Warlord Read Online Free Page B

betray him to the titan he stalked, but the creature was far too busy tearing the roof off the building ahead of it. It rummaged about in the house like a man through small chest, a stray hand destroying the wooden side of the structure. It made a low, horrible chortling noise and drew a massive fist out with something that looked like a small doll clutched inside it. With a sickening sense of disgust, Cyrus realized it was a person, a human being, though a hard squeeze by the beast ended that life without so much as an audible squeal. The titan threw the body over its shoulder without a care, and then turned back to the house as a cry from within the building echoed in the night.
    Cyrus held back no longer, letting his blade carry him forward on legs now stronger and faster than any stallion’s. He reached the squatting titan and leapt into the air, landing with a hard clank upon a shoulder, causing the creature to look up in utter bewilderment. Its face was rough and ugly, like a rotted fruit, the eyes under its dome-shaped helm, tangerine with the reflection of the fires burning beyond. A smell wafted from it, sweat and body odor of an intensity Cyrus could remember only from a Society of Arms barracks after a long week of military exercises. The smell almost made him gag, but he sublimated his disgust and threw it into a thrust of his sword instead, driving Praelior into a gaping eye and following behind it with all his force.
    The titan screamed as the blade pierced him. Cyrus pushed into the socket with fury, driving his hand into the orb as gelatinous blood came rushing out. He buried his hand up to the wrist, not considering that he was attaching his fate to the creature’s, but as the first shocks of movement surged through the titan’s massive frame, Cyrus realized his error.
    Should have gone for the neck, he thought as the beast jerked to its feet. A hand came up to swat at him, and it hit his armor with harsh force, striking him as if he were a bothersome fly. The rattle of rough flesh against his metal armor echoed through Cyrus’s bones like the quaking of the earth in his dream and drove him slightly deeper into the eyeball, burying him almost to the shoulder. Shit .
    As the striking hand withdrew, Cyrus pulled hard against the entrapping eyeball, ripping free of it only with great effort and all his Praelior-enhanced strength. The soft tissue resisted and tugged at the edges of his gauntlets and vambraces, and the shrieking of the giant beast raged around him like a thunderstorm. He maintained his footing as he withdrew thanks only to the balance granted him by his sword. It was a precarious place to stand; Cyrus knew it and meant to remove himself from the perch as quickly as possible.
    The titan stood up on wobbly legs, raising a hand to deliver another smack. It was hardly likely to injure someone who had only months earlier been knocked about by a god, but Cyrus had certainly felt the first blow, even if it had caused him no harm. He watched the titan turn its face away from him, exposing a neck that had no gorget upon it. Cyrus struck swiftly, opening the vein that flowed in exactly the same place as it would have on a human. His reward was a geyser of dark-tinted liquid that looked almost black in the firelight. Cyrus did not bother to dodge away from his portion, receiving the spray upon his black armor.
    The titan’s steps became unsteady, and one of its hands rose in panic. Cyrus leapt from atop the shoulder and felt the shock run from his feet up through his knees and legs as he landed. It hurt, and he counted himself fortunate indeed to feel the breath of a healing spell only a moment later, though nothing had been obviously broken in his sudden descent.
    He cleared out of the shadow of the titan as a fire spell struck the beast’s already scarred-looking face in the side that still contained an eyeball. The creature fell, probably more from the wound Cyrus had inflicted rather than the spell.