Undying Blood - Beta - Chapter 06 (Patreon)

"Left!"

Blood was pouring into his eyes from the gash in his scalp, but Francis wanted to kiss the armorer who had made and given the helmet.

A clawed swipe by a tigerkin or something had struck his head partially, and while the claw had raked across his scalp, the chain and pad had prevented it from taking more off.

That had given him a chance to thrust and somehow his attack hit home, piercing through its side and into its chest.

[ Swordsmanship Skill Increased - 17 Novice ]

[ Shield Use Skill Increased - 12 Novice ]

His skill continued to go up, each second he was alive and managed a blow or a strike it appeared to get better.

Michael and Gregory were still standing.

He wasn't sure if Henry was alive, but there wasn't time to look around.  Already the line behind him had joined the fight, and the true skirmish was taking place as more spells flew overhead.  Some landed in the mess of animals and people on both sides.

So far the gods must love us as we have been lucky!

Michael blocked a strike from a wolfkin, as Gregory thrust with his sword.

Seeing the opening, Francis darted forward two steps, his weapon slashing at its hamstring.

It cried as its left leg buckled, unable to stand against the three of them working together, finishing it quickly before it could do any more harm.

Another came, landing a kick that sent Michael tumbling back and the pair worked together, staying close and closing formation.

Someone from another line came up on their right, their sword stuck through the wolf's side.  It backhanded the warrior, snapping his head off like a twig but that gave Francis an opening and he took it, thrusting his sword into the beast's chest and yanking it free while holding up his shield to block the creature's clawed hand.

Instead, a foot came out and caught his midsection, sending him tumbling backward and into his brother who had just stood.

Breathing was hard, and it felt like a mule had just kicked him.

Wheezing, he tried to stand, but found it hard until Michael grabbed his shield arm and helped him up.

"Breathe! It hurts but breathe!"

Trying to regain his breath, Francis finally had a moment to look around.  His brother was before him, shield up and sword ready, as he saw the carnage around them.

The birds... they will grow fat...

A hundred yards of corpses... stretched out across so much space.  

"We should run!"

Michael's words hit him and felt wrong as the same thought attacked his mind.

Flee! Run away!

Gregory turned, fleeing and as he did a wolfkin bit down from behind on his shoulder and neck, ripping its head upward, blood gushing like a fountain.

Running is death.

[ Mental Resist Check Successful ]

[ Mental Resist Skill Increased - 11 Novice ]

Gone was the pressure in a moment.  He had been slowly gaining skills all this time.  

Michael turned around, a look of fear on his face, preparing to retreat as so many of the others around them were.  

Slapping his brother in the face, Francis watched Michael's eyes return to normal, quickly moving to block an incoming attack from a charging tigerkin.

The claws raked across his wooden shield, an opening appearing in the wood as the claws were sharp enough to shred it.

"DO NOT FLEE! STAND STRONG!"

The calming sensation hit him, but there wasn't time to worry about what was trying to influence him.

A warrior ran right into the back of the tigerkin, making his second follow up attack miss and grazed his leg, claws slicing the leather on his thigh, opening up his skin about an eighth of an inch.  As blood flowed and the tiger was off balance, Francis thrust with his sword, right under the chest piece and up.

A grunt came as those yellow eyes went wide.

It turned, teeth coming for him but a sword intercepted the attack, driving deep into the open maw and penetrating the skull.

"You ok?!"

Wincing from the pain in his leg, Francis nodded, and was glad when Michael moved to his right.

Another pressure of intimidation came, causing him to turn and look at the woods off to the left.

Somewhere, he sensed whatever was trying to make people flee.

"Michael! We need to go this way!"

"We can't flee! You heard the order!"

"We're not fleeing! There's something out there! Trust me."

In the midst of the battle, they locked eyes and gave a nod to each other.

They were in this together. No matter what.

As one they turned and raced toward the forest, doing their best to help when possible and avoid any direct fights, ignoring the commands that came.

Everytime Michael slowed down, Francis pushed him, calling out his name and forcing him forward.  

[ Mental Resist Check Success ]

[ Mental Resist Skill Increased - 13 Novice ]

Something out there is really not wanting us to fight.

It took half an hour to make their way to the edge of the men and then there was about one hundred yards of open space.

Unsure what would happen, Francis took a deep breath.

"We need to run, don't stop. Both sides might attack us.  No matter what we move!"

"You're certain this is right?"

He could almost close his eyes and sense where the pressure was.  Deeper in the woods, up ahead, there was something, and it was the source of this attack.

"Yes, I'd bet my helmet on it."

A chuckle came and his brother took a deep breath.

"Let's go!"

Shouts came from the line as they moved toward the woods.

Halfway there nothing had attacked them and for a moment it felt like they might escape when a presence far greater than before struck them.

"DO NOT FLEE TO THE WOODS!"

It made Francis stumble and caused Michael to come to a halt.

Shaking his head, it took a moment.

Blinking his eyes it felt like he was crying but when he turned to see his brother, blood had started coming out from the corner of his eyes.

"Michael! Let's go!"

He slapped his brother twice before yanking on his leather armor, dragging him the rest of the way into the woods.

The moment they stepped into the shadows the assault faded and Michael began to gasp for air.

"I... I... I couldn't breathe.  My brain... It hurts... I got a new skill."

"Mental Resist?"

"Yes! You too?"

Glancing around, Francis held up his hand.  

"No time, we need to move. Stay close and follow me."

Wiping the blood from his face, he pointed ahead and to the left.

"This way."

Both men were breathing hard, jogging in woods so dark it almost felt like night.  The canopy above wasn't thick but something seemed to steal the light from the forest.  The deeper they went, the darker it got and Francis started to slow, sensing that they were getting closer and his brother was struggling to keep up.

"Stay close, step where I step and don't talk," Francis whispered.

He saw his brother nod and they began to move, the youngest brother setting the path, doing his best to avoid any twigs or leaves that might make noise as they crept through the woods.

Each second felt like hours as they moved and the presence that he had sensed on the battlefield was overwhelming here.  Something, just about seventy yards ahead in a ring of trees was out there.

He held up a hand and they squatted lower to the ground.

Francis scanned everywhere he could see in the darkness.  It wasn't pitch black but so many shadows were everywhere.  It allowed him to move around like he had been but it also meant there might be an enemy hiding.

Would they leave something so powerful out here alone? Would it even need something to guard it?

The little he knew about magic was that casters were dangerous.  From afar they could destroy armies.  Get in close and that was where they were weak.  Yet this didn't feel like any magic he knew.  It was different somehow.

Using his fingers, he pointed at the tree circle and then made some walking motions with his fingers.

Michael shrugged and so Francis picked up his sword after leaning it against his leg to tell his brother the plan.

Each step was slow and deliberate and as they came near the opening of the circle of trees a howl sounded from somewhere further in the forest.

Shit... we gotta go or there might be reinforcements.  

Waving with his hand, Francis crept up to the tree that was where the opening had been.

Large hardwoods had begun to grow in a death circle.  The tree that had been in the middle died and these had come back from its roots.  Often considered safe places to camp because it limited how one might reach those inside, it also meant you were trapped.

Peering around the bark he saw what was standing in the middle.

Dark as night stood a purple skinned creature. It looked like maybe a lizard but it was about six feet tall.  Dark black robes of some kind of skin moved as it moved and in its clawed hands was a staff of a material he had never seen.

It was making noise, low and quiet but still chanting something.  Its eyes were closed.

Using his head to motion for them to go in, both crept to the opening, seeing only fifteen yards away was their target.

Michael seemed to be moving like he was drunk and Francis knew it had to be the pressure of magic or mental attack they were under.

As he took a step inside the ring, a shimmering wall appeared and the eyelid flung open revealing a yellow pair that glowed.  It's head snapped in their direction, and it's mouth opened.

Weird noises came as it started to point its staff at them and Francis shouted as he took off.

"Michael! NOW!"

His brother stumbled behind him toward the creature but there wasn't time to waste.

Something was building up at the end of the staff, some kind of force he could almost see, shimmering around the purple or black orb at the end.

Shouting, Francis ran at it, off to the side slightly, trying to keep it from being able to hit both of them with whatever it was doing.

Two steps before he would make contact, a wave of power washed out from the staff and it seemed to slow down everything.

His weapon moved, slowly, cutting through the aura but at like one tenth the normal speed.

"Foolish... you are not strong enough... How did you come and find me?"

The lizard's mouth wasn't moving, and Francis realized he heard the sound in his head.

"I'll kill you."

It sounded like his voice took ten seconds to speak, everything so slow and then the lizard grinned.

"Fool, your friend it not--

A sword flashed through the air and slammed into the lizard's face. Sadly it had been the hilt and not the blade but the impact undid whatever spell had been in effect and everything suddenly jumped into normal time.

His blade continued its swing, and the staff somehow managed to get in its path, deflecting the strike.

Michael appeared on the other side of the lizard, a small dagger in his hand.  Blood was pouring down his eyes and nose and he looked ready to pass out at any second.

Swinging again, Francis tried to keep the caster distracted, watching as sparks flew when his sword hit the staff.  It snapped off half way, leaving a sharp point, but Michael came in from behind, wrapping his hand around the lizard and plunged the dagger into its stomach area through the robes.

A loud trilling sound came and the creature spun, flinging his brother off it like a ragdoll, sending him crashing into the trunk of one of the trees, falling to the ground.

It had only taken a moment but in that second, Francis saw his brother's head split. Like a melon under a hammer.

He's dead... because of me...

Eyes darting back to the lizard that had its back to him, Francis knew the truth.

No... Michael is dead because of this monster! Because of all of them!

Anger like before flooded him.

A lifetime of being the weakest, of being the one put down and picked on snapped.

Whatever wall had held back all that anger was unleashed and he shouted!

No, he roared.

From behind he stabbed the broken sword into the lizard's back, scoring a thrust that put the entire foot into its body.

Seeing the same twist coming, Francis pulled the weapon out, holding up his shield and felt the staff slam into it.

It splintered, sending a spay of wood everywhere, breaking his arm and spinning him around.

Using that momentum, somehow amidst the pain and agony of his body, the anger in his heart took over and Francis spun, blade striking the arm with the staff and severing it almost in half at the wrist.

It dropped its weapon, hand dangling by a few tendons and skin, and lunged at the human who had injured it.

Both went to the ground and Francis felt his chest getting torn open as he forced his broken arm into the mouth of the beast that was trying to bite him.

Blood flowed as it chomped, but the beast was choking as he shoved the useless arm further down its throat.

His right hand thrust over and over into the chest of the lizard, black and purple blood burning as it dripped against his skin.

Pain was everywhere but it was nothing compared to the pain of his life.

"If I'm dying here, I'm taking you with me!"

The beast tried to react, tried to sit up, but somehow Francis had managed to wrap his legs around its body, keeping it close, using the extra space to really make each thrust count.

Over and over he pierced the beast's chest.

His own lay open, sliced open by its claws.

Francis hadn't realized he had managed to cut off the other hand of the lizard as it tried to block his strikes.

It gurgled, blood flowing from its mouth, dripping into his open wounds.

The world was going dark and yet the fire inside prevented it from taking over.

One last primal roar of his own, blood spewing from his mouth was his answer.

The broken blade with its one sharp tip drove into the exposed throat and into the creature's head.

It shook, quivering as the beast bled everywhere over Francis.

And then it fell, crushing the one who had killed it, sword still impaled in its chest.

Breathing wasn't possible but that was okay.

I... I did it... I'm sorry Michael... I got it...

Darkness, regret, fury, anger, pain.

His body was on fire.

Yet the darkness finally took over.