51.

The first of the monsters looked up with dull gold eyes, maw smeared wetly with crimson stains and it smiled wildly as it rose to its feet. The tattered remnants of the hospital gown clung to its frame in thin scraps of tangled cloth. It lurched forward in a shambling sprint, the ground shaking under its feet as it extended its arms toward Erak, claws outstretched and bloodstained.

Erak charged to meet it, lifting his shield up high and running into the beast with a bone rattling crash. His spear hit something, but Erak’s vision flashed red and then he was weightless, floating through the air and then pressure and pain. The rattling of armor as he slumped to the ground, his vision suddenly blurry as the large abomination stumbled backward, but caught itself.

The damn beast had thrown Erak nearly ten feet against the sidewall of the room. Erak sprang up and realized his spear was no longer in his hand. The rare grade weapon had torn a long strip of flesh and scales out of the creatures side, but had been knocked free and was laying on the ground a few feet away.

“Meat. Peel out of metal,” the creatures spoke, a growl that sounded like the thunder of a landslide, a half thousand rocks slamming against each other as they tumbled down a mountain.

Erak cracked his neck and charged the monster again. The blow had been jarring, but he was fine. He tucked himself low, shield braced properly, and bowled into the creature’s misfit. It was like hitting a concrete pillar.

The pillar broke.

Draconic scales and muscles yielded to Erak’s might and heavy armor, bending in half after resisting a moment. Erak churned his legs driving the creature backwards and into a wall on the side. Tile cracked and shattered as Erak drove the beast into the wall, burying it halfway inside.

Erak backed out, head swimming and legs woozy, as he turned and stumbled back towards his spear. The other bulkier abominations were getting to their feet while the three in the back of the large room had yet to stir. Their eyes watched him with the flat gleam of an animal, but the intelligence in them was impossible to deny.

Erak grabbed the spear and turned, legs growing firm, just as the Dragonman he had planted in the wall finished digging itself out. It roared, shaking the room with its anger, and then it was running again at Erak. Erak lowered himself, bracing for the impact as he let the deadly point of the spear aim at the beast’s chest.

Its eyes were wild and blue blood trickled from its wounds, cracked scales and torn flesh leaving it dripping. Huge teeth glinted in the light, scraps of flesh still stuck in its jaws as it leapt. Erak watched it come, never blinking as he adjusted his spear, moving in conjunction with the monster’s flight.

Steel punctured scale, and then Erak’s vision was just scales and hot blood. The two of them fell to the ground, the heavy weight forcing the air out of Erak’s lungs. It did nothing but lay there and then Erak felt the rush of Essence pouring into him. He shoved the dense monster off of him, the body thudding loudly, and got to his feet.

Five more of the bulky monsters were staring at him confusedly as Erak rose to his feet and their brethren lay there defeated. The sword wielder in the back was rising to its feet, sword clenched in its hand as it stared at him with a flame of interest burning in its eyes.

Erak rolled the dead dragon over with a foot, planted his boot on its chest, and then pulled the spear free. It emerged in a spray of flesh and blood and Erak turned to look at the other bulkier Dragonmen who were coming to their feet.

Pomp leapt on his shoulder, the sudden weight nearly making Erak sway. The small ice dragon opened his maw and roared loudly. It was the sound of an avalanche, of the frozen gales off the Ice Sea. It was desolation and death, the end of all as it swept forward.

Erak roared with Pomp, his mangled throat struggling with the mighty vibrations as he challenged all eight surviving Dragonmen. They answered beautifully.

The five bulky ones leapt to their feet and charged without thought, while the three in the back split up, sliding along the side of the walls as they showed a trace of tactical sense. Erak threw the spear, watching it flash across the distance in a heartbeat and impale the closest of the Dragonmen.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

The force of the throw picked the monster up and threw it backward, tangling the feet of the next closest as Erak drew his sword and stepped forward. A small part of his mind registered there was no flow of Essence to him and that the monster was still likely alive.

He ducked under a wild swing, letting the third of the monsters go sailing by him as it failed to slow its momentum. Erak stabbed the fourth’s leg, sword point splitting the femur and ripping out a chunk of thigh as he ripped it free. Erak spun and caught the full wrath of the fifth one on his shield, the creature’s wild charge forcing him back.

Erak backpeddled wildly to keep his balance, hammering the back of its triangular head with the pommel of his sword as it growled, claws scraping metal and teeth gnashing over the top of the shield. A fang slid through the visor, grazed the bridge of his nose, and then was gone. Erak growled back, dug his back foot into the ground and shifted and tossed the monster with a hip throw.

It flew and landed heavily on its back and began to scramble immediately to its feet. Erak was on it, blood running down his face and across his lips, as he panted heavily.

Erak slashed an outstretched leg, ducked a wild swing, used his shield to hit it in its chest, and then chopped down hard where neck met shoulder. Muscle and scale parted and the creature’s efforts stopped. It slumped to its knees and then fell to the ground, weeping blue blood into a sizeable pool that lapped at Erak’s boots.

The bloodlust aura was spinning out, filling the room, but the Dragonmen seemed immune to the fear component. They just raced forward, staggered now, at Erak with no thought in their minds. The three armed ones were nearly upon him, all of them past the doorway that Illyria and her squad of guards were in.

The princess stepped out behind one of the brutes and rose up to her tip toes, blade glinting in the light as she brought it down like she was chopping through a tree. Bone burst apart in a spray of gore and the brute fell like a marionette with its strings cut. The others didn’t react, their gazes narrowed on Erak as they raced forward. Erak smiled and pulled his sword free from their dead brother and met them.

The leading brute was the one that had missed with its wild swipe, and it hadn't learned its lesson. It didn’t slow, just running as if to bowl Erak over, and Erak dropped low. He stuck his shield out and connected with the beast’s waist and then rose up and over, throwing the Dragonman across the room. Then the next was on Erak, grappling with his sword arm, trying to restrain him.

Erak punched it with the edge of his shield, over and over, fangs and blood pouring out of its mouth as it refused to let go of his wrist and forearm. He could feel the metal straining, the pressure creeping in as the Dragonman exerted the totality of its focus on just holding Erak.

A second brute was limping toward him and Erak redoubled his efforts. His shoulder was burning, sweat and blood mingling on his lips, and he continued to hit his captor. They slammed into a wall, the two of them having lost their sense of direction in their stumbling grapple. Erak put a foot against the wall and waited.

As the limping abomination walked to them, he pushed off with a surge of strength. They crushed the injured one, its weak leg betraying it, and the three of them fell in a pile, with Erak on top. He never stopped hitting the abomination, his shield was slick with blood and the creature’s skull finally caved with an audible crack and then Erak’s sword was free.

He wedged the edge of the blade over the injured one’s thrashing neck and sawed. Blood flowed out and Erak felt the double rush of power running through him as both of them died. They were a tangled mess, and Erak was having trouble getting his legs out from the pile of limbs when he was one of the cudgel wielders coming at him, club raised high. Erak was outstretched, arms akimbo, and he felt a stab of vulnerability as he looked up at the creature.

Then a flash of blue and white and Pomp was slashing and tearing at the spawn’s eyes and face, the little ice dragon’s claws razor sharp. Erak rolled, not trying to find his footing at all, and then burst to his feet when he got clear of the corpse pile.

All around him the scrum had dissolved. One of Illyria’s men was dead, his guts piled around his feet, and the sword wielder was dueling two more at the same time. Illyria and her last guard fought the second cudgel wielder. Only the brute he had thrown was still alive, scratching deep furrows in the ground with its talons as it charged him.

Erak stepped into his swing, the falling blade connected with the Dragonman’s mad charge. The beast’s momentum carried it past Erak, sword ripping free from his grasp as the blade was still lodged in the monster’s thick skull. Pomp gave a pained cry and then his Essence body was bursting apart as the cudgel wielder crushed the small dragon’s back with a boot. The injured spirit bond flew toward Erak, looking thin and hazy before burrowing into the safety of Erak’s armor.

The spawn was a mess, one eye missing and long slashed across its face as it stood there with royal blue blood flowing and rippling down its face. It lifted its club without hesitation and moved cautiously toward Erak. Erak grabbed his knife and pulled it free. He really did need a second sword.