A badly singed panther demon covered in wounds lay draped across a bear demon, looking almost as though it had thrown itself halfway on top of the bear in order to protect it. The upper half of a broken falchion embedded in the panther demon’s back seemed to lend credence to the touching narrative.

A short distance before the panther and bear pair, a charred crocodile demon in a tattered red robe lay flat on its back. One milky eye still opened wide, as were its jaws, giving it a look of stupefied surprise. The other eye was a gory red ruin with a gaping hole in the middle.

From beneath the panther and bear demons, an arm holding a revolver lay limp, still pointed towards the crocodile demon. The fingers around the revolver tightened, then the arm drew back underneath the two demons.

***

Trip awoke in darkness, the smell of blood, smoke and death all around her. A high-pitched sound like that of a tuning fork the size of a mountain filled her head. She felt smothered, like a giant hand was pressing down on her, gradually squeezing the life out of her as she struggled to breathe… then she remembered where she was. An immense surge of relief and reassurance filled her when she realised that the weight in her hand was her trusty revolver.

Still, something was wrong. She tried to wriggle out from beneath the bodies of the demons she had hidden under while taking out Scale-tooth, but it hurt to move. Even the slightest movement took a herculean effort, and her limbs trembled uncontrollably. It felt like her lungs were too small to allow a full breath, and her pulse thundered in her ears. Cold sweat coated the revolver handle, and she gripped it tight as she made her way forward, inch by inch.

Eventually, like a caterpillar’s torturous emergence from the cocoon, Trip crawled her way out. For many minutes, she could do nothing except gasp and wheeze, too weak to do anything more than struggle to breathe.

When the black and purple spots dancing before her eyes finally went away, she tried to get to her feet. The world spun, the spots of dark light returned with a vengeance, and she collapsed sideways, retching out nothing but pain and misery as her insides were slices to ribbons with invisible knives.

The sound of the tuning fork filling her ears, she tried looking around as best as she could from her position on the ground. Motion drew her attention to the periphery of her vision. Moving her head with as much care as she could, she turned her head at a snail’s pace. Something told her that if she went any faster, she might fall prey to the dry retches again before falling unconscious and perhaps stay that way.

She saw Wukong battling the Lion-Tiger demon, but in a way that was so uncharacteristic of him, she doubted her eyes at first. He was without his quarterstaff, but his fists were covered in shimmering golden gauntlets and bracers. His style was aggressive, almost entirely focused on offense. Instead of relying on his armoured fists, he attacked with every part of him, a ferocious whirlwind of berserk fury. Fists, elbows, knees, feet. At one point, she even saw him headbutt the demon in the mouth, then bite the demon’s shoulder, tearing out a chunk of demon meat with a vicious jerk of his head.

At first, the demon was driven back on the defensive by Wukong’s all out attacks, but it began to adapt. Now that Wukong had no care for defense nor evasion, every single slash from the Lion-Tiger demon hit its mark, tearing gashes into Wukong. He was getting cut and sliced to pieces, his healing unable to keep up. His golden-black fur had long since been dyed a dark red, his movements slowing down. White foam gathered at the edges of his mouth as he panted, eyes still wild and glaring at his enemy.

Trip could see that this war of attrition was one that Wukong was doomed to lose. For every strike that landed on the demon, Wukong received several wounds in return. Even at this distance, she could see some of his bones through his lacerated flesh.

Trip shifted her weight, rolling to one side so that she could reload her revolver. Moving it down to the reloader on her belt took longer than she could have ever imagined, feeling something grating in her shoulder the whole time. She knew that it was causing her pain, but she could barely feel it, like it was happening to her from a great distance.

At last, she got it done, and tried to level her revolver at the demon, but her hand was no longer steady. Even gripping it in both hands, something she hadn’t needed to do since her teens, only reduced the weaving of the barrel somewhat, but didn’t stop it. She guessed that she had an equal chance of hitting the demon, Wukong, or the ground around them. That was unacceptable.

Wheezing and groaning like a leaky bellows, she tried to get to her feet, but failed. She managed to stand upright for a single step before dropping to the ground. Nothing for it, she’d just have to crawl. After the first few feet, she switched to crawling on her side to minimize the feeling of knives cutting in her belly. Right arm, right leg, lift and push forward. Breathe. Focus on moving. Hold on Wukong. Trip’s world narrowed down to the ground under and directly before her, her focus on moving her limbs.

A loud thump that she could feel through the ground interrupted her. She looked up to see Wukong flat on the ground amidst a cloud of dust, the demon’s foot crushing his chest. The demon’s face looked like it had been beaten with bags of rocks, it was little more than a mass of swelling bumps and bruises, on top of broken teeth, nose, and cheek bones. Its body wasn’t much better, missing chunks of flesh here and there. Still, its arm was steady as it lifted its nine-ringed broadsword high, ready to deliver the final blow to a vulnerable Wukong.

Trip steadied her elbows on the ground, trying to form a steady bipod to support her revolver. Aiming as best she could, she emptied her revolver at the Lion-Tiger demon… who looked down at the six shallow bullet wounds decorating its chest and belly. It looked back at her, seemingly unaffected, baring its broken teeth in a snarl.

It tried to take a step in her direction, but was stopped by Wukong, who had wrapped all of his limbs, even his tail, around the demon’s leg on his chest.

“Mistress”, he rasped. “Run.”

As she reloaded her revolver, Trip smiled at Wukong.

Foolish monkey, couldn’t he see that she was past running, walking, or even crawling anywhere? If he was willing to go this far for her, she who had done nothing but wake him into a life of constant danger, couldn’t she do the same for him?

Oblivious to anything but the desire to crush this new intruder, Shi Hu knew nothing but rage. For just a brief moment, when the woman had shot at him, he had thought he would meet the same end that the other demons had. Fortunately, he was a stronger, much greater demon. The pistol that had killed so many others could do little more than dig shallow holes into his tough hide. For daring to test him, for killing so many of his fellow demons, she had to die. Then, he could take his time with the monkey.

Muscles straining, Shi Hu roared as his squeezed Wukong’s arms in his hands, tearing the monkey’s grip loose. Spinning in a tight circle, he lifted then smashed Wukong to the ground again, before kicking him away.

There, the clingy monkey had been dealt with. Now, he could-

Two metal hooves, attached to the hindquarters of a grey horse, slammed into Shi Hu’s head, sending him spinning into the air before crashing down in a tangle of limbs.

“I believe this could be referred to as an equos ex machina.”

Down but not out, Shi Hu got to his feet, glaring at the equine intruder. Just how many times was he going to be interrupted? Filled with frustration, he roared out his rage, promising death to the monkey, the woman, and now this talking horse.

Just as he gathered himself to spring onto the meddling horse, there was a sudden sound. A sound with a sickening, meaty quality to it.

CHUNK

Accompanying it was a strange loss of feeling below his waist, the sound of things splattering about his feet, and a terrifying cold numbness spreading upwards. Shi Hu looked down to see a spear as thick as his thigh sticking out from below his rib cage.

“Excellent marksmanship, Brother Mender. Especially considering how little practise you’ve had.”

“You praise me overmuch, Master Dragon. In actual fact, I was aiming for the demon’s heart.”

-- Chapter 46, End --