Chapter 45 - Time
Mack could not believe what just happened.
He barely used any force and he broke his own leg.
Mack seated on the ground and looked at his broken leg while pressing a button on his neck to retract part of the battlesuit.
The battlesuit was intact, his skin was intact, yet, the bottom part of the left leg was by his side while the upper part to his front.
"Arcane?"
[I have no idea why this happened]
"Me too"
Said Mack, grabbing his broken leg and trying to put in the correct place.
'Better put things in place to avoid growing another leg. I'm already a freak, no need for 3 legs' .
~crack~
"I think its in correct place now. Do you have a way to check?"
[I have. But not allowed to. Rules]
"I guessed."
~crack~
"Now I think its correct."
Mack looked at his leg and almost forgot the reason why that happened.
He touched his middle finger and turned off that runespell.
That burning sensation stopped, and his body now drenched in a fine layer of his own blood went colder.
"Another shitty day"
"Or maybe a few..."
Said Mack, looking at his leg. He was not sure how much time it would take to heal that.
"Arcane, There is a mage spell like that?"
[There are thousands with the same effect]
"Nothing special than.... Only.... Unexpected"
[Yes]
Three boring days later....
"Damm I can't figure this circuit properly."
Said Mack, surrounded by rune circuits drawn on the ground while looking at the cube in front of him.
~sigh~
"There is no helping. Its too advanced for me."
Mack raised himself from the ground. Stomped a bit with his leg and felt that seemed much stronger now.
"The healing is almost done."
~grumble~
"And I'm starving."
Said Mack, already grabbing his sword by the side and walking in the direction of the warlock camp.
It was time to have a proper meal and a bath.
After a long walk, Mack finally reached the warlock camp.
And as usual, not even a single spot of light could be seen during the night at the warlock camp.
Mack went for a bath first and then went to eat.
The same old "white burrito" was served.
Mack seated at a table where two other warlocks were eating and did the same.
The same taste. The same place. The same 'silence'.
Mack was already used to all that and kept thinking on the rune circuits while eating.
~pat~
A heavy hand touched his shoulders.
Mack didn't turn to look, only stopped eating, but his gaze turned serious.
A few seconds later a warlock seated in front of him.
That warlock looked in Mack's eyes without talking anything.
Both kept glaring each other eyes without a single word or unnecessary movement.
A long one minute later.
Mack raised from his seat.
Turned his back.
And walked in the direction where he came from.
While walking, Mack could hear two people walking behind him all the way out of the camp.
Mack stopped.
And the steps behind him stopped too.
Mack didn't turn, not even his head.
"Go back if you don't want to die. The price for delaying me will be your lives."
~step~
~step~
The two continued to walk forward in Mack's direction.
~flash~
A bright light, like the sun itself, shined in the dark night outside of the warlock camp.
~shing~
~clank~
Swords collided with each other two times amidst the blinding light.
~plop~
~stumble~
And two bodies without heads fell to the ground.
Mack turned his back and resumed walking in the cube's direction.
"Stupid traditions."
It was not the first time, and would not be the last. Warlocks had a strict martial tradition and once someone was defeated in a duel they could have all the belongs of the loser.
And many had already coveted Mack sword and battlesuit.
Not just these two.
But this only started to happen when he left his former master.
Mack guessed his former master had a kind of grunge. Or wounded pride. Probably both. But he could not care less.
They were just light constructs. And even if they weren't, Mack probably would do the same.
His life and his goals came first.
Always.
A minute lost may be the difference between life and death in a few days.
The camp was less crowded. And the supplies less too. Tomorrow they would probably retreat to the backline again. A few more days, and they would need to retreat to where Mack practiced his rune circuits.
The battle did not seem that would last for a hundred days. More likely it would end before that.
"If at least I had more time."
Mack stopped thinking about the warlocks and focused on the cube in front of him.
Unconsciously, Mack already reached his old practicing place.
Time flowed in odd ways.
"Focus Mack! Focus!"
Said Mack to himself, emptying his mind of useless thoughts.
Today he was studying a very complex circuit.
His two last attempts of carving runes went completely different from what Mack expected, one was supposed to be a fireball and become a flashbang, The other a forcefield and become.... Mack didn't even knew how to describe that...
'A mess. A complete mess.' historical
Mack needed to learn more and practice more if he didn't want to blow himself in the next circuit.
Because in the next one.
He had no way to test before. It would only work if carved in his body.
But that was a game-changer for Mack. He needed to at least try.
It was a crazy idea.
Yes.
It was a stupid and almost suicidal idea.
Yes.
But he needed to try.
Mack could regret a failure.
But he would never regret not doing something.
'At least there is a positive outlook on this. I will not be able to regret. Even if I fail.'
Because he would be dead.
"That old man would probably scold me if I said something like this in front of him."
~sigh~
Mack looked at the horizon where the sky touched the plains, and nostalgic memories came to his mind.
No matter how cold or detached someone looked. Everyone had his soft spot. His dragon scale. His Achilles tendon. And for Mack was his father. His funny yet rigid father.
"I hope not matter where you are. Be it with angels or devils. That at least they are hot."
Said Mack, still looking far on the horizon.
For some unknown reason Mack smiled, a genuine and honest smile, one of those that does not show the teeth.
And on this cold night, Mack felt warmer for a brief, but also long, time.
Time flowed in odd ways.