James was confident in his skills, and the power afforded to him by stone skin. A welling sense of invincibility churned within his body. He was a lumbering boulder, rampaging downhill. In place of an avalanche, he was a crazed mercenary, running like a madman. The situation unfolded as expected and he practically flattened the three.

The fire mage was the first to go, his spell barely fazing the lumbering giant, and a walking semi-truck hit him, travelling at fifty kilometres an hour. If it wasn’t for his natural constitution, he would be red-paste on the grass.

Instead, he flew into a tree, likely breaking several important bones, while his two companions had a less fortunate encounter. Taking their heads off and a crunching sound delivered these poor fellows to the afterlife.

With his foes defeated, he turned to his fellow companions. Noticing the dire straits, he rushed over to aid them. “Al, my boy, are you hurt? Do you need a potion? I got lots of them.” He offered the life-saving elixirs like a frantic pedlar of sample wares.

Al shook his head, instead directing him to aid the downed Joan. Glancing at her injured form, Felix fussed over her, his eyes tearing up. Before he could start hyperventilating, Al grabbed his shoulders, turning him to face him. What he saw scared him to his core, concealing him from James. He had the man treat the sister.

Shifting back to the blubbering Felix, his eyes were blood red. “Calm down, your vampire is showing.” He whispered, blocking the view of anybody nearby.

Naturally, he didn’t calm down just from words. Instead, his breathing grew louder, and his family descended. The visage of a young boy was gone, replaced by a predator. “They hurt her; I'll kill them!” The child vampire proclaimed with all the fury he could muster.

Al held tighter, straining against the boy's ever-growing strength. “Get a hold of yourself!” He barked, lowering his voice. “There are people watching.”

Luckily, this brought him back from whatever darkness was pulling him away. His eyes ceased to glow, and his body no longer heaved. The fangs, once on display and ready to strike, retracted, leaving only the oddly pristine teeth of a human.

Felix tried to steady himself, but the welling fury bursting out of his chest threatened to drag him back. Looking to Al for direction, glancing back to his sister. “You need to stay here; James will keep you guys safe.” Al all but ordered the boy.

Thankfully, Felix ignored the petulant impulse and obeyed. Noticing his sister rousing from her slumber, he went to her side. With the two youngsters taken care of, Al turned to James. “Where’s Sally?” He asked.

The towering man, still covered in stone, merely smiled. Casting a furtive glance north, Al traced his gaze to where the battle was thickest. Rising from a crouched position, he eyed the caravan guards defending their charges from the horde of bandits. He could make out several phrases, as they all charged at each other like raging beasts. “Death to the impure!” One of the axe-wielding snake men bellowed.

“Die human scum!” Some sort of birdman squawked as he parried a sword strike.

Yet, despite all this insanity, they could hear another familiar voice. “Bring it on, you sons of whores!” Sally taunted, facing three at once. Brandishing her scimitar, she moved with the grace of a ballet dancer and screamed insults like a drunken sailor. “Is that all you limp dicks got!” she taunted the mace-wielding beast man.

The creature that appeared to be half man, half bear roared like an animal, breaking away from his formation, much to his associate's chagrin. The half-bear lunged at the petite woman, her opening assured. She glided to the left, missing the mace by a hair's breadth. Twisting around to strike his shoulder, oddly, she only inflicted a minor wound before retreating.

The bear man halted, his fury slowly giving way to reason, realising his target had evaded and delivered a strike. He ordered his associates to surround her. They did so once he gave them proper motivation. The beast established his dominance, striking fear in each of them, and then set them to task.

He grinned like his next meal was at hand and took a step forward. Suddenly, he stopped, and his rampage ceased. Pain lashed his shoulder, the wound pulsing with heat. The sensation was unlike anything he had ever felt. Fire ran through his blood, scorching his insides. He laboured to breathe, his heart pounded in his chest, and his eyes blurred, unable to keep focus.

The pain was enough to bring him to a knee. Fear took hold, giving way to pure rage. Instead of flowing blood, black tar-like was seeping out of his wound. His faint magical sensitivity detected something sinister making its way throughout his body. His gaze made its way to the enemy. Her smile was all he found.

“What have you done?!” He demanded.

Sally raised her blade threateningly, targeting each of them, marking their future deaths at her hands. “I’m a witch, you dull creature. We curse people.” She declared with sarcasm. “Hell, back in the day they burned us at the stake for this shit.” She spat.

Naturally, her enemies didn’t take to this news well. Their leader soon hacked up blood, a sign for the others to get out of dodge. They fled like the cowards they were, leaving the cursed fellow to die. “Cowards!” He bellowed, ignoring his eventual death.

He ignored it so well that he charged with reckless abandon. He raced at his target, coughing up a lung or two on the way. Sally felt flustered for a split second, not expecting his strong willpower.

The mace vacated his grip, and he went bestial, launching at his foes, claws out, ready to rend flesh like his ancestors. He was faster than expected for a man his size. Catching her off guard, she barely missed the strike. His serrated claws sliced their way through her midsection. Blood spewed from the wound as she quickly compressed the injury.

He turned to his victim, smelling the blood, its faint aroma exciting the long dormant animal instincts. He a grin etched its way across hi face, completely ignoring his death throes. Taking a step, ready to strike again, he toppled over with a dull thud, blood evacuating from every orifice.

Having a slight reprieve, Sally inspected her wound, but before she could examine it, the cowards from before tried to shiv her from behind. Ducking out of the way, narrowly missing the dagger strike, she brandished her scimitar and cut the man down. Taking advantage of his overextended strike, eliminating another of her enemies.

The third arrived, axe raised high, a mad look in his eyes. Being only a short distance away, her energy quickly fading and the end seemed near. With death arriving at the hands of a cowardly bandit, she could only laugh.

“So, this is how I die.” She exclaimed in that moment between life and death.

Instead of a rusty instrument of death descending, there was only the sound of wind, followed by a dull thud. Looking back, she noticed something obvious. The architect of death was now dead himself. Somehow the poor fellow lost his head, literally.

Looking down at the decapitated head, noticing his expression morphing from rage to confusion and finally going pale. The body dropped, spewing thick red blood all over the grass. Naturally, she found herself confused about how that poor chap lost a certain important body part.

The answer became apparent as I scanned the environment, revealing that a wizard called Al was standing on top of a carriage. Cloak billowing in the wind, appearing like a regal hero of the night.

“Behold, your hero has arrived!” The mad wizard announced to everyone in attendance.

His stature was mighty over everyone. His voice pierced the very fabric of the conflict, rendering peace for only a moment. Now at peak confidence, he continued his monologue. “Your saviour is here, rejoice the innocent and fear me the guilty, for I...” Before he could finish, a random face in the crowd flung an axe at his head.

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The weapon thrown haphazardly, ungracefully, glided through the air and despite the lack of finesse, the snake man that threw it smiled wryly. Likely he thought his skill was superior and he could eliminate a human wizard. Surprised, Al barely reacted to the incoming blade of death. Instead of death arriving, the axe’s wooden handle painfully conked him on the head.

“Ow!” He bellowed in pain, holding his right eye. “Mother...” He attempted a curse, unable to finish.

The expression he adopted after regaining his vision seemed like a curse on his enemies. And he scanned the field and noticed a snake boy in the corner. Pointing an accusatory finger at the now-dead man. “You, your dead snake boy. I'm coming for you, not even your pathetic gods will protect you from me!” Throwing away all pretences of heroism, Al embraced barbarism.

How did that get through my defensive spells? He wondered internally, but was too angry to think.

Ascending to the sky, he glanced down upon the peasants below, taking the full view into focus and then abandoning the sight for the snake boy. The snake man was pale and scrambling to flee. Al only smiled before willing a blade of wind.

It struck true and severed the man’s leg, eliciting a howl of pain. With that single move, pandemonium resumed, the fighting treading a path of death and destruction. Sally, instead of being horrified as one would think reasonably, embraced the anarchy, yelling at her compatriot. "Healing potion, you insufferable lug!" she roared, and two seconds later, she flung a vial of red liquid into the air.

Catching it with skill and grace, she chugged its contents like a man dying of thirst. She gulped the healing liquid, and her wounds regenerated, making her feel great and ready to continue her killing spree.

“Which one of you bitches is next!?” Brandishing her cursed blade, swiping a wide arc across the field, she dared all comers to take a piece.

Naturally, the few remaining were not eager to fight the mad woman flinging around a cursed scimitar. Still, despite their fear, they snarled like beasts and charged. “Death to the humans.” They all clamoured as they ran like kamikaze soldiers.

Matching their insanity, Sally barrelled forward, slicing cleanly through the first dim wit she could find. Cutting him across his belly, giving his guts an all-express ticket to the outside world, the beast-man barely had time to descend his war axe. The pain brought him to his knees, and someone swiftly escorted him to the afterlife.

Dodging a blade strike from her side, she parried the new enemy, her scimitar plunging through his temple and out the back of his head. The wolfman seized up and jerked like an epileptic, likely not realising he was dead.

Surprisingly, the third enemy reached her in a flash. He stepped to the side with inhuman speed and brought down his mace upon her skull. Barely blocking in time, the two weapons collided, lessening the blow.

With his form now in full view, she noticed his eyes were bloodshot and wide-eyed, and his mouth had a blue liquid stain. Glancing to the side, she noticed an empty vial. “You're an alchema, huh?” She muttered, not directing the words to anyone.

The beast-man replied with inarticulate snarls before finally managing a sentence. “I took the blaze root.” He said, before chuckling like a madman.

With those words, her eyes grew wide. “But that will kill you!”

Recalling a conversation with her fellow alchema, her partner in crime, James. Blaze's root was a hyper stimulant if brewed with various other rare herbs. It could confer various magical properties, such as speed, strength and resistance to magic. It also burns out the user and their death is certain. The other name for the brew is the Final Clash.

Realising this fellow is both super strong and utterly insane, she retreated to make up some distance. This was futile, as he immediately leapt forward for another strike. Narrowly dodging the mace, he was only stopped temporarily by a gust of wind striking his side.

Al flew above the crowd, sending wind blades flying everywhere, now promptly annoyed, the souped-up beast man bellowed to his remaining confederates. “Archers, shoot the flying man!” He commanded, and they followed suit.

Several arrows fired from all directions. Al swept his hand across, manifesting a wind barrier to repel them. “I am an air bender bitch!” He taunted, attaining peak confidence until a sharp pain penetrated his back. “Ow!” Screaming in pain and looking back, noticing the sharp implement embedded.

Reaching behind and tearing the object of his pain away, the bloodied arrow fell to the ground. Why is my defensive spell not working? He screamed in his head, slowly turning around, his eyes blazing and as quick as thought, he located the object of his ire. A part man, part plant shakily aimed a crossbow. He was terrified.

By instinct, Al raised his palm, aiming the deadly weapon, with a thought his palm ignited in flame, sending a gout of fire. The blast rendered the shivering crossbowman to ash, scorching the earth and sending the amateur fire mage launching into the sky. The recoil of the spell launched him back.

Ascending like the Artemis Seven mission, the dragon fire acted as a makeshift jet engine, propelling him into the sky. Screaming at the top of his lungs, the lull in the fight soon ended, recommencing with their bloodshed. Just a man made his way to space.

Sally ignored the fellow reaching orbit and made her way to greet her foe. The beast of a man revealed bloodshot eyes and fixed upon her. “So, I’m guessing you guys are the Legion?” She asked.

The beast grunted before delivering his response. “We are legion. You are abominations.” He declared, thrusting an accusatory finger her way.

“Yeah, like that makes sense. You're just a bunch of racists with an excuse to kill people. Why bother with the charade?” She asked, raising her scimitar.

Returning his mace in kind, he responded. “There is no charade, we are her to purge your kind for the atrocities your disgusting race has committed against us.” Moving into a battle stance, he spoke again. “Come at me human, if you dare!” He declared with a certain pomposity.

"Atrocities? What about the atrocities your kind committed in the last war? I heard that in the last war, your kind pillaged entire villages, raped women, and condemned children to the fire." Instead of retreating, she stepped forward.

“Atrocities we committed in response to your atrocities.” He reasoned with a few grunts.

Tilting her head, she processed that statement. “There is a logic error there, I think.”

The words fell on deaf ears. “Enough of this. I will cave in your skull.” He declared with a beastly war cry.

“I see, when logic fails, let the mace decide. Very well, we shall settle the argument with our weapons.” Declaring with finality, she braced for the attack.

His advance was fast, faster than she expected. He closed the distance almost instantaneously. His weapon approached from her right, ready to shatter her left temple. Barely ducking in time, her blade reached his exposed chest. Instead of steel meeting flesh, she only sliced the air.

Her foe was quick as the wind, slipping away and out of reach. His speed boggled the mind, her eyes barely registering his movements. Darting left and right, he moved in and out of her periphery before striking. Luckily for her, his feral state ensured his strikes were less than accurate.

Yet it became more apparent that one lucky hit and her life would end. Realizing she was slower than her opponent, she dashed towards the tree line. The mad beast narrowed his bloodshot eyes, likely confused at her shift in strategy. Eventually, confusion made way for the thrill of the hunt.

With a burst of speed, he launched himself with reckless abandon, closing the distance again in an instant. Raising his weapon with deadly intent, he battered the unsuspecting prey. Instead of steel meeting flesh, the air was the only casualty.

A split second before the weapon met flesh, Sally fell to the ground. The mace sailed past her and slammed into a nearby tree. The force behind the swing was immense, embedding deeply into the trunk.

Stunned by her dodging and his overextension, by instinct he looked down, noticing the ascending blade. The blade struck him across the face from the cheek to the eyebrow, accompanied by several slashes to his torso and arms. Weaving between his body parts, Sally guided her blade to every corner of his body, only making superficial cuts that would normally have little effect.

Once her bloody work was done, she rolled to the side and retreated. Ascending quickly, she assessed her foe with cold eyes. The wounds sustained started to blacken and ooze; the curse made quick work of his body.

Instead of his final death throes, the beast roared, tearing away the weapon from its imprisonment. His body jerked violently; shaky hands gripped the weapon, a pained look in his eyes. Pain turned to wrath, and he barrelled forward like a reckless bull.

“Damn, this guy has an aversion to death.” She exclaimed, readying her weapon.

The mass of pain and rage approached before suddenly another equal, yet opposite force arrived. Another mass of muscle moved in front of the oncoming enemy, slamming into each other. Sally felt momentarily perplexed. Her confusion didn’t last long. The figure came into view.

“James, what are you doing? I had him.” She queried, genuinely annoyed.

James ignored her outcry of indignation, instead focusing on holding back his foe. They were testing their strength against each other. His enhanced body withstood the wrath-fueled beast before him. The two sides engaged in an epic tug of war, each side trying to overcome the other.

Suddenly, the beast man jerked in pain. Looking down, James noticed the scimitar sticking out of his throat. The smug face of Sally accompanied the sight at the end of the blade. “That’s cheating.” He remarked before letting the now-dead beast slump to the ground.

The two glared at each other. James looked on disappointed, Sally simply smiling as if this was the funniest thing in the world. “I know it's unsporting, but the guy was a dick.” She explained with flawless logic, at least she thought.

James shrugged, accepting the situation as it was, and both turned to the sky. An incredulous look at the human rocket traversing the heavens. “What the hell is up with him?” Sally queried, prompting a shrug from all present.