Chapter Text
Oh Barbatos, when did it get so difficult to breathe? He can feel each breath become more and more laboured by the second, every time he opens his mouth to take a gulp of air he can taste the smell of burning flesh and the distinct smell of god remains.
Smelling that stench of a gas reminded him of the reason he was even here.
It was meant to be an easy thing, track the warped abyss creatures, kill them, destroy the god remains and then scedadle the fuck out of there.
He was only meant to have to deal with a few corrupt hillichurls and mitschurls, maybe even an abyss mage if he was down on some modest luck.
Not this,
He wasn’t meant to find himself head to head with a pyro abyss lector infused with so much godly remains that it’s body had warped so much so that had Diluc not known the patterns of attack these creatures preferred he would’ve assumed that it was a new being crafted by Celestia.
Looking at is reminded him of past long gone from when he and Kaeya had been tasked with the duty of helping the maids with cleaning the pantry so they could “learn about how much the maids do for you, and so you can maybe become somewhat competent when you turn adults.” As his father had put it.
He and Kaeya were helping with checking for expired food, so far they were doing well but as they got the fruit bowl they came across an apple, or what was left of one.
The apple had shrivelled so badly that only the vague shape of the core was present, the skin had turned the colour of tree bark with small patches of white mould appearing in some areas. In some parts the skin was hard and leathery, whereas in others it had turned into a decaying mush.
Both him and Kaeya gagged at the sight and kindly (desperately) asked (begged) for one of the maids the throw it out for them.
But this was different.
He wasn’t a child anymore and this “apple” was twisting and clicking at him with aggressive interest.
Diluc knew his limits of what he could and couldn’t do, and god did he know that he couldn’t do this on his own, he had nothing to break the eventual shield with nor did he have the raw, physical power to overcome the beings pyro resistance.
He should’ve known that luck wasn’t on his side today or that coming into this cave wasn’t a good idea. Throughout the whole day he had been having the itch that someone or something more likely, was following him.
His gut had told him not to come into this, it had told him that today wasn’t the day and that he could skip this one excursion. Someone else would fix it up.
But wars aren’t won by sitting by and letting other people do your work.
Regret and frustration was pounding in his head. The exit to the cavern was a good ten minutes away, by looking at the abyss lector it was easy to assume that he could most likely out run it, however looks were deceiving, and corruption from god remains made abyss creatures powers increase significantly.
He, under no circumstances, would be able to fight the thing, that much was clear and it would most likely end with an early grave that he currently could not afford.
Weighing his options, Diluc chose the most sensible option.
He ran.
Claymores are heavy. They aren’t designed for people to be running from point A to point B away from a monster very insistent on eating you alive. They are designed for the wielded to tank hits and parry back with heavier ones, favouring slower attack speeds for heavier amounts of damage.
So when Diluc says he didn’t enjoy running with his own claymore that was heavier than the average one, he meant it.
And god was that thing fast. It ran without proper muscle articulation, its limbs flailing around as if they had no purpose or aim. Its body crashed into the sides of the cavernous wall with such velocity that if any regular human was hit with that much force each bone in their brittle body would crack in an instant.
Diluc could be feel the presence of the abomination right on his tail. If the thing could breathe he was sure he would feel the hot and steamy breath on his neck.
It was evident at this point that he couldn’t run, couldn’t do much of anything.
He hasn’t even taken into account about what he’s do once he’s out of the cave, sure he wouldn’t be inside the moist cavern but the abyss lector would still be on his back.
There was only one way that this could end.
And it was with the lector dead.
Turning around, Diluc used the weight of his turn to swing his claymore into the beasts side. The lector barely even flinched, the impact from the swing made its core strength falter as everything from the waist up tilted to the opposite side of the swing.
Clicking in annoyance, the lector raised its rotting hand and swiped at the red-heads chest. Dodging by an inch, Diluc changed into a defensive stance, ready to parry any attack the lector threw his way.
The lector launched with its claws at Dilucs body, ready to turn scratch Diluc into a pulp he imagined.
Tensing his muscles, Diluc infused his claymore with the power of pyro.
As soon as the abyss lectors claws hit the edge of his claymore and hooked it his clothes, Diluc threw his claymore at the morphed beast with double the strength he was attacked with.
The lector was thrown back in a gust of flames ,flailing backwards its limbs scrambled for purchase on the dry rocks of the cavern floor.
Raising his claymore up high, Diluc called upon his falcon of fire, launching it forwards with a ferocity rivalling a bear whose den had been intruded on.
Amid the inferno the lector burned, but not to ashes.
Sweating from the intense head, Diluc lowered his claymore with a deep sigh. Moving towards the still blazing inferno, Diluc prepared to head back and do what he had come to the cave in the first place to do.
As he raised his head however, the sight he saw was not the one he wished to see.
The abyss lector was not only still alive but had rather absorbed the pyro into its already flaming skin and was holding it, ready to release it against the one available person in the cavern.
The flames that wrapped around Diluc in the next instant was a pain that he would never wish upon his worst enemy.
It was like hot oil burning onto his skin, melting his clothes and making it fuse into his flesh and then said clothes being torn off ever so agonisingly slowly along with the flesh and blood that had begun wrapping itself into the cloth. It felt like his skin was melting, turning to char on his body.
He pierced his eyes shut, trying to save them from the feeing of drying out and turning into that same warped and withered body of the very entity that was throwing these flames at him.
He was faintly aware of the smell of burning hair, probably from his nose and every other inch of skin that had been touched by a slither of red hair.
What a way to go. In the period where war rages between the very abyss and Celestia itself, Diluc Ragnivindr’s life ends from a measly abyss lector.
In the end he never got so say goodbye to anyone, would he be missed? He doubted it, with way he just up and went off to go solo like his younger years he would be shocked if his friends even knew that he was alive. They wouldn’t even find his body, if there was much left of anything to be found by the time they discover this cave.
He is faintly aware of the appearance of something, and the flames around him getting cooler, but the sudden drop in temperature does stop the internal heat of his body nor does it help with the burning.
The fire around Dilic keeps on getting cooler and cooler, but his mind finds it difficult to keep up with anything that is happening around him, opting to make him pass out so it didn’t have to worry about keeping him conscious.
His eyes get heavier and heavier, all he can remember is the fading warmth turning to a sheer cold and someone’s voice calling for him, begging him to stay with him, to not leave him and that he was sorry.
Weird, the voice sounded familiar.
He would worry about that if he woke up.