I have finally read it.

And I have liked it so far and am honored to have been said to have been almost as *bleep*ed up as yours...

Or something along those lines keep it up man.

Thanks guys.

Props to you if you've been around long enough to get the Garuga thing, if not I'll explain.

I GOT IT NICK! *thinks back to Breezy's fic* good times, goooood times.

Makes me want to update my disaster with my new ( and better thank god ) writing skillz. Good fic. (take that to heart since im a hardass on my fanfic reviews.. usually)

Chapter 22

He didn't stop to think, he rolled to the side and sprayed shots full auto at the hulking monolith he was faced with - most of the shots either glanced off its scales or were worn so thin that by the time they hit flesh the bullets were so small that they may as well have been pine needles stuck in the world's largest anvil.

The sound it made was similar to an amused grunt, it pounced.

Abaddon saw little else to do than try not to shit his well armoured pants and run and hide behind the nearest rock - so that he did.

As the Akantor dug its claws out of the ground he fired off some more potshots, but saw that they were pretty much useless.

He was loading a Crag shot when the Akantor turned her head and vaporised the rock he was behind with a blast of sonic power.

Abaddon was flung from his feet, Profusion sent spinning off somewhere. With stars going into supernovas in his retinas, ears ringing more than the Vatican on the day a Pope was elected he got to his feet and drew his sword.

It was standing there, just looking at him, staring down the prey, he was the deer caught in the headlights, he was already dead.

Then to just about everybodies surprise - Abaddon punched it on the nose. It was even more surprising when it recoiled.

Abaddon allowed himself a split second of sheer amazement before charging into the breach he had created, as it was getting up he jumped on its flat head - he ran up his back, trailing his sword along the Akantor's scales, leaving a path of sparks and frost behind him.

Still slightly dazed he threw an arm around one of her back spines and jammed his sword down between them as far as he could... about two inches.

He ripped his sword up, spraying steaming blood into the air. The Akantor roared and with near burst eardrums Abaddon noticed it was about to roll over and crush him under however many scores of tonnes of angry wyvern and spines, with that in mind he leapt down.

He was flying farther than he thought he would...
The Akantor had swatted him in mid air.
His ribs were broken.
Ah.
Crap.

He still had his sword, he had landed beside Profusion.
With all the agony in the world he picked up the gun and levelled it at the Akantor.

She was rearing up, sucking in masses of air for another sonic attack, it would be a tremendous deathblow.

He fired - the bullet stuck between some damaged scales in her shoulder - just wide of the Akantor's mouth. Then it exploded in a shower of gore and scales, the wyvern expelled its sonic blast in agony, but thankfully into the sky.

He didn't waste a second, Abaddon leapt up, regretting it and revelling in it at the same time and charged in.

He slashed into the dazed monolith's stomach, a gash opening wide and frost melting with the heat of the blood pouring out, he slashed more and more, not trying to wound lethally so as to create as many wounds as he could - he was hacking like a logger might hack at an enormous tree.
He was aiming to take chunks out of it - it was too shocked and agonized to do much more than scream into the air.
He cut, and cut, and cut - he had made a small cave, he slashed through its spine, and finally cut out the back.

Stepping out covered in gore, he admired his handiwork, and he knew just how to top it off.

He leapt onto the Akantor's back and climbed up until he stood on her neck.

He summoned all his misery, all his pain, all his strength and above all, his rage.

He raised his sword, and slammed it down, right through the skull and into the brain.

The entire upper half of the Akantor's body has so far been supported by the remaining flesh, and a few scales and plates. Combine a few dozen tonnes of weight with a well placed, and brutally powerful blow aimed downwards and you have a lot working against those few things.

The Akantor broke into two pieces, Abaddon rode the head down.

He was having trouble breathing, he was exhausted, he was bleeding and still dazed.

He decided to have a seat on the fallen beast's head while the remaining monsters were finished off, with the sword still in reach, and Profusion at his feet he promptly fell asleep.


This message was edited by Leviathen on Jul 28 2009.

Brilliantly gory as always. Nice chapter, Leviathen.

So much gore...so much violence...unbeleivably descriptive...bloody brilliant, as always. Keep up the good work, mate!

I enjoyed it.

Chapter 23

Abaddon awoke.

He stared up at the stars blearily.

He sat up, with a lot of cracking, due to dried blood and stiff joints, shook his head and looked around.

The army had set up a camp in front of the tower, the inferno was gone, it just stood there, blackened, but standing as ancient as time itself - pointing defiantly into the skies.

The Akantor was still lying in two pieces, in an inch thick lake of gore - leaking gently.

Somebody had pulled a load of water buckets up from the river in the canyon, Abaddon walked over to it, stripped to his underclothes and carefully washed his hands, face and armour. He unloaded and scrubbed Profusion clean.

He picked up his sword - dipped it into a bucket of water, which promptly froze.

"That's kinda annoying." He remarked. The ice melted again, and the blade's glow dimmed, in a kind of apologetic manner.

He cleaned it off, and left his equipment to dry.

Abaddon wandered around, found a tent that Ashura had erected for them, (judging by Ashura's favourite flag being draped over the entrance) Changed his clothes to something a little less blood caked and went out looking again.

He found the largest tent he had seen, short of a circus tent and stepped inside, warriors were all around.
They all turned to him and raised their glasses, flagons, skins and tankards to him and went back to the food and conversation.

Abaddon sat down next to the Cathulii Chief and Ashura and asked before anything else:

"How many did we lose?"

"Many, two hundred Cathulii, four undeads - the rest of whom went back to their... uhh... homes Suladin minus one arm - he took it with him though, forty six mercenaries and a bunch of others." Ashura answered - he seemed vaguely cheery despite the losses.

Abaddon grunted. He stayed and chatted for a while, discussing what to do next and when to do it, Ashura wanted to go back to the village, try to lead a more relaxing life there - The village wouldn't be without food or materials for armour, weapons and fortifications for a while.

Abaddon secretly disagreed, there was still one thing he needed to do, one last hunt, it burned in his mind like the flaming tower.

He bid his comrades goodnight and stepped outside and strode over to the hulking ruin of the Akantor.

He ripped plates, scales and spines from its corpse and flung them onto a large wheelbarrow along with various parts of other monsters, and entire Remobras.

He wheeled it to the crafter's tents and set to work.


The next morning Abaddon stepped out donned in a new set of unadorned black robes, reminiscent of his previous ones.

Holding a new scythe, slimmer, sharper than the one before, blacker than night, with a blade as long as Abaddon's arm, Elegant and beautiful.

He gathered up the rest of his equipment and started to pack up.

Food rations, water canteens, couple of whetstones, various bandoleers of shots for Profusion, Bowgun maintenance kit, clothes repair kit, medical items and a few other random things.

He loaded Profusion, slung the scythe diagonally across his back and put the rucksack over that before he put his hood up.

Abaddon sought out Ashura and explained.

He explained that he would go to hunt down the last person on the list, that he might not make it back, that he would be leaving his sword and armour for Ashura to do with as he saw fit and lastly what he wanted Ashura to do.

He nodded towards the Cathulii Zoey lookalike which Ashura had since learned was called Christina.

"Look after her, that's all I really ask, and as much as I would love to bring you for this, I need her to be protected. Do you understand?" He said.

Ashura nodded, looked to the side - and launched himself at Abaddon.

He almost stabbed Ashura in the neck, old habits die hard - but then he realised Ashura was just bearhugging him.

Abaddon embraced him for a short time before letting him go, and saying goodbyes to him.

He said goodbye to the Chief and Christina. The latter being a tearful affair, surprisingly on both sides.

At last, taking a last look at the camp and at the Tower he set off towards Kokoto.

For one final hunt.






This is the end of No Rest For The Wicked, it has been an incredible thing for me, it is the first thing I have ever written from beginning to end and it has been a wonderful way to spend my time, I wrote for fun or just to vent my feelings. Abaddon was based off a lot of negative feelings I have from long before right up to around the middle and a little after this story, mixed in a little of some of my favorite characters from other things to get the image right in my mind, slapped some of what I believe to be my own personality on him and then formed him. Ashura was a character that was invented by The_Kushala_Kid, and an awesome guy he turned out to be. Amy... ahh dear old Amy... well suffice to say I knew a real bitch when I made her up.
The story is being continued (Currently in Zazomy's Minegarde's Campfire which is yet to be finished and in later stories that I will write, fairly soon), and there will also be a prologue so everybody can see how Abaddon got to where he was in this story. Zoey in a very loose sense is based yet again off another person in my life but I'm not going into that, this is too long winded as is.



Epilogue facts:


Abaddon set off to hunt Matt, who he finds in Osmancos, after a great deal of searching.
Ashura went back with the Cathulii to the village where they lived, where a wall made entirely of enormous monster bones was erected, with the Akantor's skull and ribs as the gateway.
Christina gave birth to Daniel Wotanchilde who would later be known as Sephyr, Ashura will be his mentor and teacher, along with a few other people.
The Hunter's Guild, after the Massacre at Schrade, was in complete turmoil, but at the end was reformed, as a greater entity, with much less by ways of corruption and autocracy.
Wyverns, after the battle at the tower were not as commonly seen as before, but after a few years their numbers were too back to normal.

The Chronicles Of Destruction shall be continued in Judgement.

Now for a rather long Thanks to list:

Zazomy, for writing a continuation of this, and being an inspiration, and almost a co writer to this.
Steve, Johnny and Rowan for being the best friends and mentors a guy could ask for.
My parents thanks for giving birth to me (God help you).
To my Auntie, for being yet another good friend to me.
And to many others for various reasons.
Lastly to God, for putting all of these people on this Earth to make it a better place, and to make this story come to life.
This was dedicated to you all.

I hope you all enjoyed this and will read my later works.

The End.

Nice ending I'm glad I started reading it.

Pretty good, Leviathen. Well done.

AWWWE!!! You're welcome Nick!!!! I'm glad I could be there to help ya! Great ending, although a tad bit of a cliff hanger. Amazing though, congrats!