First, the large gorilla sized man landed with meaty forearms against Glick’s barrier, shaking it. Then the gangster that could step on air dove down with his spear. The mage among them sprinted to get close before she unleashed waves of fire that spread across the barrier. Crawling out of the hall, still clinging to walls, the man with the mask opened his mouth and unleashed a ball of energy.
Glick released the barrier as soon as the attacks landed and the dwarfs all shuffled backward while responding with counterattacks. Fezzer sprayed fire from his nozzle and managed to set the gorilla built man aflame, making him frantically run out into the rain to put out the flames. Bonfere threw vials at the mage who responded with a barrier of fire that ignited the vials, causing explosions that knocked her out cold. Doyle magnetically grabbed the spearman forward who was then kicked unconscious by the fat dwarf, Gromp, and his two sage symbol powered boots.
Lorbrite managed to land with his “Finder Hammer” on the top of the climbing gangster’s head and took him down in the process.
“Together now!” Glick commanded and brought the dwarves back together under his barrier when a second wave of attacks landed. The dwarf looked at the many glowing humans remaining and gulped nervously. Out of the gangsters they had taken out, there were plenty more left to go.
His barrier began to dim under the constant assault.
“That isn’t good,” Lorbrite worried. The other dwarves tightened their grips on their inventions and gadgets.
“I don’t want to die…” one of the dwarf cousins cried.
“We’re not going to die,” Glick assured unconvincingly. Behind them, the old dwarf had returned with his wagon and shot with his ballista at the encroaching gangsters. Seeing this, Glick cried out, “To the wagon!” The dwarfs broke out into a sprint toward the wagon, attacks of magic and weapons hurtling over their heads as they ran.
A gangster with sharp teeth in a full smile landed on top of the wagon, behind the old dwarf.
“Look out, old timer!” one of the dwarfs running called out, “Behind you!”
The old dwarf turned and saw a glowing fist hurtling at his head. He dipped out of its way and responded with a palm against the gangster’s stomach. The gangster scoffed and imbued mana that broke the wagon apart while at the same time, repelling the old dwarf away.
The old dwarf flipped through the air and landed on his feet among the other dwarfs.
Who is this old dwarf? Lorbrite couldn’t help but wonder.
“I’m sorry, youngins,” the old dwarf apologized seeing his vehicle reduced to firewood, “It looks like our way home has been crushed.”
“Together!” Glick ordered and summoned what was left of his barrier around his kin and the old dwarf. “We might not make it out of this alive,” Glick finally admitted.
A few whimpers came from the dwarfs while others among them steeled themselves for one last push, one last stand.
Boss Harvul called a halt to the attack when he saw all hope leave the round eyes of the dwarfs. “Pitiful creatures,” he sneered, “Dwarfs who don’t know their place.” He walked up close enough to the barrier to look into their square shaped faces, the other gangsters parted to give him space. “You dwarfs have a lot of gall to act up in such a manner in our human city.”
“I’ve been here in Soalde longer than you have, human!” Glick challenged, “I can guarantee it!”
Boss Harvul cackled, “And you’ll die here too.” He brought out a pipe to smoke then walked up closer to look Glick in the eyes, “Tell me who sent you and I’ll let you dwarfs die painlessly. Was it the Blood Jacks? Did the Dead Night gang finally find their courage and decide to attack?”
“You’re poison to our city, gangster,” Glick spat, “Your kind sicken me.”
“Oh?” Boss Harvul chuckled, “You’re not a part of a rival gang? You’re simply a couple of righteous dwarfs that want to act like saints?” He drew out a knife then dragged its point across Glick’s barrier, causing sparks to fly. “But do you know what happens to saints?” He stopped his blade and kept an even stare with Glick, “They always end up dead.”
“Boys,” Boss Harvul called out to his men as he turned to walk away, “Toss these sacks of filth over the city walls.”
The gangsters began to move in. The dwarfs prepared to fight to the last. A pale-skinned man appeared, licking his lips with a forked tongue.
Boss Harvul exasperated, “A couple of you catch Sabe and put him away somewhere.” He shook his greasy, slicked haired head. “God only knows why Big Boss wants to keep a beastman around…”
Sabe landed on a nearby gangster to feed again only to be tackled to the ground and pinned. Just then, from the entrance, a young man wielding a sword and carrying a dwarf walked out.
“Mhmm,” the young man hummed with disappointment, “The carriage that took that Red fellow has gone.”
The dwarfs saw the dwarf in the grips of the young man and all shouted in surprise, “Dwindle!”
Boss Harvul looked to the young man carrying the dwarf and smiled with false sincerity, “Oh, Young Mister Van. Good to see you have calmed down. You know, Big Boss only put you in that cage because you wouldn’t adhere to his orders.”
“I don’t know you,” the young man, Van, replied, “Are you one of my brother’s underlings?”
The word “underling” stung, but Boss Harvul knew he couldn’t do anything about it. Van was not only brothers with Big Boss but also an extremely skilled swordsman. Boss Harvul wasn’t sure anyone present could stop Van if he wanted to kill them all.
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“Those dwarfs,” Dwindle said, pointing at the dwarfs huddled beneath a dimming barrier, “They’re with me.” Van nodded and began to walk toward them.
“Whoa, there,” Boss Harvul said hurriedly as he intercepted Van, “These dwarfs are intruders, Young Mister Van. We are currently handling it.”
He looked to the dwarf in Van’s hand and was about to ask for the dwarf to be dropped when Van reiterated emotionlessly, “I don’t know who you are.”
Boss Harvul smiled a greasy smile and tried to reason with the young swordsman, “Young Mister Van…” A ringing of metal was in the air, causing him to stop speaking. Van’s piercing blue eyes then caused him to step back.
Dammit, Boss Harvul cursed inwardly. He had already witnessed Van’s sword skill when the swordsman sliced up some of his men like fresh fish after a misunderstanding. The other gangsters had experienced Van’s temper before as well and also backed away.
The ringing of metal halted and Van began walking again. Dwindle’s eyes were wide. He couldn’t believe so many vicious crooks would cower in front of someone so young.
How did Red beat someone like this? Dwindle wondered.
“Are you going somewhere, little brother?” A voice like silk purred.
The rain outside poured without end as thunder cracked and spilt the sky with a flash of light. The voice still however waltzed into every ear unimpeded.
Van ceased moving. Turning, he saw that a man identical to himself had appeared. It was like he was staring at a mirror of the future. The man was his spitting image except for a few added years and slight wrinkles.
“Big Brother,” Van acknowledged the newcomer.
The gangsters as a whole bent at the waist in a bow and shouted in unison with enthusiasm, “Greetings, Big Boss!”
Van’s expression contorted when he saw what was on his brother’s waist, “That’s my sword! Give it back!”
Big Boss smirked, “I don’t think so, little brother. Father has sent you here for me to look after you. You must adhere to my orders.”
Van frowned hearing their father be brought up. “Father also said for you to never hold that blade. He said your sword skills aren’t good enough to touch it!”
Big Boss scowled. He was a remarkable person who had transformed one of the weakest gangs in the city into one of the top ten most formidable criminal organizations. Nothing in this world could shake him because he was free to do whatever he pleased and own anything that he so desired. The only thing that could shake his confidence was when someone mentioned swordplay.
“You’re unworthy!” Van shouted, stepping forward while dropping Dwindle to the ground. The dwarf immediately went under the barrier with his cousins, not wanting to be left exposed out in the open.
Big Boss hated hearing his father’s words come out of his little brother’s mouth. As much as he loved his family, he loathed them just as much. Only his mother he could tolerate.
“My sword, give me my sword!” Van demanded.
“You want the family sword?” Big Boss asked, his eyes glazing over as a mania possessed him. “Well, then, take it!” He sped forward as he drew the sword in a cutting motion.
Cresting Swallow, his memory called out the name of the sword attack.
Van scoffed and parried the blow with the weapon he had confiscated, sending Big Boss tumbling, nearly falling to the ground before he could regain his balance.
“The path of the sword isn’t for you,” Van said solemnly.
Big Boss’ eyes were wide and manic. Van wouldn’t stop speaking their father’s words, and it was maddening. Memories of a disappointed older man standing over him came to his mind. He could still feel the countless hours he’d spent hacking away at wooden dummies and could still vividly see his father's back as he walked away while shaking his head with disappointment.
“You’re a mage,” Van continued, “Leave the sword alone.” Those exact words were what Big Boss had last heard from his father when he left home for good.
Big Boss was about to become further enraged when he finally noticed his men watching him. He coughed and straightened up, and dusted off his clothes. It was never a good idea to exhibit your weak side in front of people who worked for you.
Big Boss would have to let this momentary embarrassment slide. He threw a venomous stare at his little brother for a moment before slicking back the top of his long black hair and addressing his gang.
“That’s enough sparring for now,” Big Boss said, “I came here due to reports of intruders in the Goddess’ Lair.”
“Yes, sir,” a mid-boss informed, walking up then bowing before pointing at the dwarfs, “These dwarfs have assaulted your men and caused mayhem.”
“Kill them.”
“Right away, sir.”
Van stood in front of the dwarfs and shook his head, “No. I need these dwarfs in order to uphold the honor of the Feather Talon sword style.”
His words didn’t make sense. Why would he need dwarfs to uphold the honor of their family’s sword style?
“Little brother, you’re interfering in my business again,” Big Boss accused with resentment radiating from his bright blue eyes. Van refused to budge and it appeared that not even Big Boss could persuade him to do so.
The surrounding air became cold as ice built up on Big Boss’ sword. He swung his blade and unleashed a torrent of ice in the form of a sword slice.
Cresting Swallow!
Van scoffed again as he cut the crescent shaped ice that flew toward him into pieces.
“Little brother…” Big Boss grunted from between his grinding teeth. He turned to his men and hollered, “Kill the dwarfs while I handle my brother.”
The gangsters began moving in on the dwarfs. Van’s sword cut in a horizontal line that sent a wave of silver light that killed nearly half of the gangsters approaching while injuring or pushing back the rest.
Big Boss’ eyes were veined with fury. He decided then and there that he would send his little brother back to their father in a coffin. His father may never forgive him, but at least his mother would still talk to him no matter what.
Lightning gathered on Big Boss’ blade before he shot it out in a vertical upward slice.
Flight of the Mythical Roc!
Van’s expression remained unfazed as he shot out his own vertical upward slice in the form of silver light that extinguished the lightning on contact. Big Boss could never hide his envy whenever he saw his little brother cutting with silver light.
That silver light was what defined their family’s Feather Talon sword style and he could never recreate it no matter how much effort he put in training with the sword.
Big Boss sheathed his weapon and chose instead to begin creating sage symbols. Van's brow furrowed seeing the symbols form and became serious. A sage symbol completed and Big Boss called down a bolt of lightning from the sky that caused the ground to tremble when it landed.
Van held his sword in the air to block the entirety of the impact, but his arms still felt numb afterwards. He could laugh at his big brother’s sword skill, but his big brother’s magic was not something that could be ignored.
The ringing of metal was in the air.
He had no choice but to engage in close combat. A mage left to act unfettered in a fight could cause untold devastation. Big Boss stopped using large scale magic and began to fend off his little brother’s sword attacks with quickly made magic. Though they fought evenly for a time, Big Boss knew he would end up on top. He had a larger mana pool than Van and knew how to defend against the Feather Talon sword style.
On the other hand, Van did not know enough about magic to keep up.
With Big Boss drawing Van away, the gangsters had time to surround the dwarf barrier and start their attack.
“Hammer and wrench,” Glick grunted solemnly, “I thought we had a way out there for a moment.” He then noticed Dwindle showed no panic and wondered why. In Dwindle's hand, he held a badge that was blinking with light.
When Glick’s barrier finally dispersed, the gangsters went in for the kill. The dwarfs had to watch as death began to fall upon them.
A loud voice called out, “Scum of the city, beware!”
The gangsters turned to see a sage symbol carriage moving toward them from up the wet street, pulled by a giant red panda. They wouldn’t have dwelled on the sight of the vehicle if not for the emblem painted on its side.
The emblem was that of the Hunter’s Guild.