Faye pushed up on her knees, straightening from her half-crouch. She spat out the taste of vomit and grimaced over the pain in her head, taking a deep breath.
Concentrating, she pulled herself together. She was out of mana, the barest whisper of fuel left inside her prevented her from collapsing completely.
I have to stop doing this to myself, she thought. If the way those poor people at the Einnua Steading was indicative of lack of mana, she would hate to accidentally make herself that sick through constantly bottoming out her mana.
Either way, there was a more pressing problem. The [Ice Wall] that Gavan had erected around the rage-infused leader of the bandits was fading, and it was clear that the man inside had realised his imprisonment was coming to an end as the ice was cracking from within.
“Alright,” Faye called out, “drag Gavan back here, will you?”
The innkeeper looked back over to her with wide eyes. “How? He’s literally on fire, I can’t get close.”
Faye quietly cursed and pushed herself to move quickly. There was so little time.
“Right,” she muttered, “I’ll drag him then. Run inside and grab a mug of something to drink, will you? I’m parched.”
The innkeeper looked down at her friend, watching with alarm as she reached for his arms despite the flicker of white flame.
“Uh… s-sure, yes. I can do that.” He turned and ran through the door to the traveller’s waystation. Faye tried her best to keep a handle on her breathing as she pulled Gavan along by his armpits. With the increase in strength she had enjoyed from the levels she had gained in recent weeks, there was still nothing to be done about the mental energy required to pull herself through the fog of mana drain that she had subjected herself to.
“Come on, you lump, wake up already.”
But the mage was still out cold. She laid him in the recovery position. She ensured that the arm she laid him on was extended to prevent him rolling too far and cushioned his head with his other hand. Then, bending his left knee at a right angle, made sure he was stable and would not move when she stood back up. Finally, she gently tilted his head back to clear his airways.
She smiled. There was something distinctly odd about putting a man burning with white flames in the recovery position, but as she pulled and pushed his limbs around, she could tell that the flames were doing what they could to reverse the damage he had taken.
Faye suspected that Gavan had overdrawn his mana to a higher degree than she had and that was contributing to his unconsciousness.
But she had no more time to speculate.
The [Ice Wall] had weakened enough that the leader of the men broke through it with a grunt. He stepped through the small crack, pushing it apart as he came with bulging arms.
His eyes were almost completely red, the glow an intense, blood red that spoke of rage and danger.
The leader did not speak. He stood still for two heartbeats, then came lumbering forward in a heavy run. He was only twenty paces away and would take no time to reach her.
Faye lifted her sword in one hand, hiding the effort it took her to do even that, and shouted.
“Do you want to feel what it’s like to touch the white flame?!”
The man barely registered her words. She was not sure he was capable of listening to her right now.
Fighting the urge to just curl up into a ball, Faye brought her sword back into a two-handed guard and slid forward into a solid stance. She realised with some trepidation that the man was focused on Gavan, because he did not flinch when she moved to stop him.
Wanting as much space between Gavan and this berserker as possible, Faye took two rapid steps forward and thrust. The tip of her blade missed because he ducked at the last second, but she expected that and was already moving through a diagonal cut. This was harder for him to duck aside from. But to her horror, he simply lifted his left arm to block the blade.
She cut into his flesh with ease, splashing blood everywhere.
He did not flinch.
She backpedalled, because he was still coming despite the blow that would have caused any sane person to immediately retreat. He swung with his undamaged arm, instead, and taking her final step back before she would trample Gavan’s prone form, she twisted and cut into the man’s other arm, as well.
This time, when her blade hit, there was something about his skin that rebuffed the blade, slightly, and though she expected to shear clean through she actually came to a stop only a centimetre or so in his arm. The red glow of his eyes dimmed, somewhat, and with a flash of hope, Faye knew what she needed to do.
Spinning aside, she left the way to Gavan open. As she expected, the berserk man did not follow her and instead moved closer to the prone mage.
Without her mana, Faye was left with only her sword. Normally, that would not be a problem. But against a foe like this, who was shrugging off blows and damage that no sane person could, she had no recourse. If he had been fixated on her, she would not have minded.
This was the sole scenario that she and Gavan were not set up for. They needed a guardian, like Ailith, to slow, stop, or soak up the attacks of brawlers like him.
But putting those thoughts aside, Faye attacked the man with all the speed and strength she could muster. First, she went for the backs of his legs. Her blade did not bite too deeply, but enough to draw blood. She tried a thrust to his back, but her sword tip did not penetrate far enough to do any lasting damage and she ended up simply flexing the blade against his body.
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Snarling, she pulled back and let out a series of whirling slashes that would never work in a combat situation where your opponent could fight back. She was leaving herself wide open to other attacks.
The bandit leader stooped, weathering Faye’s attacks without a care, and grabbed Gavan’s arm. Faye was not sure what he planned to do, but there was no way she wanted him to go through with whatever his fury-addled brain had come up with.
Lifting her sword in both hands, she brought it down with an almighty cry of pain on the top of his shoulder. She felt something give way, as her blade made contact, and instead of the shallow wounds she had been making so far, she actually cut clear through to the shoulder joint with the blow.
He let out a cry of rage and pain, the first real reaction to her since he had escaped the icy prison. He turned to regard her. His eyes had dimmed more, now, and though were still outlined in red, leaving weaving afterimages in the air as he moved, this time he was able to focus on her face.
“Gods damn you, who do you think you are?!”
She moved away a few steps, hoping that the target of his rage had truly shifted. Sure enough, he dropped Gavan’s arm and straightened as he faced her.
“Someone who’s more than a match for you and your men,” she replied, pulling her sword back into a guard once more. She had an urge to make a fancy flourish, to really settle into the tone and persona she was trying to evoke. But that kind of thing was stupid, especially around someone as powerful as this.
“I don’t think so,” he said. He glanced as his shoulder as best he could, the wide-open wound bleeding freely. “You’ll pay for this, bitch.”
Faye grimaced. “What a disgusting mouth.”
He roared in anger and came for her. Normally, that would not be much of a problem, but her head was hurting, and she was not sure she wanted to see what he would try when he reached her, so she turned and ran.
The sounds of pursuit did not fade, which was half terrifying and half a blessing. If he had his senses, he might have stayed and tried threatening Gavan’s unconscious form. She thanked God that his class seemed single-minded.
What on earth made him choose a class with such a massive drawback?
Faye darted into the darkened spaces of the empty stables. Without the majority of her mana, she was unable to activate [Mana Sense] without an intense stabbing pain in her right eye, so she slowed and carefully made her way into the dark building.
“You can’t hide from me!” the man shouted.
The meagre light from outside filtered through the open spaces of the stalls, but between them were massive pools of deep black shadows that Faye was able to crouch in. Despite his words, he did actually step past her in his rush to follow her. She waited a few heartbeats before sneaking back out into the night.
She ran as quietly as she could over to Gavan’s form and checked him. His head was resting on the floor after the idiot had grabbed her friend, but she saw he was still breathing and had not vomited so was about as safe as she could make him.
The door above them opened and the innkeeper stepped out. He rushed down the few steps and handed Faye a waterskin before taking up his crossbow in both hands, staring out at the yard.
“Where did he disappear to?” A smashing sound emanated from the stables. “Ah,” the innkeeper finished.
“Not too bright, that one,” Faye said, then with a rapid motion pulled open the waterskin with her teeth and guzzled the fresh, cool ale inside. She coughed, not expecting the alcohol.
“What?” the innkeeper said, when she gave him a look. “Did you expect freshly squeezed juice?”
“No,” she replied, “but probably water.”
“Bah,” the innkeeper said with a shake of the head, “water’s boring.”
“Boring but it actually hydrates you.”
“What?”
“Never mind.”
The bandit leader had emerged from the other side of the stables and was staring at them, the glow of his eyes clearly visible from this distance.
“How do we stop him?” the innkeeper asked.
“I—,” Faye started, but stopped when Gavan said something, too quietly to hear. She crouched down and placed her free hand on her friend’s arm. “Gavan? You okay?”
“Am I on fire, again?”
Faye smiled. “‘Fraid so, friend. I couldn’t resist.”
“You didn’t pass out?” he asked, in a pained whisper.
“Not this time, but believe me, I almost wish I had. Worst headache, ever.”
Gavan did not reply, but he grunted something. The leader of the bandits was stalking closer. Faye was surprised, but she assumed that he was getting a better handle on his skill. His left arm was still dangling down, useless, but the fist he was making with his other hand made it seem like he was still more than capable of tearing them apart without it.
“Looks like we’re still in trouble,” Gavan said, weakly.
“Sort of,” Faye replied, quietly. Then, louder, she said, “At this point, you know you cannot beat me. Give up now, and we will let you live.”
She stared at the leader as steadily as she could. The innkeeper, bless him, actually raised his crossbow, too, growling his affirmation of her words. But truthfully, Faye was on her last legs and she could feel the shaking weakness of her limbs even as she stood straight against him.
The man slowed and came to a stop a dozen paces distant.
“You fuckers haven’t come out this way in so long,” he said, “what in the name of the cursed bloody heavens made you decide to spoil our operation now?”
Faye shook her head. “Just luck that we stumbled across you,” she said, “but believe me when I say that there was always going to be a reckoning for you and your men. Just look at them. They tried and failed, all four, to stop us. You came here so arrogantly, you didn’t ever stop to think what would happen when we caught up with you. What on earth were you thinking?”
The man’s red eyes, unnervingly bright in the dark shadows of his face, narrowed. Then, ever so slightly, his head turned and looked at the still-burning corpse to his left, and the other defeated men that littered the inn’s yard.
Without another word, he turned and stalked out of the yard. When he got to the road, the leader of the bandits fell into a run and rapidly vanished from view in the darkness.
Faye looked to the innkeeper, then down at Gavan.
“Huh.”
----------------------------------------
Kassal had found himself slowing to barely a crawl a few minutes later, but he had put enough distance between him and the inn that he felt safe from those two Guild fuckers.
His energy was almost completely gone. The [Berserk Vitality] skill was powerful, but it played havoc with his body after he used it. It was even worse this time. He had gone further into the skill than he ever had before. He had never realised that it would make his mind go as blank as it had. He barely remembered what happened when he was no longer in control of himself… but judging by the fact his arm was hanging on by what felt like a thread, he did not think it went well.
“Fucking guilders,” he spat out, then he hocked a wad of phlegm on the ground. He felt worse than he had in a very long time.
And felt worse a second later, when he realised that he was not alone.
Spinning toward the shadowy figure in the darkness, he held up a hand.
“Don’t sneak up on me like that! Told you already, fuck.”
The figure did not move.
“You failed.”
Kassal froze. A drop of sweat inched down the back of his neck.
“You didn’t tell me they were as strong as that,” he retorted. “You said they were from the arse end of nowhere and would be weak. They killed all my men.”
“That was the only good thing to come from the meeting,” the figure said.
Kassal’s eyes widened. He backed away, pointing his finger at the shadow. “No! You gave me shit information; it isn’t my fault!”
The shadow blurred and darted forward. Before Kassal could say anything else, he dropped to the ground. His eyes were no longer glowing, but the red of his blood filled the sclera and created a horrific parody of his tell-tale skill.
The figure tutted and let out the smallest of sighs before casting its gaze toward the inn and the trouble that stayed there.