scene and quickly discovered Grimm and his companions among the wreckage of the battle.

"...Did you kill these two demons?"

Vilian noticed the burns on the demon's body that could only be caused by mithril, and several knights came to Grin and the others.

“...Yes,” Akasha replied.

Sunlight filtering through the clouds shone on the Silver Knight's armor, so dazzling it almost blinded Grimm's already weary eyes. His throat felt constricted, as if he couldn't catch his breath, and even when he was in a hurry to speak, he had to take a couple of breaths first.

"...Have you seen any other demons? I remember three flew over here." The leader, Vilian, lifted the visor of his helmet and asked.

"Cough cough, uh..."

Green tried to move to show them the way, but found that his arms were completely numb, and even speaking was extremely difficult. He felt dizzy and almost fainted. Thranduil...

Seeing this, Aikasa quickly helped Green sit up. It took Green a while to catch his breath before his vision returned to normal. The feeling of being dizzy and lightheaded became more and more obvious. He looked up to guide the Silver Knights and then looked at the leader, Vilian.

"Is it over there?"

Vilian glanced at the road Grimm had pointed out, and saw Grimm nod twice. He then led a small group of knights behind him and rode off, splashing up a cloud of mud. Not far along, they saw deep demon footprints and gave chase.

"Damn it, so what if they're riding horses and wearing all that gear? Pshaw!" Osman, splattered with mud, muttered under his breath as they drove away.

Green finally seemed to breathe a sigh of relief and completely passed out.

..................

Deep in the jungle.

The demon chased Seranty for a long distance, and several old trees were broken in two or cut in half by the demon's rampage.

"Is all you can do to run away? Coward!!"

Wenger roared furiously through the dense forest, never expecting this human to be as cunning as a rat in a dark ditch!

"Whoosh whoosh!"

Three more arrows shot out from behind the boulder, piercing Wenger's arm like toothpicks.

"Ugh! You wretched little mouse!!"

The boulder was instantly sent flying by Wenger's powerful right arm, but Seranti had long since disappeared without a trace.

Wenger roared angrily, his two giant wings whipping up a gale. From the very beginning, the cunning little creature had been hiding in the dense forest, occasionally wounding it with arrows.

I don’t know if it’s because of some kind of racial trait, but fighting in the jungle is as easy as going back to my hometown. The hands that I inherited from the elves can easily climb up the treetops, and those sharp nails can extend when needed.

Seranti was hiding behind a huge oak tree, breathing very lightly. His quiver was almost empty of arrows; he had six rounds left.

Calming his racing heart, Seranti decided to continue his battle of attrition with the demon. He knew that against a demon in this form, defeating it meant simply exhausting its energy.

Seranti held an arrow in his mouth, with two other arrows ready to be drawn, allowing him to change positions and attack at any time. After pinpointing Wenger's location, he climbed up a thick tree branch and drew the bowstring again, firing three arrows.

Wenger, having learned from the constant sneak attacks, began to calm down and listen carefully to the sounds around him. This time, he dodged two arrows flying towards him, but one arrow still struck Wenger's leg.

Wenger's anger was completely ignited, and he immediately flapped his wings and rushed towards Seranti. Seranti also rushed towards the other end of the canopy. The huge impact instantly broke off the thick branches of the oak tree, and even the tree itself trembled. He almost lost his footing and fell.

Seranti untied the spare grappling hook from his waist, and as he ran, he threw it into the canopy of another tree, swinging like a pendulum as he disappeared into the canopy under the cover of dense foliage.

Seeing no trace of Seranti lying on the ground on the huge broken branch, Wenger snorted angrily and scanned Seranti's figure from the top of the tree canopy. Time was running out for him.

Wenger bent down to sniff the lingering scent in the tree trunk, following Seranti's trail. It soon bared its teeth and leaped towards another tree canopy, only to miss.

Seranti breathed heavily, realizing he couldn't keep running away. He gripped his bow and arrow tightly, knowing he had to find an opportunity to deliver the fatal blow to Wenger.

As Wenger searched around, Seranti quietly appeared from behind the tree canopy, drew back his bowstring, aimed at Wenger's back, and the arrowhead gleamed coldly, heading straight for Wenger's vitals.

"Roar!!"

This arrow did indeed penetrate deeper than the others, almost... almost hitting its heart and causing its old wound to reopen. Wenger furiously summoned his flaming saber into a giant flaming scythe, and frantically cut down the canopy of the tree where Seranti had just fired the arrow. The damp leaves instantly burst into flames, and Seranti had nowhere to hide. Wenger's frenzied, wild swinging had even cut his arm.

"The cat-and-mouse game is over!"

Wenger grinned menacingly, then charged at Seranti with his scythe, ready to cleave him in two.

Seranti surveyed the surroundings and terrain, retreating while nimbly dodging to the side, leaping down from the treetop, and simultaneously firing his last few arrows. The arrowheads struck Wenger's right eye and wing, causing him to temporarily lose his balance.

The action of putting away the bow and arrow was like instinct. He adjusted the angle of his body in the air with his hands, drew his scimitar and nailed it to the tree to reduce the speed of his fall. He landed smoothly on the ground and then moved through the forest, using the trees and terrain to avoid Wenger's pursuit.

With a roar, Wenger pulled the arrow from its right eye, flames raging on its weapon. It swayed left and right through the dense tree trunks, flapping its wings as it chased after Seranti.

The two drew closer, and Wenger's skin, cracked and glowing with a dazzling red-hot light.

"Yak!!"

The scorching flames instantly ignited the path and moss that Seranti had run through, and even though Seranti managed to duck behind a tree at the last moment, he was inevitably burned on his left shoulder by the flames.