Aimlessly, their feet took off and they sprinted down opposite paths. Jethro felt his blood pumping inside him, his ragged breath scraping in his throat.
He felt the beating heart of his Red Lizard and its silent trembling in his pockets, but he could not stop running.
Risking a glance back, a surge of relief rushed through him as he realized that Decterion wasn't pursuing him. But that relief turned bittersweet instantly when he realized that the baneful conqueror had appeared beside Padva, who had chosen that exact moment to look back towards Jethro.
Jethro's eyes flashed with horror and his lips separated to form a yell.
However, when Decterion's blade came swinging down, he was interrupted by something hard and fast, slamming into his left flank and knocking him slightly off his lethal trajectory.
The sword cut the air before Padva, and when she realized what had happened, she gasped lightly and stumbled backward in shock, collapsing onto the rough stone.
Decterion paused for a moment before adjusting himself and turning around, his hair whipping across his impassive face.
He looked at the mechbeast that had struck him. "A Doomsday Panther," he muttered coldly. "Scarcely more than a cub. Yet strong enough to displace me."
His cold blue eyes lowered to Padva, threat imminent. "This one… I might just keep."
With a lash of light, he sped into action, his blade striking towards them. The Panther roared at the same time before it pounced. The blade caught it by the side, tearing through the Vincintine skin and drawing blood. But when the young beast landed on its feet, it did not stop or cry.
It vanished, catching Decterion by surprise.
Suddenly, it reappeared right behind Padva, grabbing her by the collar with its jaws before disappearing once again.
A flash of furiousness and rage appeared in Decterion's eyes for the first time. He joined them instantly, vanishing as his armor disintegrated into the air.
Silence swept the space.
Jethro now stood alone, chest heaving, sweat stinging his eyes as he stared at the empty spot where the conqueror had been. That was when he realized he was utterly alone. Decterion had gone after Padva and her mechbeast.
If he wanted to escape, this was his only chance!
Frantically, he spun his gaze to the shadowed path, and with no thought at all, he ran towards it, praying to get as far as possible from the Darc Throne Depths.
He'd barely covered a few frantic strides when a low, triple-throated growl rumbled from the gloom ahead. Three pairs of slitted, deathly reptilian eyes snapped open and locked onto him.
Jethro froze instantly, his boots skidding to an infant halt before the threat. The three-headed dragon! How had he forgotten about it?!
Its heads curled deceptively in the air, like a warning. Jethro took the warning and stepped back slowly, his heart thumping in his chest.
He remembered once more; there was no leaving this place.
Then, a wet, rattling cough shattered the tense quiet.
Startled, Jethro looked down. The escort lay sprawled on the floor, battered and bludgeoned, barely alive, and clutching the wound in his chest as blood dripped from it down his dirt-filled hand. In his other hand, he held a glowing, crystalline orb.
"Jethro," he gasped, barely any voice in his throat. "The other way, kid. Run the other way."
Jethro raised his gaze to the other direction which led forward. "But that leads deeper into the Throne Depths."
The escort coughed blood. "Just go. You have better odds with the Darcbeasts than with him."
The brutal logic cut through Jethro's fear. The escort was right.
"Take this with you."
He looked down and saw the escort's hand extended, offering him the golden crystalline orb in his palm.
Jethro frowned, surprised. "That's your Liongolem's beast core."
"Don't… let anyone else… have it," the escort said. "Please. He should be free this time. So… grow him yourself. Please."
He shoved the core into Jethro's hand, who lifted it and looked at it with uncertainty as its golden glow reflected on his face.
"But I'm already linked to my Gutterling. I can't link with another beast."
The escort groaned in pain as his eyes started to close. "Don't… be so… sure, kid."
Jethro watched as his eyes shut close and his arms fell lifelessly. His Lizard, watching from the top of his pocket, tilted its head sadly, whimpering. Then, looking at the road ahead one more time, he sunk the core into his second pocket and sprinted towards it.
Yes. The escort was indeed right.
That conqueror. Decterion. He was the most brutal, diabolical being Jethro had ever seen. He had slaughtered the entire team without a single thought, without hesitation. Obviously, any beast would be better to face than him.
Any beast, any beast at all! Just not that terrible monster of a man.
Not Decte—
Decterion appeared. Again.
His towering frame materialized before Jethro, and at the same time, his dreadful weapon slashed forward, aiming to bisect him from the stomach.
Jethro couldn't believe the level of speed and reflex he had accomplished. He stopped just in time and pushed his body backwards, sucking his stomach violently. The blade moved in a fatal arc, slicing only the edge of his flying jacket.
The adrenaline rush, however, left him unable to find his feet, and he stumbled hard to the ground, hitting his tailbone on the hard earth. But the rush of fear left him unable to feel the pain.
He scrambled backward like a crab, eyes locked on the conqueror who slowly stepped close, his double-blade dragging behind him.
He tilted his head, studying the boy.
"You should be proud of yourself," he said woefully. "Do you know you are the weakest spark of life I have ever deigned to confront?"
Jethro didn't have a reply to that. He couldn't even speak if he wanted to. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.
"The others were weak themselves," Decterion continued, taking another slow, measured step, "but you… you are a fleeting wisp. The highlight of your life is this very moment when it comes to an end in my hands."
He raised the blade, pointing at the tip of Jethro's nose. "How could you dare come here with a mere pocket beast?"
Jethro gulped, forcing air into his paralyzed lungs. His body tightened with chivers of fear and his eyes were still wide with terror, locked on Decterion's pitiless gaze.
But, his lips slowly started to part. "If you don't want visitors… then stop opening your doors." Jethro said, regretting the words the moment they left his mouth.
There was a silence for a moment, heavier than stone. The conqueror and the boy held each other's gaze across the lethal point of the blade, air crackling with anticipation.
"Hmm." Decterion finally spoke, lifeless. "Perhaps I was wrong. You do deserve this death."