The Mist and the Lightning. Part 13
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Kors turned and saw the beast rushing about the cage. Nikto’s shoulders trembled, apparently he laughed, because of the noise Kors didn’t hear it, and on Nikto’s face was his deaf, faceless mask and the slits for the eyes were obscured by black glass. Kors knew, and Nikto had told him before, that daylight and especially the “fiery lighters” of the reds blinded him greatly. No longer able to restrain his emotions, Kors rushed to him, dragging him into some kind of broken arch in the wall and ripping off the mask from his face. He remembered that in the morning, after Lis announced to them about the attack of the reds and the attack on the Fort, Nikto immediately rushed to dress and to his weapons.
He didn’t have enough time to stick the mask to his face, Kors was sure of this and was not mistaken, – the mask gave in, and Nikto looked at Kors with his bright eyes:
“What are you doing, Kors?! I will stop seeing now!” Nikto shouted, however, quite good-naturedly.
And Kors leaned towards him, rushed, no worse than Arel, his face was tense, with excitement, doubt – what would Nik-Demon do him now? Would he give him a cold shower of indifference, or…
But Nikto was all towards him, embracing, hugging him.
“I missed you, I missed you terribly,” whispered Kors, seeing that Nikto was in tune with him, and reciprocated, “I love you, I love you!”
Nikto gently pressed a hand to his forehead and the white strand that had been knocked out during the fight, and Kors’ body was pierced by a convulsion: demonic energy filled with pleasure that didn’t belong to this mortal world. Kors groaned, arching and cumming right in his pants. Nikto kissed him on the lips, and Kors answered him feverishly with all his passion.
“Kors, you get stoned with me,” Nikto laughed, “you are the same as Arel. No wonder you got along and were lovers for so long.”
“Yes, let me get stoned, let… my Demon…”
Nikto pulled away:
“Be patient a little, now is not up to this, you see.”
Kors didn't care, he had been alone for too long, tired of being alone and now he wanted to be near this creature and feel pleasure. Nikto put on the mask again. They came out of the arch, and Kors saw Arel’s grim gaze. He stood nearby, but didn’t interfere.
The unclean warriors divided into three lines of defense in order to repulse the attacks of the reds in turn, since it was clear that the attack could last for several more hours at least, and it would not be possible to withstand it, without the opportunity to catch their breath and recover.
The sky was covered with smoke, and it was already impossible to determine whether it was sunny or not. Kors didn’t feel his hand, and his pace slowed noticeably. Incessant flashes from the reds’ weapons hit the eyes, their feet slipped into a mess of blood and mud. Nikto, and oddly enough, Prince Arel, insured him, and Kors was very pleased by it. The unclean ones fought as if they were wound up, and Kors was already beginning to doubt that they were flesh and blood creatures, not machines. All around was littered with corpses. Fortunately, the reds were also tired, slowed down, and by the evening it became noticeably quieter.
Lis rode up to them on horseback. He apparently decided to bypass the positions. His horse squinted with his eyes and constantly strove to stand on its hind legs, emitting a nervous whinnying, there was foam on its face, the incessant roar and red lighters finished off the poor animal, but Lis didn’t pay attention to the almost distraught animal.
Atley Alis’ face, stained with soot, was focused, and at the same time somehow strangely joyful:
“How are you?!”
“We are coping!”
“On our right wing, they retreated.”
“Here too.”
“Now they will retreat over the moat and start at dawn. Close up the wall, faster!”
2
Protection
Trust your own capabilities, increase them with knowledge and experience. Trust your intuition and let it grow into effective action.
Lis decided to urgently gather all the commanders to discuss the situation:
“Have you called me?” He asked, and Kors nodded.
“Yes. In half an hour, everyone will come. Emil Gabriel died on the defensive.”
“Brother of your former lackey?”
“Hmm… Yes.”
“That’s already your second officer, Kors.”
“Menerhis was subordinate to Prince Ariel Riel.”
“They came with you.”
“They came for the wealth of the reds, there is nothing to be done, this is a war. And I heard rumors that Emil was leaking information about our actions to the Black City to his brother, and Clive Gabriel was reporting everything to Leonardo.”
Lis shook his head, he looked upset and gloomy, lit a cigarette as usual. Kors noticed that Lis’ face was still dirty, streaks of soot smeared across his cheeks. He didn’t wash or clean himself up after the fight. Before the meeting, he laid out Fort’s plan on the table and made notes in pencil, but didn’t take a minute to simply wipe the dirt off his face with just a wet towel. Lis was so preoccupied with his war that apparently he didn’t even think about it, it seemed he didn’t think about anything at all except the war. And Kors bitterly concluded that this attitude towards himself and seemingly trifles gave up Lis as a commoner, a poor man, accustomed to do without water and walk dirty, without discomfort. Kors moistened a napkin on the table with water from a jug and handed it to Lis:
“Alis, wipe your face, please.”
“What?” Lis looked up from the Fort’s plan. He looked at Kors a little questioningly, as if trying to understand what he wanted from him.
“Wipe your face, please, you're black with soot.”
“Kors, don't bother me with any bullshit now, okay?” But Lis took the napkin and wiped his face. Kors felt relieved from his heart, now his noble friends would not think anything bad about his son-in-law. Lis lit a new cigarette, his pensive glance back at the plan. Nikto and Arel entered the room.