Guardian #0A722 felt pain. He actually felt pain. It was suppressed by the enchantments to a level that prevented distraction, but he was aware that he’d been injured. It was a minor injury, only bruised ribs, but it had been done by his own weapon and…

It meant his armor had failed.

Flexing, the thick trunk splintered further, releasing his form. A few scales here and there were intact but the Mana was flickering, the enchantments drained. It was a basic part of Guardian training not to let someone use your weapon against you and yet he’d been overconfident in his superiority. Clear and unequivocable superiority, which lead to overconfidence and thus failure.

His maul had overloaded, the defensive magic nullifying enchantments nullifying his own defenses, the weapon exploding. The armor had prevented him from receiving any major injury, though perhaps it was more than just some bruises. His ribs might be broken on the left side. There were bleeding lacerations all up and down his now bared chest and even on his face. One was must millimeters from one of his eyes and blood was already threatening to temporarily block his vision on one side.

The enchantments embedded into his skin were still glowing strong. The Overlay was indicating the beast-Man had lost consciousness. The damage his opponent had sustained was actually quite severe, though not fatal. That one wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon. Really though, what the hell was that? The other beast-Man was lying unconscious on the ground still, not having moved since just after the one had attacked him.

The other three Man had run or… no, they were just cowering. Two of them had soiled themselves. How pitiful. They were clearly no threat, though he would not take them lightly. That lesson was learned. Best to just kill them quickly and then grab the Sentinel and...

Where was…

The Mana was already failing, her enhancement spell having barely enough to fully ‘spin up’ and sustain itself for a scant minute. During that small window she’d attempted to position herself to help Alan, only he’d been moving at such ridiculous speeds she couldn’t possibly keep up.

Even so, the Guardian had been smiling. Smiling!. Why did the Sentinels even exist if the Talor had such monsters to protect them?

The monster in question was embedded in the trunk of one of the larger trees. The enchanted armor was devastated and yet somehow only shallow lacerations seemed to have been scored upon the man, as if through sheer density of flesh the Talor was indestructible. Trembling, she suppressed any external Mana emissions as much as possible. Her breathing was paused, the accumulated oxygen in her system sustaining her while her expenditure was very low. She was a hunter in this moment, waiting for the moment to strike from ambush.

So close, yet if she missed, she had no doubt the Guardian could kill her in a single blow. Even as she thought that, the man flexed and split the broken tree further. It teetered perilously but did not actually fall, looking like even a small touch would cause it to do so. She ignored it. If it fell on her or if she exposed herself, both would result in her death and the death of all of the Summons.

The Guardian lifted his hands towards two of the Man, who were understandably cowering behind some rather insufficient bushes. She wanted to cower too, but unlike them, she had the means to fight. Somewhat. She had the advantage of surprise, positioning, and a well sharpened short-sword she’d pulled from her Storage bag.

She uncoiled like a snake striking at its target. The Guardian barely even flinched as the blade slid between two ribs and deep into the chest cavity, stopping when it was almost to the hilt. The sword was more like a long knife. It wasn’t really large enough against this scale of a target. She didn’t score just a small wound though, this was as deep as the weapon could reach and her aim should have put it straight into the Guardian’s heart.

The huge head turned to her. A small part of her lamented that she was going to be beyond unwelcome in her homeland, though she had made the choice to flee when she could so many decades ago. There was no return to the Inner Land for a Sentinel, though she’d held some fantasy regarding that.

Killing a Guardian though? These were the elite, the resources of tens of thousands of average Talor were invested in each one. Ageless, super-powerful warriors who served as the anchors for the Talor army. An army which was small compared to the number of people it protected and yet not even Dragons dared to test it.

The Guardian… he wasn’t dead! The arms moved away from where they were pointed, no longer about to fire their spells at the two Man. Instead the thick fingers tentatively probed the laughingly small looking hilt and crossguard sticking out of the massive chest. The deep eye sockets looked a little surprised. Was he… was he looking at her with respect?

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“Perhaps, if you had managed another few centimeters.” Two fingers pinched the hilt and pulled the blade out. Blood poured from the wound, though it was already visibly staunching its flow. “A respectable attempt. You have earned your freedom, Sentinel.” Hope died within her. When a Sentinel ‘earned their freedom’, it always meant death. Always.

Tears ran down her cheeks and she resigned herself. Her Mana had run dry. The enhancement spell had only just enough to spool down, pushing the excess oxygen back out with each breath so when it fully shut off she did not die from its effects. She wouldn’t, couldn’t look away as the Guardian awkwardly brandished the short-sword.

“Allow me to demonstrate.” The blade pointed straight at her right breast, where her heart lay. The motion was a blur, the wound inflicted so quickly she almost didn’t feel it at first. It was surreal, seeing the hilt of her blade sticking out of her breast and feeling the sensation of something in her left upper back. Weirdly, she felt like if she could just reach, she could dislodge whatever annoying thing was stuck there.

She slumped over. The Guardian’s big hands caught her, slinging her over his shoulder. She would finish dying, carried like the corpse she hadn’t yet become. Pain struck her now and she felt paralyzed by it. Her heart beat hard, thundering in her ears. Each pulse brought more warm blood from the wound. The enhancement spell made a few futile attempts to stem the bleeding and it momentarily slowed.

If she wasn’t going to die quickly, then the continuing blood loss would kill her eventually. Why she was still alive was beyond her. Her limbs would only twitch when she tried to move them. Breathing was too painful, though her body stubbornly refused to stop doing it. Her heart continued thumping away, pumping her vital fluids out.

Her heart continued… her heart wasn’t in the same place anymore? She could feel it on the left side. Like Man! The Guardian was lifting the arm that wasn’t holding her secure on his shoulder. If she didn’t act immediately, the Summons would be killed for sure! The claws extended on instinct. They weren’t large, they weren’t really weapons, but they would do.

The Guardian howled in shock and pain for the first time as she dug the claws into his eyes. She was flung away and rolled onto her feet as she hit the ground. Spitting blood, she pulled the sword from her own chest. Her right lung was already mostly filled with blood. She didn’t need to survive, she just needed to win.

No longer enhanced, the few steps were driven only by adrenaline. The shaking in her legs grew steady for a moment, the fear and fatigue of blood loss temporarily driven away. The Guardian was stumbling around, holding onto his face. She cut along his hamstring and he dropped to one knee. An arm swept out with terrifying speed but she had expected it and had jumped clear. Closing the distance again, the sword buried itself into the soft flesh of the Guardian’s neck, deflecting off of the hard tissues there and some bone.

She circled for another attempt and realized it wouldn’t be needed. She’d cut his jugular and damaged part of his spinal column. The uncontrolled body movements soon slowed. The gasping and gurgling eventually came to an end. She vomited blood from her lung and noticed with surprise that the injury management portion of her enhancement spell had managed to stop the bleeding and was starting to grow stronger.

Mana was returning to the area in a great saturation! The Guardian! His Mana, both in his body and his enchantments were leaving the corpse even as life had left it. She was so thirsty. First though, she needed a nap… yes, a nap sounded so good right now…

Three conscious, three unconscious. Two of them badly injured. In fact, how Elean was still alive was a complete mystery to the three friends as they hastily rigged up gurneys so they could drag the three along. If they hadn’t beleived Elean’s warning that the Talor would come to kill them, they did now.

Despite John being the shortest and smallest of them right now, he was still clearly the most athletic of them, despite sporting a female body. They had barely been walking for ten minutes before the sweater had come off, leaving his upper body just covered by a spandex-like white sports-bra. Aaron totally didn’t notice. Really, he didn’t, he was frankly, terrified some elf super soldier Mk.II was going to show up and kill them all any moment now.

A day? More? Elean had thought they had time and yet, that monster had showed up within hours. They hadn’t heard him coming either, he’d just been standing there in their path.

No, they had to get the fuck out of Dodge and they had to do it NOW. They weren’t going to leave anyone behind, even though the ‘godling’ Alan had dubbed ‘Kid’ had just passed out, totally uninjured. Unlike Alan and the whiney woman, neither Aaron, Lucy, or John felt particularly hungry or tired. In fact they felt better than they had in years, probably in their lives. Dragging the injured in the makeshift gurneys make from branches lashed together by grasses that they had dared to run and grab from the prairie.

It wasn’t like Elean’s fears about being pinpointed were a concern. They’d already been. In less than an hour they’d gotten on the move again and they were making shockingly good time. Whatever the hell Alan had done to fight like that, Aaron couldn’t count on any of them being able to repeat. It hadn’t even been enough! Now Alan was a mass of swelling and probably broken bones. His left shoulder looked dislocated. They just didn’t have the slightest clue how to handle this.

Elean had a damned sword shoved through a lung and then pulled out and yet she’d stopped bleeding and was breathing, though raggedly. The third one was just unconscious, uninjured but not waking even when the slapped her. The pale skin was deathly white. Whatever had happened, she wasn’t getting up at the moment. They could only hope she recovered soon and helped with the other two, if they could lift them, two to a gurney, they could make better and smoother time.

Aaron had no idea where Elean had been leading them, but he knew it was away. Away from the prairie, which was the home of these death elves. So they would keep going, until they found some means of crossing the river. The forest looked thicker and wider on the other side. It was definitely not feasible to swim across with the injured. Hopefully there would be a ford or a bridge.

Hopefully it wouldn’t be guarded.