Blacksmith of the Apocalypse

Chapter 1417. Father Bird (2)

“Good night, son,” Fatherʼs warm voice told him good night. He pretended to sleep.

“Are you already asleep?” Father whispered, coming closer. No, he shouldnʼt be coming closer! Just go to your nest.

“F-Father, you are back? Is something?” he hurriedly pretended ot have woken up from the question.

“Oh, no. Itʼs nothing. Sorry for waking you up. Go back to sleep. Good night,” Father said, a little embarrassed to have woken him up, and wished him a good night again. Finally, Father returned to his nest.

He waited for a moment. His heart raced when he snuck out from under the blanket, slowly creeping to the edge of his shelter, where the moon and stars shone on top of the tower. He looked on as Father ascended the stairs to his nest. He didnʼt sit down. He could feel his heart beating in his throat. Had Father noticed something? His hand twitched.

Suddenly, the sharp, handsome face made an almost 180° turn. Snapping around, Father stared directly at him at the edge of the shadow. His face turned into a grimace, half man, half bird of prey.

Shocked, he clenched his fist, and the nest right beside the Father Bird that was about to dive at him exploded in a frost nova.

“Oh no, no no no,” he kept repeating in his mind, it had not been close enough. Father was thrown down the stairs. His right half, with an arm half transformed into a wing, was completely frozen, but the other was fine. Feathers cracked and ice shattered as father hoisted himself back up.

Fatherʼs crimson, glowing eyes behind broken glasses looked at him with vengeance. The tower shook under the screech of a giant bird of rage, and the Father Bird charged at him. With a cry, he dove back into the shadows, out of the beastʼs way.

Plan B: Maybe he could burn through the door lock with the essence of Summer Breeze? With that hope in mind, he charged at the door, but he had underestimated Fatherʼs speed. He had just reached the door when Father had already cornered him.

Halfway through his transformation, the Father bird stood before him with rage in his eyes.

“Son! You?! What have you-?!” He was interrupted by a small shell hitting his chest and breaking.

Plan C: Defeat the Father Bird.

In his panic, he threw an eggshell he had prepared as a weapon. The compound was the opposite of the freezing trap and consisted mostly of Summer Breeze and should have caused an explosion. However, in his panic, he failed to control his massively grown mana.

The supercharged compound of fire and ice exploded violently, creating a storm of fire that engulfed the Father Bird. The creature cried in agony. He was not convinced this was enough. He doubted he had enough to kill Father. But seeing the effect of a supercharged compound, his next action was clear.

Not bothering to control his mana, he threw the Summer breeze at the rusty metal door. It barely resisted before it was blown off its hinges. Looking back one more time, at the massive burned with charred feathers, he jumped through the gap and hurried down the stairs.

“At-At least it wonʼt be able to fly for a while, right?” he told himself hopefully, staring at the abyss of stairs before him. On every floor was a door, blocking the boy on that level from going further down. On every floor, he used a pinch of Summer Breeze and a barrage of mana to blow it away.

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“What is going on?” others he came by asked, surprised and confused.

“If you want to ever get out alive, now is your chance,” he gasped at them, before running past to the next door. He never stopped for a moment, running for his life. Literally. He ran and ran until the stairs ended above a black abyss.

The last two or three flights of stairs were simply missing. He looked up. He was alone. Nobody had followed him. Did they know this was a dead end? Had they already known that...? Had they tried? Whatever they knew, it was their loss for not following. He didnʼt intend to wait for anybody.

The northern wind was cold and the summer breeze was fiery, but the Spring Gusts were gentle. He swallowed the essence of the Spring Gust and jumped. He didnʼt float like a feather, but it lowered his weight and slowed his fall. This allowed him to survive the landing without broken bones or other severe injuries.

Yet, there was a sound of breaking bones. He saw nothing, and he was glad he didnʼt because what he imagined based on what he felt by groping around was bad enough. The little light he had came from above, so he was able to find the walls; however, there were no doors

This was probably the time. The moment for the greatest magic word his father ever taught him. A word he could never say in front of his mother and was meant only for occasions when everything seemed hopeless. He took a deep breath and let it all out.

“FUUUUUCK!” his bellow echoed through the tower.

“That is not a nice word, young man,” the Father Bird suddenly spoke from the darkness. A crimson aura lit up, surrounding it. His hand hurriedly searched for his egg bottles, only to find that most had broken during his encounter with the floor.

“You... have a lot to take responsibility for, young man,” the beast spoke with barely controlled rage as it started floating down, toward him.

Most of his bottles were broken, but....Yes, now was the time for the second most powerful spell his father taught him, only to be used against the worst enemies and only when his mom was not around. He was a boy of New Hope and knew how to choose his words.

“Suck a dick, bitch!” he pushed out with all pent-up frustration and channeled as much mana as possible into the compound strewn across the ground. The explosion and storm suddenly raging through the foot of the tower were so massive and chaotic that they even pulled in the Father Bird.

Maybe he had not fully realized the danger to himself when he set up the explosion... but he doubted this would kill him. He had just spotted something, but it was a gamble. Well, technically, his whole escape was a gamble at this point....

He swallowed all he had left of the Spring Gusts, lowering his weight to almost nothing. Promptly, the raging winds caused by the firestorm smashed him against the wall of the pit. His fingers desperately sought hold in the cracks and gouges the light revealed, to climb up.

Because, in the light of the fire, he spotted a door on the wall, about one floor above him. His way out. What he didnʼt appreciate about the light was the certainty about the bottom of the pit and his fate if he didnʼt manage to get away.

His fingers hurt, clinging to rough rock and rusty iron, but he quickly reached the door. Grasping at what was left of the floor under the door, he looked up at the old handle. There was no hold between him and the handle. He tried to collect his thoughts when the roar of the Father Bird made it clear that he had no time.

Launching off the piece of floor, he aimed for the hand and- Got it! CRACK! But it didnʼt hold. The handle broke off, and he traveled further up. Fortunately, the handle breaking also opened the door. His palms were shredded when he desperately held onto the rusted edges of the door.

It did not matter to him. he didnʼt feel the pain. Mustering all the power in his small body, he heaved himself through the door and flew out into the lobby of the tower. Hurriedly, he got back on his feet and ran out the entry, framed by smashed glass.

He finally escaped the ruin of an old skyscraper at the edge of an abandoned city. He didnʼt look back; he knew the way. He had stared at this scenery at the foot of his prison for long enough. His little feet carried his light body at incredible speed. For a moment, he felt like he had passed through something, like ...a curtain of mist?

He kept running and running until he was exhausted. Then, when he looked back, the Tower was gone. No tower, no ruins, as if it were a lie... Would the father bird still come for him? No time for worries, he had to get home.