Erend pushed on. His hands began to go numb from the constant impact of flesh against his blade. At first, he'd been able to slash cleanly into flesh, but as time went on his concentration faded, and his blade impacted bone on more than one occasion. With each strike against their solid bones, he could feel the sturdy blade go duller. The first few orcs had been easy prey as they rushed in without a care in the world, but as time went on, they faced him with more care for their surroundings and his skills. Little by little he could feel his advantage slip away as the fights became battles of skill and raw strength rather than wit and tactics.

Erend dodged below a swing that went wide from an orc that slipped on a particularly uneven step. He stabbed the orc through its throat and shoved it down the pit. The throng of enemies had calmed. It still happened that they slipped on the icy stairs, but they rarely fell to their deaths as their comrades had caught on to the trick. From where Erend stood, his view was always covered by a huge muscular figure.

"There's not many left now!" Cordelia shouted from below. She'd stopped firing off her spell a few minutes ago. Her legs were feebly wobbling below her weight. Erend didn't respond to her call. He didn't want to risk losing his breath to something as stupid as talking while fighting.

Approaching him was yet another large orc. This one had dark red tattoos covering its shoulders and arms, it had large tusks that bent downward in what seemed like an impractical manner, and it wielded a pole-axe. Erend could feel the headache of an ill-suited matchup settle behind his eyes.

With a sigh, he Forced the orc to take a step back and darted forward in an attempt to sneak inside the orc's guard. The tattooed orc casually barred his path with the hilt of his weapon and gave him a solid shove.

Erend could feel the steps slipping out from under him as his knees buckled. The exhaustion of running and fighting for hours made him want to lay down and never get up again, yet fires of unyielding burned wildly in him. He gritted his teeth and stood up straight, tightly gripping the hilt of his sword.

The tattooed orc smiled at him and spat a glob of phlegm into the pit.

Erend scoffed, "What? Do you think you're hot shit cause you have a long weapon? Don't make me laugh you ugly pig." Behind him, he could hear Cordelia gasp. He that he'd been censoring himself around her in fear of coming off as stupid. He figured it wasn't to her liking with her being of noble birth and all.

The short blade of dark metal on the pole-axe scraped against his sword with a scream as he narrowly diverted a wide swing. He could hear how the blade whistled through the wind just inches above his head. Strands of his dirt-blonde hair sailed through his vision but quickly fluttered away as his blade snaked out in retaliation. The orc was too far to reach through normal means, "Extend," luckily Erend didn't need to conform to that.

White shining Source manifested at the tip of his blade, extending its reach by double. The Source extension hit the orc, it was sharp, but not as sharp as his sword. The orc's skin sizzled from the Source cut and filled the room with a smell of roasted pork. The orc staggered backward and caught its foot on a step, it tumbled backward making it down on its ass. Erend lunged at the chance to end the headache of a fight. With his blade still extended by the Source he didn't really need to step in too far, but it was far enough that the orc could kick him in the pit of his stomach.

He felt the blade sink into the skull of the orc as the kick sent him rolling down the stairs toward Cordelia. With a thud she caught him in his embrace, making her take several steps down the stairs.

"Oh no," she commented and gazed past him.

Erend turned to see what she was looking at, only to see the group of orcs once again advancing toward them, this time without the ice separating them. From here he could clearly see that there were only five remaining until they'd weathered the storm. In normal circumstances he would feel ecstatic at having fought off Gods know how many orcs, but the remaining three felt like a bigger challenge than those that had come before.

Erend supported himself with his sword and moved to stand again. With a raspy voice, he moaned, "Can you cast?"

"Maybe one or two," Cordelia groaned. "Any more than that and you might have to carry me out."

"Deal," he said while doubting he would have the power if it came down to it.

The next orc in line walked cautiously with its two-handed axe swaying back and forth in its loose grip. A guttural clicking of the orc's throat spread through the room.

Erend rolled his neck and shoulders then firmed his gaze on top of the ugly bastard. He darted forward with a growl. His legs screamed at him for rest. The warm sensation of blood spread in the palm of his sword hand.

"Sharpen!" he shouted and slashed with his blade, his throat burned in response to the Source as if it was on fire. The cut went clean through the first orc's weapon and body, its eyes were wide with surprise as the bisected upper half of its body slid down into the pit. The broken axe clattered against the stairs.

Erend pushed past the still-standing legs toward the next opponent without giving it time to react and slashed its lead leg off. The orc fell headfirst with a scream toward Erend, who pressed himself to the wall and let it smash into the stairs below, "Finish it!" he shouted back at Cordelia without turning. Behind him, he could hear the air whistling and the subsequent sizzling of Source against muscle tissue that he'd grown used to over the last hour.

Three to go.

The next orc didn't allow him to strike without getting ready, it stood with its shield raised, ready for what was to come. Source swirled inside Erend as he mobilized Force, throwing the cleft axe in a curved arc toward the orc. The axe-head sailed through the air gracefully with a thwopping sound. Wide-eyed, the orc was at a loss for what to do. If he blocked the axe with his shield, he'd leave himself open to Erend's onslaught, if he shielded against Erend the axe would wound him. Without any great options it did what orcs did best – it let out a fearsome roar and charged forward.

Erend smirked and redirected the axe at one of the orcs behind. A satisfying thump sounded out as it made impact with its target. He wouldn't know what effect it had before dealing with the shield-bearing orc, but an injured orc was easier to deal with than an uninjured one, and the hulking figures worked wonders in blocking the view for their allies.

Normally the restricted vision and lack of mobility could be used against the shield-bearer, Anya had taught him that much, but the stairs didn't offer many options in terms of movement. The shield would always face Erend, he needed that to change to be able to kill the damn orc. His Source was running low and his body was spent, yet more enemies were waiting behind. An efficient way of killing was what he needed, and nothing is more efficient than not having to do it yourself. At least that's what he concluded after some thought.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"Get ready!" he shouted and charged to meet the orc.

With a sharp whistle, his blade cut through the air. The orc readily lowered his shield and slowed its pace to meet the blade. Erend felt the Source thrum to life inside of him as he opened a Pocket in the trajectory of his swing. As he saw the tip sink into the sludge-like consistency he let go of the hilt, fully expecting his blade to fall inside the spell, and bent down in a crouch while grabbing the orc's shield.

The orc was taken aback by the development. Initially, it must have expected a clash of two forces – not being pulled by the young man. Its momentum was great and made it easy for Erend to throw himself back down on his back while guiding the orc into a graceless fall toward Cordelia.

The hulking figure painted a comic picture as it flailed with its arms while sailing through the air. It didn't fly for long, yet the stairs were steep enough that the impact would have it gravely injured.

Cordelia's shocked gasp was followed by the telltale sizzling of her spell ending a life. Erend rolled to his stomach and moved on all fours across a few steps before he got back on two feet to face the next orc. The one he'd thrown the axe was nowhere in sight, neither was the axe.

"Must have fallen," he mumbled. The Source once again thrummed to life as his Pocket began to form.

The last remaining orc stood frozen. Erend would probably feel the same if someone had single-handedly wiped out the squadron he was part of. Luckily it hadn't happened to him.

Deftly, he pulled out the sword from Pocket and cut at the orc in the same fluid motion. The orc jolted awake from his terror and met Erend's sword with his mace. The hilt of his blade trembled from the impact. Erend pulled his sword back and attacked again, this time toward the orc's legs. With a jump, the orc managed to dodge the strike once more and went on the offensive. It let out a ferocious roar as it started hammering away at him.

Erend had started to look down on the orcs' inferior skill, it made them easy pickings for someone who fought while using their heads. At least most were, he realized as he faced the onslaught of a mace. The weapon didn't need much finesse and relied more on the user's strength. In the hands of an orc, it turned out to be a frightening tool. So much so that it made Erend wonder why not all orcs used the weapon and instead opted for sharp weapons.

Each strike drove him further down the stairs. His knees felt weak below him, they trembled from the impacts of mace on the blade's edge. He could see the dark metal edge of his sword grow more blunt as the battle went on, yet couldn't muster the strength to riposte and the fight.

"I can help!" Cordelia shouted from below.

"No! Save your strength," Erend spat back while narrowly avoiding the mace. The resulting shockwave of the blow pushed the hair out of his face before the wall cracked beneath its might. Now!

Erend lunged inside the orc’s guard as it dislodged the mace from the crater it had formed. The orc tried to keep him away with a kick and a wave of his arm, but both efforts were easily dealt with by a few slashes of Erend's blade. It repelled backward with a scream and turned its back to Erend in an attempt to flee the encounter.

Probably should have thought of that sooner.

Erend gave chase up the stairs with a storm of groans and moans as his calves screamed in rebellion. The orc didn't get far until it slipped on the ice from before, allowing Erend to pierce its neck.

Erend helplessly fell on his ass as he gasped for breath, "You bastard! Why did you have to run," he complained.

It didn't take long for Cordelia to join him, "What now?" she asked, still pale from the exertion.

"Let me just catch my breath," Erend groaned. "We can't afford to stay here. I'm way too tired to take on another one."

"If it makes you feel any better I think you did great," Cordelia smiled and grabbed the lighter from him. With clumsy steps, she climbed past him to the spot of ice and began defrosting it with the con tool.

Erend turned to watch her but quickly recoiled with burning cheeks when he realized that the poor woman still wasn't wearing any pants.

"Umm," he muttered.

"What?"

"... Nothing," he decided to keep quiet in fear of starting yet another battle.

"Weirdo. I think we can get past now without having to fight for our lives. Still though, watch your step," she turned to him and offered him a hand to get up.

Erend gladly took it and followed her up the infinitely winding staircase.

"By the Gods, I can't wait for nighttime. I could sleep for days," Erend chuckled.

Cordelia massaged her neck and replied with a moan, "Tell me about it... I don't think I've ever been this tired."

"Want a bite?"

"You should probably keep the casting to a minimum," Cordelia commented.

"I'm pretty sure Pocket places no strain on me."

"Pretty sure isn't completely sure," she turned and smiled. "So let's not."

"Alright, I guess it can wait. I just thought that if more orcs are waiting up top then I'd much rather face them on a full stomach."

"Don't jinx us! There's a chance they sent everyone available down after us."

Erend rolled his eyes, "They'd have to be more than stupid to do that."

"Have they appeared to be anything more than that to you?"

Erend halted his steps with widened eyes, "I... I guess they haven't."

"If they were, we'd all be dead or captured a few days ago."

"Have we been overcomplicating things?"

"I don't think there's such a thing when one's life is on the line. Besides, the trickier the plot is the less likely they are to figure us out. No need to make things easier for them."

"You know what? You're more clever than you look," Erend joked.

"And you're less charming than you think," Cordelia quickly retorted flatly. Somehow, Erend knew she was smiling where she was walking up ahead. Just the thought of that warranted a hushed laugh from him.

The two kept walking up the winding stairs, exhaustion had made their conversation die out rather quickly. The stairs were quiet, more so than they had been for hours. Without the constant snarling and bickering of the orcs, the pit felt desolate and eerie. The whole thing only became further amplified by the dull flickering light of the torches lining the walls. For a staircase as dangerous as this, it sure wasn't well lit.

Cordelia staggered in her steps. Erend knew she was more tired than she dared put on display. He couldn't understand why she did that. He wouldn't think less of her even if she told him about it. They were both tired, there was nothing odd about that after the day they'd been through. In fact, it would be odd if they weren't tired. Maybe she was trying to keep his spirits up with a show of strength? Erend nodded as he walked behind her, it had to be something like that.

Finally, the doorway came into view. The door still stood open. Not a sound leaked through.

"Must be our lucky day," Erend whispered.

Cordelia nodded at him with a somber expression. They swapped places with Erend taking point. Silently, he drew his sword and pushed the door ajar. The halls were dark and quiet, the torches that had lit them before had been extinguished.

A cold hand found its way to his shoulder, "I don't like this one bit," Cordelia whispered. He could feel her hot breath against his ear, it sent shivers down his body.

"That makes two of us..." he whispered back and stepped into the dark embrace of the corridor. Not even the murmur of arguing voices could be heard. With only the whistling winds and the echoes of their footsteps, they paced through the halls.