Faust looked from one charging dwarf to another. There was still a considerable distance of a few meters between the points where the dwarves left the forest. Three stood close to him while two would have to run about a dozen meters.
Before Faust could charge forwards Titus shot forward towards the three dwarves closest to them.
Faust remembered Vitus’ training.
“If you ever find yourself faced with multiple opponents you must seek to eliminate the closest one as fast as possible to reduce your disadvantage.”
‘The old man sure knew what he was saying… let's put it to the test.’ Faust thought as he charged forward after Titus and almost instantly caught up with his superior speed. They were about to engage with three more dwarves, all heavily armored, wearing helmets, warhammers, and axes.
When they saw their Dwarf Berserker getting killed this fast they immediately noticed that their opponents were no ordinary guards. Yet it was too late.
Titus had already brought his large Bardiche down on the closest dwarf with all the power his large and muscular body could muster. The dwarf blocked but was forced to his knees. Titus then swiftly thrust the weapon at the dwarf’s face, penetrating through his skull, and getting his weapon stuck there.
At the same time, the second dwarf swung his axe at Titus, but Faust countered it with a powerful slash. His hands were rocked and his hands threatened to lose grip of the polearm, yet in the end, he maintained it.
‘Holy shit! This strength is incredible! It must be greater than even Cassius’!’ he thought as the axe struck down on Titus' shoulder, who grunted and finally managed to dislodge his Bardiche from the corpse’s skull.
His head turned to the dwarf and the large man kicked the dwarf right into his face, sending him a step or two back, giving Faust the opportunity, he needed.
‘This is it! Now!’ he thought as he swung his poleaxe at the dwarf’s neck in between the space of the helmet and shoulder pads. There was ring mail underneath, but the polearm swing was too powerful to be simply brushed off.
With an ugly crack, the dwarf’s neck broke and the poleaxe lodged itself into his throat, unable to cut it in two. The body dropped to the floor, devoid of life. The light in its eyes had dimmed.
‘So this is what it feels like to kill a humanoid…’ he furrows his brows briefly, a weird feeling overcoming him, looking into the bleak eyes of the bearded man collapsing before him.
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He held onto his weapon and as he tried to pull it out the entire corpse twitched wildly and Faust couldn’t get the weapon free since it was stuck in between pieces of armor. The third dwarf was only a meter from him and had his axe ready and lifted it above his head as he came into range.
Faust, shaken out of his daze immediately let go of his weapon as his body as if of its own volition, nimbly rolled to the side and in one smooth motion unsheathed his knife. Yet before he could attack he could see the dwarf staggering backwards before falling to the ground.
Faust could see a small axe stuck in between the dwarf’s eyes.
This time Faust didn’t waste time staring.
‘I need to keep fighting. The time for that is not now.’
Something had clicked inside of him. Like a cat stalking its prey, he looked at the two remaining dwarves, charging at them.
‘Any normal soldiers would have retreated already… these dwarves are something different. As Titus said.’
They raised their weapons high and shouted something indiscernible, that sounded like harsh spits mixed with a shout.
The two dwarves that were left arrived at them, and Titus, who was surprised by the dwarf’s prowess with his spear, got closer, wrestling with their staff weapons with neither of them being able to gain the upper hand with strength. Then suddenly Titus discarded his weapon, dove low, grabbing the dwarf’s legs, performing a takedown on the dwarf, forcing him to the ground.
‘Wrestling… I need to take care of the last dwarf to protect him!’ Faust thought and dashed towards the remaining dwarf. He seemed younger than the rest of them. He had black hair and a scar on his face. He glinted at Faust and readied his spear.
‘Perfect matchup, spear against long knife…’ Faust balanced the blade in his hand and circled with the dwarf carefully. The tension was tangible as both warriors knew a mistake could mean death.
The short, stocky warrior grinned at Faust, showing his teeth, while his eyes carefully monitored Faust’s movements.
‘I need to find a way to get past his spear… ah if only my poleaxe didn’t get stuck…’ he grunted in dismay, but was forced to react as the dwarf swiftly thrust forward lightly.
Faust bent his upper body backward, dodging the thrust. It was pulled back immediately and stabbed out again at Faust’s head. It looked comparably slow to Faust and if it had been anyone else they would have died then and there. Yet Faust twisted his body as the spear thrust to where his head was, and grabbed the spear with his free hand, closing in on his opponent.
Faust saw the surprise and wide eyes on his opponent’s face.
With a shout Faust, who had his knife in reverse grip, thrust it into the dwarves throat with all his might, throwing him to the ground like Titus previously had with his opponent.
Yet Faust was unable to grasp a clear thought, much less think of Titus. He fell right on top of the dwarf who landed on his back, looking up at Faust with widened eyes, the strength leaving his body.
He was attempting to breathe, his body spasming before he coughed up dark red blood that immediately flowed down his face. His hands grabbed at Faust’s weakly in a last desperate attempt to fight back.
Faust couldn’t look away and stared right into the face of the dying man he had killed.
The yellow eyes were wide open as blood flowed out of mouth and nose. He grabbed Faust’s arms with his before the light in his eyes slowly dimmed. After a few seconds, Faust felt the hands release their grip on his arms, falling down limply.
The dwarf was dead.