The Crimson Covenant: Vol 1The Moonlit Blood Chapter 3

 

ACT I  THE BLOOD COFFIN GUILD

Chapter 3  Uncle Őrök

The battle should have been over. The Baalanian captain had fled before Bálint's impossible speed. The remaining soldiers had been scattered by Zoltán's overwhelming strength. Yet war rarely ended cleanly. Across Kisfenyő, scattered bands of hardened Baalanian veterans still fought desperately, refusing to abandon their wounded comrades. Several had barricaded themselves behind burning wagons, firing arrows into the streets while inferno priests in black robes hurled flames toward anyone trying to rescue the injured. The village remained a battlefield. Smoke rolled between the cottages like a gray ocean. Sparks drifted upward into the crimson evening sky. The air smelled of burning pine, scorched earth, and hot iron.

Heavy footsteps echoed through the village.

THOOM.

THOOM.

THOOM.

Each step vibrated through the cobblestones. The surviving villagers turned. Children stopped crying. Even the remaining Baalanian soldiers instinctively looked toward the northern road. A giant emerged through the curtain of smoke. He stood over three meters tall. His enormous frame was forged from ancient brass, dark steel, and silver alloy unlike any metal known to modern blacksmiths. Thousands of engraved runes covered overlapping plates of armor, glowing softly with blue-white light beneath centuries of scratches and dents. Despite his immense size, every movement was precise. Elegant. Purposeful. His broad shoulders could have supported a castle gate. Massive cylindrical arms ended in articulated hands large enough to lift a horse with ease. Thick cables, crystal conduits, and intricate gears moved beneath gaps in the armor with an almost organic smoothness. His legs resembled reinforced fortress pillars, each step leaving shallow impressions in the stone road. Where a human face should have been rested a smooth steel helm. Two brilliant sapphire lights burned quietly within its eye sockets. They did not look cold. They looked... Gentle. Across his back rested an enormous harness of black iron. Secured within it... Was an elegant black coffin adorned with silver dragons and ancient runes. It appeared strangely small against the automaton's colossal frame.Some villagers gasped. Others stepped backward.

One elderly man whispered in terror,

"...The Guardian."

Another crossed himself.

"I thought it was only a story."

The children stared in fascination.

The machine stopped beside a collapsed house. Its deep mechanical voice echoed warmly.

"Civilians detected."

"Rescue operations commencing."

The voice possessed no anger. No emotionless monotone. It sounded calm. Almost fatherly.

A frightened woman screamed from beneath the ruins.

"My husband!"

"Please!"

"My husband is still inside!"

Without hesitation, the giant knelt. Massive steel fingers slipped carefully beneath enormous oak beams. To everyone's amazement... He lifted the entire front wall of the house as though it weighed little more than a blanket. Dust filled the air. Broken timbers groaned. Inside lay an unconscious farmer pinned beneath debris. The automaton reached inside with astonishing delicacy. His enormous metal fingers gently cradled the injured man as carefully as one might hold a newborn child. He placed the farmer upon the ground. The village healer rushed forward.

"He's alive!"

The giant inclined his head.

"I am pleased."

Across the square, an inferno priest raised both hands.

Black fire erupted around him.

"You relic!"

A blazing sphere of crimson flame shot toward the crowd. The villagers screamed. It would strike directly among the injured. The automaton simply turned. He stepped forward. And raised one massive arm. The fireball exploded.

BOOOOM!

Flames engulfed his body. Heat blasted across the square. Children cried out. When the fire disappeared... He remained standing. His armor glowed orange from the heat. Not a single villager behind him had been harmed. Molten metal slowly dripped from one shoulder where the spell had struck directly.

The priest stared.

"...Impossible."

The blue runes across the automaton's armor brightened. Tiny silver threads of light spread beneath the damaged plates. The melted section gradually cooled. The cracked metal slowly knit itself back together. The wound... Was healing.

"Self-repair protocol active."

His voice remained perfectly calm.

The Desert priest shouted in panic.

"Destroy it!"

Half a dozen elite Baalanian warriors charged.

Unlike the ordinary raiders, these men wore heavier armor beneath their black robes. Their faces remained hidden behind black cloth veils, revealing only sharp desert eyes hardened by years of war. Each carried specialized weapons. Heavy falchions. War hammers. Steel hooks. Veterans. They surrounded the automaton. Attacking together. One hammer crashed into his knee. Another blade scraped across his back. Hooks attempted to bind his arms. The giant did not move. One soldier looked confused.

"Why isn't it fighting?"

The automaton answered politely.

"You are standing too close to civilians."

He looked toward the frightened villagers still huddled nearby.

"Please move to a safe distance."

Bálint called from across the square.

"They're clear!"

The giant nodded once.

"Understood."

The battlefield changed instantly. The enormous steel hand shot forward. Not fast. Not flashy. Simply unavoidable. One warrior found himself lifted completely off the ground. The automaton carried him several meters away before calmly placing him atop a pile of hay.

"You will remain there."

The second attacker swung his hammer. The automaton caught it between two fingers. The weapon crumpled like soft tin. The third warrior leapt onto his back. The machine merely straightened. The sudden movement threw the man harmlessly into a water trough. Another charged with twin curved swords. The automaton took one step. His shoulder collided gently with the attacker. The armored veteran flew through a wooden fence and landed unconscious inside a cabbage field. No unnecessary force. Nor cruelty. Only enough strength to end the fight. Then the inferno priest began chanting once more. This time... A pillar of black fire rose toward the sky. The spell rapidly expanded.

Even Bálint looked concerned.

"Zoltán!"

"The civilians!"

Already moving, Zoltán gathered children behind overturned wagons while Bálint darted between rooftops, cutting down burning debris before it reached the crowd. The automaton stood alone before the inferno.  His sapphire eyes brightened. Ancient runes ignited across both gauntlets. Blue light surged through countless engraved lines. He drew one enormous fist backward. Then punched the air. The impact released a brilliant arcane shockwave. Invisible force exploded outward. The black flames shattered apart like fragile glass. The desert priest was hurled backward into the remains of the village gate. Silence followed. The last Baalanian warriors threw down their weapons. Even they understood. Nothing they possessed could overcome this ancient guardian. As the final raiders fled into the surrounding forest, the battle finally ended. Only crackling fire disturbed the evening. Villagers slowly emerged from hiding. The giant immediately resumed his rescue work. He carried the wounded to the village square. Lifted fallen beams. Extinguished burning buildings using enormous water barrels. Gathered frightened livestock. Repaired broken wells. Several villagers noticed deep cuts covering his armor. One arm bore fresh dents. His left shoulder remained cracked where the inferno spell had struck. Without ceremony, he knelt beside the old stone well. Blue runes glowed softly. Tiny mechanical arms unfolded from hidden compartments beneath his forearm. Minute enchanted tools adjusted gears, sealed fractures with liquid silver, and replaced shattered rune plates. Damaged brass slowly flowed together as ancient magic repaired wounds accumulated over centuries. It was like watching a living creature heal. Not flesh. Steel.

A little boy cautiously approached.

He could not have been older than six.

"Excuse me..."

The automaton looked down.

"Yes?"

"...Are you scary?"

There was a brief pause.

"I hope not."

The boy smiled.

"My papa says giants eat people."

"I have never consumed a human."

"...Would you like a cookie instead?"

The villagers burst into laughter. The boy eagerly offered a slightly burned biscuit rescued from his family's bakery.

The giant accepted it with both hands as though receiving a priceless treasure.

"Thank you."

"I shall preserve it."

The fear disappeared. Children slowly gathered around him.

One little girl tugged gently on his enormous metal hand.

"Can I climb?"

"You may."

Within minutes, half the village's children were sitting on his broad shoulders, laughing as he carefully walked through the square with slow, steady steps. Another child hung from one massive forearm. A tiny girl had somehow fallen asleep against the black coffin strapped to his back. The giant adjusted his pace so gently that none of them stirred.

Watching from the church steps, Bálint folded his arms.

"He likes children."

Zoltán grinned.

"He always has."

One elderly woman blinked in disbelief.

"That thing..."

"...is a war machine?"

Bálint looked toward the towering guardian, now letting children pretend to steer him through the village.

A faint smile touched the corner of his mouth.

"No."

"He used to be."

"Now..."

"...he's our uncle."

Above them, twilight settled over Kisfenyő. For the first time since the attack began, the village felt safe. But strapped silently to Őrök's back, the ancient black coffin remained closed. Its silver runes glowed faintly in the growing darkness. Inside, something had begun to stir.