Arrows rained down from three different positions. Tirion's shield caught two, but the third forced Estella into a spinning dodge that turned seamlessly into an attack as she sent her chakrams whirling toward the nearest archer.

"We need better cover!" I shouted, ducking behind a pillar. The ancient stone was already pockmarked with arrow impacts. "These columns won't hold forever!"

Purple shadows writhed at the edges of my vision as Lysa began weaving her magic. "Working on it!" Dark tendrils shot upward, forcing two of the archers to abandon their positions.

My sword felt pathetically inadequate against ranged attackers, but I wasn't completely useless. I studied the gallery layout, noting how the archers moved between firing positions. "Estella! Third pillar on their right – that's their fallback point. Cut it off!"

Her chakrams changed course mid-flight, curving around to block the predicted escape route. A curse from above confirmed my analysis as an archer was forced to dodge in the opposite direction – right into Lysa's waiting shadows.

Critical hit! Enemy combatant immobilized

But these were guild hunters, not amateurs. The trapped archer's companions immediately adjusted their formation, one laying down covering fire while another began a flanking maneuver.

"They're trying to split us up," Tirion called out, his shield groaning under another impact. "Force us to divide our defense!"

"Then let's give them something else to worry about." I yelled. “Tirion, can you hold their attention?”

"On it!" Tirion called out as he charged into the open and slammed his fist against his shield with a thunderous clang.

Taunt

But the archers remained disciplined, choosing to ignore Tirion for more valuable targets.

"It's not working," I called out, ducking another volley. "We need something more." A memory from the tavern flashed through my mind, and I couldn't help but grin despite the situation. "Hey Tirion, remember that 'tactical advantage' we discussed?"

His ears shot straight up in alarm, then flattened. "You can't be serious."

"Got a better idea?"

Tirion's grumbled response was lost in the whistle of arrows, but his hand moved to his collar where Estella's 'gift' hung. The silver bell caught the torchlight as he unclasped it.

Inspect A delicate silver bell, clearly crafted for aesthetic rather than combat. The kind sold to noble ladies as jewelry or, apparently, to tease serious knights about their ears. Estella's Gift: Common Quality Effect: Creates melodious sound when shaken

The bell now securely fastened to his left ear, he made another charge and yelled to gather the attention of the archers. With each movement, the silver bell chimed delicately - a sound completely at odds with his heavily armored figure.

Taunt Lv2: Tinkle Taunt Enemy Aggro towards Tirion +50% Special Effect: Melodious Distraction Note: Effectiveness enhanced by absurdity factor

The archers paused their assault, staring in confusion at the incongruous sound.

Even in the midst of combat, I couldn't help but grin. Somewhere behind me, I heard Estella's distinctive giggle.

"I told you it would work!" she called out triumphantly. "The bell makes everything better!"

"Just... just don't tell anyone in the Adventurers' Guild about this," Tirion grumbled, even as he effectively held the archers' attention with his jingling defensive stance.

"Too late!" Lysa called back, a hint of amusement in her voice. "I'm definitely telling everyone."

The absurd strategy was working though - the archers seemed almost mesmerized by the rhythmic tinkling, their attacks becoming increasingly uncoordinated as they focused on Tirion.

While Tirion held their attention, I studied the ancient stonework of the gallery. Those pillars had been standing for centuries, but the recent tremors from our battle had opened hairline cracks in several key spots.

"Lysa!" I called out. "That support beam - can your shadows reach it?"

She followed my gaze, understanding immediately. Her magic surged upward, dark tendrils wrapping around the weakened stone. With precise pressure in exactly the right spots...

The crack of splitting stone echoed through the chamber. One of the archers spotted the danger and shouted a warning, but too late. Chunks of ancient masonry rained down on their position, forcing them to abandon their carefully coordinated formation.

But we'd made one crucial mistake. In focusing on the archers, we'd missed the rogue who'd circled behind us through the confusion. I caught a flash of steel in my peripheral vision but my turn came a fraction too slow.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Critical hit! HP -25 Light bleeding effect applied

Fire traced across my shoulder as the blade bit through leather and flesh. Not deep enough to disable, but the warm trickle of blood told me how close it had been. Another inch and...

Estella's chakrams sang through the air, forcing my attacker back before they could follow through. She moved like she was dancing, each step precise and graceful even in combat. The rogue was good, their blade work spoke of years of training, but they couldn't match her fluid unpredictability.

"You really should learn to watch your back," she chided, forcing the rogue back with a series of rapid strikes. "What kind of knight needs a dancer for protection?"

"The kind that recognizes the value of their allies," I shot back, finally finding an opening to bring my sword into play. The rogue was skilled enough to parry my attack, but having to defend from two directions disrupted their rhythm.

We fell into an almost rehearsed pattern – Estella's chakrams forcing our opponent to block high while I looked for openings low. The rogue's technique was excellent, but they couldn't maintain their defense forever.

As blood from my wounded shoulder trickled down my arm, I guided it deliberately toward my sword. The blade glowed as blood flowed down its mana channels, filling them one by one like circuits completing. The metal grew warm beneath my fingers as crimson lines traced geometric patterns across its surface.

Blood weapon activated Warning: HP drain active Current drain rate: 4 HP/minute

My sword hummed with a low, almost subsonic vibration. The blood-filled channels pulsed with a dim red light, giving the blade an ominous glow. It was beautiful, in a grimdark sort of way. Time to test its efficacy in battle.

The rogue's eyes widened at the sight of my blood-enhanced blade. "That's a nasty toy you've got there," the rogue said, blade weaving in a defensive pattern. “Blood magic is the most vile of them all.”

“Says the guy whose job is to sneak in the shadows,” I retorted. My enhanced sword cut through the air with newfound weight, forcing the rogue to commit fully to each block. The rogue was good – really good. Even with Estella and I working in perfect sync, he deflected or dodged most of our attacks. But slowly, inevitably, we were backing him toward the gallery's edge.

HP: 75/165 Blood drain accelerating Warning: Current HP loss rate exceeding safe parameters

I ignored the warnings. My shoulder wound should have mostly stopped bleeding, but the blood weapon continued to draw from it. The drain was getting worse, but I only needed to maintain it for a little longer.

"Your left!" Estella called out. I dropped into a defensive crouch just as one of her chakrams whirled past where my head had been, forcing the rogue to interrupt their counter-attack. The moment's disruption was all I needed.

Blood Edge

My blood-enhanced blade struck sparks from the stone floor as I swept it in a low arc. The rogue was experienced enough to recognize the danger immediately. He started to leap away, but Estella's chakrams had already cut off his escape routes. For a fraction of a second, indecision flickered across his face.

That moment of hesitation was fatal.

Critical hit! Enemy HP reduced to 0

As I swung it upwards in a perfect arc, my blade erupted in crimson light. Time seemed to slow, and I watched with a strange detachment as my sword left a trail of glowing red mist in its wake. The rogue tried to bring their weapon up, but too late. My enhanced sword cut through their guard like it wasn't there, then through leather armor, flesh, and bone with equal ease. For a fraction of a second, I saw their eyes widen in surprise – not fear or pain, just genuine shock that anything could cut so cleanly.

Then the moment passed, and physics reasserted itself. The two halves of their body fell in opposite directions, accompanied by a spray of blood that painted ancient stonework in abstract patterns. The red droplets hung in the air for a second before being drawn into my blade's hungry channels like iron filings to a magnet.

Satisfied with the clean kill, I moved to deactivate blood weapons. Nothing happened. The sword's hunger should have diminished, but instead it seemed to be growing stronger. The lines along the blade began to spread, crawling up past the hilt and onto my arm like crimson circuit traces.

Deactivation failed HP drain accelerating

My fingers wouldn't release the grip no matter how hard I tried to pry them loose. The blade's vibration changed from a pleasant hum to something deeper. The sensation resonated through my bones until my teeth ached and my vision blurred.

Warning: HP drain critical HP: 55/165

"Let... GO!" I slammed my sword arm against the stone wall with desperate force. Pain shot through my shoulder, but the impact disrupted whatever hold the weapon had on me. For a split second, I felt the blade's hunger spike. Then my fingers finally loosened.

The sword clattered to the ground, its blood-filled channels pulsing like an angry heartbeat before slowly fading to dull crimson.

Blood weapons deactivated

I flexed my trembling fingers, watching the geometric patterns slowly fade from my skin. That... had not been normal weapon behavior. Just what was that…

A whistle of incoming arrows snapped me back to the more immediate problem. Right. Deal with the existential horror of murderous weapons later. Survive the very real arrows first.

Tirion's ears twitched as he tracked the remaining enemies' movements. "Two more on the upper level," he reported, shield already moving to intercept the next volley. "Moving toward the eastern exit."

"Got it." Lysa's shadows writhed upward, tendrils of darkness forcing the archers to constantly relocate. Their coordinated firing pattern broke down into desperate hit-and-run shots, most of which Tirion's shield caught with practiced ease. Each time they tried to establish a new position, his strategic repositioning forced them into increasingly worse angles.

"Enough."

A person leaped off the upper gallery. The impact of her landing sent tremors through the ancient stonework. A green-skinned orc lady, her bulk making even Tirion look small, straightened up from her three-point landing. The massive war axe she carried looked like it could cleave through one of the gallery's pillars with a single swing.

She raised her arm and the barrage of arrows from above ceased.

"My apologies for the enthusiasm of my men." Her voice carried a cultured accent, completely at odds with her warrior's bearing. She gave the war axe a casual swing, leaving a visible distortion in the air. "Let's call it here, shall we?"