twenty
The creature bellows a piercing screech as the light reaches its eyes, and with that I drive the blade straight through its skull. The flesh that makes contact with the blade burns into cinders, but it doesn’t heal like it would have with steel. It glows, swallowing the creature whole until it’s nothing but a pile of ash.
Relief doesn’t come, not as an unending number of war cries echoes through the chasm behind where the creature stood.
Daemons travel in packs.
“Run,”
the archangel whispers behind me, and when I hesitate, he says it again as an order that rumbles power through my bones.
My feet shuffle backward before I turn and run in the direction we were heading. With this darkness, there’s no way to tell if we’re even still going the right way, but I can’t focus on anything other than getting ahead of the herd of monsters.
I take quick and precise steps. The archangel follows with his sword gripped tightly in anticipation. I doubt that they could kill him, but dragging the archangel down to the Darklands may even be a worse fate than death for him.
He overtakes me now, but it’s obvious that he’s still not running at full speed. He flicks his hand forward in an effortless motion. Small balls of light appear with each movement, moving in a symphony to create an illuminated path ahead of us. I watch in awe as the magic dances across his palm before floating away into the air like fireflies. I almost ask why he waited until now to use it, but the answer drifts through my mind before I do.
There’s no point staying in darkness when they already know we’re here.
With each step we take, another light forms, continuing to craft a path for us. The growls and screeches follow us closely, and I wonder if there’s any way that I’ll make it out of here alive. Worst-case scenario, the archangel will be able to fly himself out of here. I doubt that I can climb that cliff face faster than a single daemon, let alone .
Three hundred feet ahead, the fireflies illuminate the start of our ascent, the familiar glowing red leaves growing along the wall. My body aches as I will myself to move faster, my muscles screaming in protest. The archangel doesn’t increase his speed, despite his threats to leave me behind at any sign of danger. I wonder if he’s doing it for my sake, or if he’s just trying to appear human. I assume it’s the latter.
There’s no way I’m going to make it.
Heavy footsteps move quickly behind me, pounding to the rhythm of my heartbeat. I try to narrow my focus on the sound of crackling lava beneath my feet, watching every step I take. One misstep and a horde of flesh-hungry daemons will be the least of my worries.
Venomous claws graze the back of my arm as an aggressive snarl vibrates through my bones, but I dodge the touch quickly enough to avoid the icy poison. I can see the wall. We’ll be able to make to the bottom of the cliff face with ease.
But I won’t make it up.
Daemons may be dim-witted and clumsy, but they climbed out of the chasm that day with inhuman speed and not an ounce of fear. The only chance I have is to turn around and fight. The archangel can leave me for dead, but if I try to climb that wall, I will be ripped off it within seconds.
My steps grow slower, my mind engaging in an internal battle, but one side has already won.
The archangel looks back at me with a disapproving frown, as if he knows what I’m about to do. I simply smirk at him, tilting my head in a slight nod before skidding to a halt.
I don’t give the creatures even a single moment to notice that I’ve stopped before I swivel and drive the sizzling blade into the one closest behind me. The daemon screeches as its tree-bark flesh burns to ash before I even have time to remove the blade.
They begin to stumble over each other, their feet screeching along the ground, attempting to stop in their tracks before slamming into the wall. The creatures pause for a moment, each wearing a look like a dog that’s just been asked if it’s hungry. I don’t give them any more time to work up an appetite before I lunge towards the next daemon, cutting clean across its torso.
The archangel takes up a stance on my right, wielding his sword with the kind of precision and expertise that only comes with being alive for hundreds of years. A kind of majestic fighting that I’ll always admire.
After taking the head clean off a towering figure with ease, the archangel flicks his hand again to rearrange the fireflies surrounding us and light the battlefield. There has to be at least thirty daemons, but it’s hard to gauge when another appears from the shadows once one falls.
I’m going to die today.
For a moment I envy the archangel’s immortality, wishing for nothing but time as Jeremy’s smile flashes through my mind.
Time. That’s all I need to do: buy us time.
Every move I make is carefully calculated. I remember every combination we’ve trained in the past two years.
A slice to the leg to stun; a cut clean through the neck to kill.
A kick to the torso to slow it down, before twisting around and plunging the blade through its chest.
All the moves were designed to be used with a normal blade, to prepare us for anything. With a frost blade, all it takes is a decent cut and the creatures fade into ash.
The archangel kills the daemons twice as quickly as I do, but it still feels as if he’s holding back. I wonder what kind of true power lies beneath the calm facade, what kind of devastation he could cause.
We’ve killed our way through at least of them now, and I actually think we’re going to make it. I might survive this. I might see Jeremy again.
With one hand, I grab the towering tree branch that grows from the head of the daemon in front of me and use it to hoist myself up onto its back, driving the frost blade into the back of its head. As it dissipates, I land on my feet in a crouch at the base of another beast and drive the blade into its foot. The flesh singes and sizzles, but the daemon recovers and grabs for me with a raging fury. I roll out of the way and to my feet, but the beast grabs at my hair before I can act.
Its claws intertwine with my braid, pulling my head backward until sharp teeth chatter next to my ear. Its sadistic smile hovering above me blurs my vision, ice-cold venom dripping onto my shoulder. I let out a cry before driving my blade backward, hoping to hit something. I make contact with its hip, which is enough to make it drop my hair, but yet again, not a fatal blow.
“Slayer?”
The archangel’s distant call is faint, but I can’t tell if it’s because my ears are still ringing with the creature’s war cry.
“You just won’t die, will you?”
I land a swift kick to its left knee, and it stumbles forward, but grabs for me as it does. I’m pulled to the floor in a blur of tree bark and darkness.
Claws reach from between the cracks in the ground, glowing with the hellish red that tries to pull me under. They pierce through my sleeves as they hold me to the ground and dig into my upper arms. Searing pain follows closely behind.
I look down to see black veins spreading from the point of contact down my arms and up to my collarbone. Headed straight for my heart.