“HAVOC!” Wukong yelled at the top of his lungs, running forward with his battlestaff.
“Wukong!” shouted Trip. “There-” she began, then stopped. It was pointless to try calling him back, he was already in the thick of battle. She would have to handle the skirmishers herself while still keeping the rest of the battalion at bay.
As for Wukong, he whooped as he ran. Just as he did at Black Wind Cave, he jammed the tip of his battlestaff into the ground, pole-vaulting himself right into the middle of the mass of demons.
As he landed, he kicked a lion demon in the middle, causing it to fly back into a few other demons, all of them collapsing in a tangle of hands, tails and feet. Shifting his quarterstaff to a center-grip, he whipped it about, breaking heads and tripping feet. A jaguar demon thrust a halberd at him. He deflected it to the side with a flick of his quarterstaff, redirecting it into the torso of a lynx demon who had been rushing at him, a scimitar in each hand. For a moment, the jaguar demon stared in horror at his brother, sagging to the ground at the end of his halberd. The next moment, it was the jaguar demon’s turn to meet the ground, his throat crushed by a thrust from Wukong’s quarterstaff. Immediately after, Wukong backpedaled a few steps, fending off attacks from three cat demons. He dodged, he blocked, he deflected attacks, borrowing his opponents’ strength to attack others. After a few strikes, one grew impatient, abandoning his previous pattern of cautious attacks. He raised a furry arm high, before whipping the blade downwards, trying for a heavy chop to sever a monkey limb or two. Before his arm could even complete the attack, Wukong broke it by hitting his elbow, his blade flying past Wukong’s head to bury itself in another attacking demon. Wukong allowed himself a fierce grin, revelling in the melee. This was his element, in the middle of battle, surrounded by hostiles. Offense really was the best defence!
Ha! Look at this, the demons have learned to fear me! See them backing away… off to each side of the corridor… are they inviting me to battle their leader at the back? Good! These small fry finally realize they’re no match for the Great Sage Equalling-
BONGGG!
A Liger-powered battering ram, formed by Shi Hu running at top speed while holding a shield in each hand, crashed into Wukong. The impact sent the monkey sailing into the air, away from the village, towards the back of the formation of demons. While still in the air, bolts of flame hit Wukong, the explosions juggling him in the air like a rag doll. Despite the flames and multiple impacts, he seemed mostly unharmed. More bolts of flame continued to hit him without pause, without even allowing him to fall back down, instead causing him to rise even higher into the air. There was a long pause. The smoke cleared, showing Wukong’s ascent slowing down until he almost seemed to float motionless in the air. Which was when a massive boulder enveloped in flames dropped out of the sky, right on top of him. Flaming boulder met floating monkey, and together they crashed into the ground, sending up a great mushroom cloud. The earth shuddered, thunderous waves of sound buffeted all those nearby. Several demons nearest to the crash site fell senseless to the ground, their ears bleeding.
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Walking up to Scale-tooth who was gasping for air, slumped over with his hands on his knees, Shi Hu patted him on the shoulder. “You did well to put down that monkey. Take a breath, then see to that gunslinger. I’ll take care of the rest.”
Shi Hu raised his head and shouted “Skirmishers, from the sides! Brothers, down the middle! Advance!”
***
Skirmishers were to advance from the sides?
Spotsie shrugged. Since he was right in the middle of the bamboo stakes, he supposed it didn’t make any difference which direction he went. He was joined by his skirmisher brothers who had crash landed and survived, carefully picking their way among the bamboo stakes, heading towards the village walls. Once there, it would be easy to scale the walls, open the doors to the village, hold the villagers hostage, and end the battle. Then the fun and feasting would begin.
It really was quite poorly defended, just seven defenders, only two of which were actually doing anything. Granted, those two were quite fearsome. Many of his skirmisher brothers shared similarly cracked or broken bones from the single smashing strike of that mad monkey.
No matter, the battle would soon be settled. It was quite strange that the other five defenders just stood there, even when he and his brothers were nearing the village walls. It wasn’t even like they were being sneaky about it, what with having to pick their way through the field of bamboo stakes while injured, they were quite obvious about their intentions.
If would be different if the walls were manned, but he didn’t see anyone… wait, did he just see the top of a head, bobbing for a moment behind the wall? Huh, just a single defender, no wonder they didn’t dare show their face.
Another minute, and he would finally be clear of this thrice-cursed field of bamboo stakes. He would find whoever it was who had thought it up and eat them alive. Slowly, intestines first, as they watched.
From the corner of his eye, he saw one of the defenders, an older woman, turn back towards the village.
“CROSSBOWS! READY!”
Rows of villagers popped up behind the village walls, each armed with a crossbow.
“FIRE AT WILL!”
THWOK! THWOK! THWOK! CLANG!
At the same time that crossbow bolts buried themselves in his brother skirmishers, he managed to deflect one away from his head with his knife. He looked upwards at the villages and snarled, readying himself for the next volley.
Hah! My knife slash is faster than a crossbow bolt! Let’s see anyone else beat that!
That’s when he noticed another crossbow bolt, buried deep in his lower abdomen. Losing all feeling in his legs, he fell to the ground, legs crumpled underneath. A cold numbness spread upwards. His hands were in his lap, holding his knives, but he couldn’t move them. He couldn’t even feel them.
As the darkness closed in, all he could feel was a deep sense of disappointment. He would never be celebrated as the fastest knife fighter after all.
-- Chapter 42, End --