Davon panted heavily, sweat dripping from his brow as he leaned forward, his hands resting on the massive shield set on the ground in front of him.

“Don’t tell me that wore you out.” Evander’s voice came from a few feet away. Davon looked over to his colleague, also panting, though he still stood tall, his pole arm in hand.

“Don’t even joke,” he said, taking a deep breath and standing straight up, “that was just an intense warm up.”

“Even so,” Evander looked out at the main road they had been holding, “this was a lot more than I was expecting.”

Before them lay hundreds of corpses, most of which had already dissolved away to mere bones and teeth. Though the two warriors bore a few scratches themselves, not a single Afflicted had made it past them to the town’s front gate.

“Well,” Evander spun his weapon around, bringing it to a rest on his shoulder, “shall we go check on the kiddies?”

Behind them, a sudden large burst of flames lit up the night sky, causing them both to turn. The fire plume was brief, but it illuminated the entire sky, drawing all eyes to it.

“Yes, I think that would be best.” Davon replied grimly.

~

Draco swung his sword wildly, the flames eating up the darkness around him as the Terror shrieked in defiance, its clawed limbs swatting at the flames, trying to wash away their source. Draco roared as he leapt forward, his sword held high for an overhead strike. He swung down as the creature sidestepped, leaving the young man to strike nothing but air. With an ear splitting screech the monster swung its massive clawed limb into Draco’s chest, seeing him flying back through the air. He hit the ground and bounced as he rolled several meters before coming to a stop.

“Draco!” Saphira called, rushing over to him as Abraham charged in and engaged the Terror. She knelt down beside her comrade as he pushed himself back up. The chest plate he was wearing had been shredded by the beast’s claw, the attack gouging deep enough to draw some blood from Draco’s chest.

“I’m alright,” he panted, grabbing the breastplate’s strap on his shoulder and undoing it before tossing the damaged armour to the side.

“No you’re not,” Saphira insisted. “You’re attacking too recklessly! I know you’re upset, but if you don't calm down, you’re just going to get yourself killed!”

“Shut up!” He shouted, whipping his sword over his shoulder, the ground around him flashing with fire.

“WYVERN RUSH!” He shouted, bursting from the spot he had been crouched on and rushing towards the monster. Abraham saw Draco’s charge and leapt out of the way with a yelp. Draco reached the Terror and swung as the beast brought its massive right arm up. Sword met flesh with a thunderous impact, but the blade did not cut through. The Terror’s free arm swung in at Draco’s face, but was intercepted by Abraham’s shield. The old man had leapt back into the fray, his back turned to the monster to block the attack with his left hand as his right hand grabbed Draco by the back of his shirt. Abraham threw the young warrior back away from the monster before kicking off of it himself, landing beside Draco and picking his axe up from the ground where he had left it.

“Tell me boy,” he said as he turned back to face the monster, “is that your best move?”

“More like my only move,” Draco said, slowly getting to his feet as Saphira ran up beside them.

“It’s not a bad start,” the old man said, “but you need to sharpen it.”

“What?” Draco asked in surprise, looking to the old man. “I can’t exactly take a wet stone to an Art!”

“Not that kind of sharpen, you fool!” Abraham spat, “Arts are born of your mind and body! To sharpen the Art, your mind must create a more powerful image for your body to follow. That Art of yours is all about speed, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Then think of what speed means to you! You have the base idea already, just improve on it!”

Draco turned his eyes down to the ground as he thought. Things that moved fast? Deer and wolves were fast by running on all four legs. Fish were fast in the water by swimming. But what else was fast? He recalled the arrow that had narrowly missed him earlier that day. It flew. Birds flew. Things that flew were the fastest things that he could think of! And they all had one thing in common…

He closed his eyes and held his sword out front. Flames began to swirl up from the ground around him, whipping his clothes and hair as he kept his eyes closed, breathing slow and deep.

Abraham smiled as Saphira looked on in awe.

“Okay boy, that monster’s right arm needs to go,” the old man said, turning his attention back to the beast, “I already put a good cut into it, but we need a lot of power to finish getting through it. Can you do it?”

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

“Just give me a clear shot.” Draco replied, eyes still closed.

Abraham chuckled.

“Alright then boy, let’s see it.” The old mercenary’s mouth spread wide into a wild grin. “Teddy! Bearserker!”

At the old man’s words his weapons and armour began to glow and reshape, the loose fur armour spreading and covering his body in a heavy leather armour, his shield and axe turning into identical twin short axes with serrated hand guards and blades.

“To Astrea!” Abraham roared as he charged in, swinging his axes around as he and Saphira closed in. The Terror roared in response and met their charge, swinging into them with its right arm. The two leapt away from one another; Saphira to the right and Abraham to the left. The old man roared and swung his left axe at the cut on the creature’s right arm, the serrated blade digging into the flesh and tearing away at it. Abraham spun, ripping the blade down and out of the wound and bringing his right axe around and down into the wound, repeating the tearing process. He spun around and around, striking the wound several more times before the monster pulled its claw from the ground. It swung its claw into the old man, who blocked the attack with both axes, though the force pushed him back. From behind, Saphira thrust her blade into the back of the Terror’s shoulders and elbows. She then set her feet apart and poised her blade.

“Relentless Tempo!” She cried before rapidly driving her blade in and out of the four joints she had pierced earlier, her thrusts a blur as blood began to rain down from the monster’s arms. It cried out in pain and turned, swinging at Saphira with its claw. The young lady leapt up over the attack and thrust her blade into the monster’s left eye. The black orb popped with a gush of blood and it howled, grabbing its face with its left hand as it swung its right in a back handed strike, catching Saphira as she came back down to the ground. She brought her blade up in time to block the majority of the impact, but she was still sent tumbling backwards. Coming to a stop in a crouching position, she winced as her left arm refused to move. Her moment of pain gave the Terror its opening, and it charged her; both of its arms overhead as it approached. It reached her and swung down with both arms, intent on turning the girl into a smear on the ground.

The sound of scraping steel rang through the air as once again Abraham threw himself in between the monster and the girl, both of his axes biting into the Terror’s wrists as the old man strained under the weight of the monster’s strength. With a growing roar of defiance, Abraham pressed the arms out to the sides, creating a deadlock with the monster.

“Now what, ya bastard?” He growled, grinning at the Terror. The monster replied by rearing back its head and opening its jaws, revealing a set of jagged fangs. It lunged its head forward and bit down in a spurt of blood.

“ABRAHAM!” Saphira screamed as she saw the scarlet rain, though her eyes caught up with reality soon after and she saw that the old man had shifted his upper body so that the teeth had sunk into his right shoulder rather than his head.

Gritting his teeth in pain yet still smiling, Abraham looked sidelong at the Terror.

“You want my arm?” He asked, seeing that the fangs had bit clean through the muscles and bone. “Fine! I’ll just take yours!”

With a twist and a jump, Abraham tore himself free of his trapped limb and wrapped himself around the Terror’s right arm, pulling it straight out to the side. Gripping the claw with the entirety of his left arm, the old man let out a cry.

“NOW BOY!”

The words shot out through the air and into Draco’s mind. His eyes snapped open and his stance immediately changed; his left foot shot forward as his right knee bent. He pulled the sword back and up, its blade now horizontal in the air, its tip pointed toward the Terror. The flames swirling around him vanished, and in the next instant reappeared as a pair of blazing red leathery, bat-like wings on his back.

“Wyvern-“ he said, the wings spreading out wide at his word. “RUSH!”

The wings flapped to the sides in a single, thunderous motion. Draco launched forward like a comet, flames surrounding his entire body as he flew, his blade now trailing behind him. It took less than a second to cover the hundred or so feet to the Terror, yet everything seemed to be moving a little slower to Draco. He saw the wound on the beast’s arm, and gripped his sword tightly. At the end of his approach he spun around a full 360 degrees, shouldering the sword in the motion and, at the end of the spin, brought the sword down on the target area. The blade struck true and sliced clean through. Draco wanted to yell out in victory and celebrate his new ability, but was unable to as his momentum continued to carry him through the air. He flew past Saphira, Abraham and the Terror, coming to a stop by crashing through the outer wall of the house directly ahead, landing in a heap among the wreckage of what had once been the kitchen, pots and pans clattering down and around him as he came to an abrupt stop.

The severed arm fell to the ground, landing on top of Abraham and pinning the elderly man under it as his new wound gushed blood. Saphira rose to her feet and slashed at the monster’s left arm with her blade, aiming to cut it. Instead her blade was knocked from her hand as the Terror’s left arm had suddenly sprouted a large, axe-like blade from its knuckles. It shrieked and swung the appendage around, aiming the blade at her throat. Saphira’s vision went dark, but not because of her death, but due to a heavy shield appearing between her face and the blade as a new body appeared in front of her, an arm wrapping around her shoulders and pulling her in close.

Davon had just made it in time to save his student, pulling the girl close as his shield blocked the blow meant to end her life.

“NOW!” He shouted.

Two sets of footsteps pounded along the roof tiles of the nearby house and two figures leapt into the air. Jethro swung his axe down with a resounding battle cry, its edge biting deep into the Terror’s left bicep. Roan came down beside him, swinging his hammer down onto the back of Jehtro’s axe head, the two weapons connecting with a thunderous clang. The secondary force on the axe sent its blade snapping through the monster’s arm, severing it and causing it to drop to a knee as it lost its balance.

The Terror turned away from the humans, panting as it slowly rose back its feet. It made a few weary steps away from the people who had caused it such harm before a body crashed down on top of it, slamming it face down into the ground, a double bladed glaive piercing through its body and pinning it to the dirt as its owner crouched down on its back.

Evander kept his gaze down as he gripped his weapon tightly. Gritting his teeth, he gave the weapon a little twist and uttered his Art.

“Slicing Cyclone.”

A raging updraft of razor sharp wind erupted from the glaive’s blades, tearing into the Terror’s body from above and within, ripping it apart in seconds. The wind died down a few moments later, and all that remained of the creature was a bloodstain around the tip of where the blade had pinned it to the ground.

“Evander… sir?” Jethro asked as he took a cautious step towards his commander. Without a word Evander stood up, his head hanging low as a few tears dripped from his eyes. Jethro’s gaze drifted down and his eyes went wide as he saw what his commander had clenched in his left hand; two blood stained Aegis Tags.