The Chort was a grotesque sight, a nightmarish amalgamation of bony protrusions and matted fur.
Its hulking form dominated the landscape, a mass of twisted limbs and coarse hide.
Pustules and lesions dotted its skin, oozing a foul substance that added to the repulsive aura surrounding the creature.
The stench of decay hung thick in the air, an unbearable odour that permeated the very fabric of the meadows.
Nefeli scrunched her nose, the acrid smell making her grip her knife even tighter.
The creature's "eyes," if they could be called that, were nothing more than hollow sockets, devoid of life or reason.
Her stomach dropped as the Chort's attention shifted to her, its nostrils flaring as it sniffed the air.
On foot and having left Fenrir with Roach far away, Nefeli felt a surge of fear coursing through her veins.
The White Wolf had deemed her the bait, and evidently, the Chort believed she smelled delicious.
The creature, massive and menacing, shifted its weight, a clawed foot hitting the ground as it edged toward her.
Panic set in as she scanned the surroundings for any sign of the elusive White Wolf.
Where the hell was he?
The creature took another step forward, its monstrous form casting a shadow over her.
Fear raced through her as she took a deep breath, preparing for whatever was about to unfold.
Before she could react, the Chort lunged. Nefeli dodged, the creature's claws grazing the air as she skidded across the grassy plains beneath her.
The Chort roared a guttural sound that reverberated through the meadows.
Nefeli's heart pounded in her chest, the adrenaline coursing through her veins as she faced the grotesque creature.
The beast's massive frame loomed over her, its twisted horns casting menacing shadows on the grassy terrain.
Nefeli circled, keeping a wary eye on the Chort's every movement.
The stench of decay intensified, assaulting her senses, but she pushed the discomfort aside, focusing on the creature.
With a sudden burst of speed, the Chort charged, its clawed limbs tearing through the air.
Nefeli's reflexes kicked in, but this time the creature anticipated her move. Its massive claws collided with her, sending her sprawling across the grass.
Pain flared through her right arm and she let out a cry of pain. She could feel white hot pain tearing over her arm. Something wet dripping over her skin.
The Chort, relentless, closed in. Its claws swiped through the air, and Nefeli barely managed to evade the lethal strikes.
The beast's overwhelming strength became apparent as it cornered her, its massive form casting a dark shadow over her.
Undeterred, Nefeli continued to dodge and weave, desperation fueling her movements.
The Chort's roars echoed through the meadows, a symphony of menace that drowned out any hope of rescue.
Her breath came in ragged gasps, and the world around her blurred with pain and exhaustion.
The creature stood over her, its grotesque form casting a shadow over her figure.
Nefeli could only watch as the Chort bellowed in triumph, the stench of decay mingling with the scent of her own blood.
The Chort raised its claw again. Nefeli raised her knife.
Before either could move, a flurry of wind whipped past her, and the sound of metal kissing flesh rang across the clearing.
Her eyes widened as the Chort's head fell sideways, its body collapsing in the opposite direction. It was dead.
Her gaze flicked up to the figure above it, sword in hand.
He was covered in black blood and was incredibly dirty. She wondered if she looked the same.
Then she winced as her arm burned with pain.
"I had it," she said angrily as she pushed off the ground and stood on aching legs.
The frustration in her voice echoed through the clearing, a mix of wounded pride and resentment for the unexpected intervention.
Nefeli's chest heaved with anger as she confronted the witcher, her frustration reaching new heights.
The adrenaline from the battle still coursed through her veins, but now it mingled with a fiery rage.
She couldn't comprehend how he had left her in the midst of the fight, expecting her to handle it alone.
"You left me to deal with it, I was going to," she spat, her eyes blazing as she glared up at him, seeking some sign of remorse or understanding.
Yet, his face remained an inscrutable mask, devoid of any emotion. This only fueled her fury, intensifying the turmoil within her.
"There were two," the witcher replied, his voice calm and indifferent, as if he was discussing the weather.
He casually sheathed his sword, adding insult to injury.
"I dealt with both of them. You couldn't," he continued, turning away as if the matter was settled, dismissing her presence.
"I could have—" Nefeli's protest died on her lips, her anger reaching a boiling point.
The world blurred around her as the familiar sensation overtook her.
The blood fever, a curse that had haunted her for years, was a volatile force that surged within her veins like molten lava.
Pain ripped through her, and she doubled over, clutching her chest.
The air felt thick, and her breaths came in ragged gasps.
Something metallic coated her tongue, and she tasted the bitter essence of blood.
Panic welled up within her as drops of crimson stained the grass beneath her feet.
Shit. Not now.
Nefeli's world spun, the edges darkening as the fever tightened its grip.
As Nefeli crumpled to the ground, the world seemed to retreat into a distant murmur.
The witcher's voice echoed faintly against the encroaching darkness.
"Come on—" his words were a distant whisper, lost in the wind that brushed past her like a fleeting caress.
The surroundings blurred, shadows dancing at the edges of her vision as the world darkened.
Liquid spilled from her mouth, a torrent now as if her very essence was pouring out.
The metallic taste intensified, and she felt the warmth of her own life slipping away.
Panic surged within her, a desperate struggle against the inevitable.
"Fuck."
A curse uttered with a mix of frustration and anger, reached her ears.
It was the last coherent sound before everything plunged into an abyss.
Nefeli's senses dissolved, her body consumed by an inferno.
The burning sensation spread like wildfire, and the world disintegrated into ash and fire.
YOU ARE READING
the angels hidden blade
FanficNefeli, or "Cupid", as the infuriating beast likes to call her, has never been wanted at anyone's side, and she sure as hell has never been loyal to a single soul. The stoic and fierce Vesemir bled the ability out of her, just as he tainted her blo...
