“Riot! Riot!” Genevieve screamed, rushing over to her mortally wounded lover. Riot had been struck with a nearly lethal blow across his chest that left him lying on the ground unable to move or react to anything around him.

Genevieve cut down every warrior that stood in her way. Men left and right fell to her sword as she hurried with great haste to Riot who was still in imminent danger.

She found herself faced with the warrior that had struck Riot down so mercilessly. Sizing him up, Genevieve was not afraid of the man towering two feet over her head. She stared at him intently with anger and bloodlust in her eyes. The massive man was menacing with biceps bigger than her head and shoulders as broad across as the length of her sword.

Genevieve did not hesitate or even think about her next move. She roared her deafening battle cry and rushed at the behemoth of a man that stood before her. Unphased, the massive brute smirked with confidence and prepared to take on his considerably smaller opponent.

She attacked the man relentlessly, constantly being blocked by his massive shield. With just a long sword between her hands, she had no way of protecting herself against his offensive. The large warrior slashed quickly at Genevieve, but she was incredibly quick and nimble, ducking underneath the swinging steel and diving to one knee where she could smoothly land a blow on his left calf, slashing it clean across. Blood spurted from the infliction, spraying a pattern over her armor and face.

Falling to his one remaining leg, the behemoth exclaimed in furious anger. His eyes and face no longer showed overbearing confidence and smug, but fear. He was genuinely afraid of the fearless woman in front of him and tried helplessly to back away from her.

Genevieve was not done with her opponent and continued on the offensive. He attempted to use his massive shield to keep a wall between them, but she danced around him like it was a game, cutting him down ruthlessly in different parts of his body: his stomach, chest, and thighs. Blood painted their armor and the ground below. The stench of sweat and death shattered the earthly aroma of air, leaving nothing but the sickening smell of battlefield aftermath.

She dashed swiftly behind him and stabbed through the back of his forearm, forcing him to drop his shield. She quickly pulled the sword out of his arm, causing a dense trail of blood to follow. The heavy steel crashed onto the dirt, sending dust and blood flying into the air in all directions. The man groaned loudly through the excruciating pain he was dealt.

Stolen story; please report.

The bald warrior stared at Genevieve one last time with defeat radiating from his broken-down body. He slowly bowed his head beneath Genevieve who now stood two feet about him. Without another second of thought, she raised her sword with both arms ready to finish off her kill.

But she hesitated.

Instead of giving the man an honorable death, she hit his helmet as hard as she could with the blunt side of her sword, knocking him out.

“You’ll live but never fight again,” she said. Sheathing her sword onto her back, she surveyed the battlefield, realizing that the fight was finally over. Hundreds of bodies lay on the ground around her. Many of these men and women were from her own tribe, and this thought gave her an overbearing feeling of grief.

However, all of those that remained standing were also members of her tribe. They had won this battle and soon they suspected that a deity would reward them for their victory.

Genevieve suddenly remembered that Riot was lying on the ground somewhere nearby and she hurried to find him.

“Riot! Riot! Where are you, love?” She shouted, feeling incredibly hopeful that her beloved was still alive and breathing.

She noticed him being treated by a medic and came running to his side. Dropping to her hands and knees, she hovered her face over his and whispered, “It’s time to wake up Riot. The fight is over.”

He groaned softly and spoke in a groggy voice that she could barely understand. “errgh am I dead this time?”

Genevieve smiled and kissed him lightly on his cheek, displaying a stunning shimmer in her bright blue eyes. “Not this time, Riot. Or the next. I told you that you can’t die on me. Ever.”

“Ever?” He asked with an incredibly confused look on his face. “That’s not entirely under my control, but I suppose I can try my best.” He muttered softly, with short brakes between his words and breaths. “How’s that sound?” He asked, trying to force an awkward half-smile.

“Your best is what got you here, Riot,” she began to scold. “I need you to do something different. You shouldn’t be out here fighting like this.” She was genuinely concerned and serious.

“I can’t just let you come out here and fight without me. I have to make sure you’re safe. That’s my duty to you,” he tried to explain but Genevieve was not listening.

“Please,” she said purely with concern in her eyes. “I don’t want to see the day that you don’t get back up. There are other things you can do to please the Gods and you don’t have to keep watch over me. You’ve seen me handle myself. You know I can handle myself, and I want you to find another way so that we can both ascend.”

“Okay Genna,” he paused, sounding less than unhappy. “I’ll do something different. I’ll appease the Gods another way.”

“You better,” she said softly. “Now let’s get you all patched up. I better see you at home for dinner.” She smiled heartily and stood up next to him.

The horse wagon picking up injured warriors arrived to pick up Riot who could barely stand on his own. Genevieve and the medic helped him onto the wagon and waved him off.