He felt a shiver run down his back. As if he had had a bad feeling.
It was temporary, at most.
Yet something had made him suddenly move, not to stand still.
In that darkness, he had felt one's desire to kill. And it was this same feeling that had probably saved his life.
However, he was not quick enough to completely escape the blade that was coming at him, and let out a howl of pain.
The blade had entered his shoulder and continued down until it scraped the bone, tearing everything in its path.
Pulling out his dagger, Ewan stabbed it into his assailant's arm, causing him to recoil.
The bloody sword fell to the rocky floor of the cave with a loud clang of metal that echoed off the walls, and the young man immediately stepped aside. He then saw a dark figure moving in the darkness, the more opaque form standing out despite the lack of visibility.
He felt the warm blood running down his entire arm, and trying to clench his fingers, realized that the wound had completely incapacitated his left hand. Because of this surprise attack, he was already at a disadvantage compared to his opponent.
As for Finn, Ewan could still hear him fighting behind him. He could not expect any help from the military man, who was fighting against several individuals at the same time.
The young man's eyes fell on the sword lying on the ground.
He had no other weapon than his dagger because of the infiltration they had to carry out earlier, but judging by the movements of the individual who was still hiding in the shadows, he must have wanted to retrieve the weapon left on the ground. A weapon that Ewan also coveted.
He was losing more and more blood, and the first one to reach the sword would have the upper hand. It was a race against time.
Alert, the young hunter was still watching the figure that appeared and disappeared depending on the distance it kept with the light source Finn was still holding. Neither of them made the slightest move. Which could only mean one thing: they were both waiting for the other to move first, so they could suddenly attack the other.
Long, seemingly endless seconds passed, before Ewan decided to try his luck.
He waited for the figure to disappear again before straightening up and leaping towards the sword. Running as fast as he could, he saw from the corner of his left eye a black shape approaching him. The enemy was just as fast, and in better shape than him, and violently pushed Ewan to the ground, stabbing the dagger into the back of his thigh.
He had used the same weapon that Ewan had thrust into his arm, and taking advantage of his momentarily incapacitated prey, rushed at the sword to seize it. The young man barely had time to get up when he rolled to the left to dodge the sword brandished at him.
His weight pressing on his wounded shoulder, he could not repress a new hoarse cry of pain.
However, even though his vision was beginning to blur, he mentally thanked the pain that kept him awake and alert. At the moment, he felt an amazing clarity of mind that increased his reflexes tenfold. Perhaps the fear of dying had taken hold of him and pushed him to survive by any means necessary.
Recovering the dagger stuck in his body, he crouched with difficulty, and saw the blade of the sword advancing straight towards him, like a spear. He dodged by diving to the side again, his chest hitting the rocky ground with force. With his breath momentarily taken away, he struggled to move immediately, and raised the dagger above his head just in time to block the sword that had descended like a guillotine toward him. Only his right arm could hold the weapon at bay, his left arm remaining motionless, and he felt his muscles burning with the effort he had to produce to counter the enemy.
Nevertheless, he could not dodge the violent kick that hit him in the torso and made him fall heavily backwards. And already, the tip of the sword was again directed towards him, ready to sink into his chest.
Did he have time to roll to one side or the other? Or would the blade reach his sides? Could he deflect the attack with his dagger?
He squinted and saw two swords instead of one. The red trails that covered his arm were already cold, while the blood from the wound was still flowing, creating new layers of red on top of each other. He felt the cold, unpleasant sweat trickle down in big drops between his skull and his hair.
He blinked, and at the same time, he heard a scream.
"KID! CATCH!" Finn shouted.
Ewan reopened his eyes just in time to see a sword fly towards his opponent and sink into his left side. The suspect had just had time to deflect it with his weapon, greatly reducing the wound the military man had tried to inflict on him, and remaining standing despite the pain.
However, Ewan was not going to let this chance pass.
Getting up with a vengeance, he grabbed the sword sent from the other end of the cave by its handle and immediately pulled it out.
Blood flew into the air as the pressure of the blade disappeared and the enemy staggered backwards. And in the same movement, the blade spun around to aim at the still cloaked head of his opponent. With a clatter of metal, the sword came into contact with the smooth, opaque surface of the black mask, and slightly cracked its surface.
Stunned, the Circle member jumped back, and froze. He didn't move, as if the damage to his mask had confused and distressed him for a moment.
The young hunter was not seeing double for now, and took advantage of this unexpected opportunity to strike a precise blow on his opponent's arm. Nevertheless, the latter came back to his senses and parried the threat with disconcerting speed; the two men both forcing to push and push back the one who was facing them. The two swords, pressed against each other, emitted an unpleasant and shrill metallic creak, hence only the expertise of their respective blacksmiths could make the difference in this long-lasting face-off.
Gritting his teeth, Ewan looked up at the mask slightly cracked on the right side, and saw that a blue eye was staring at him through the fissure.
He could see the large azure pupil staring at him intensely, returning his gaze with equal fervor.
Unsettled, Ewan did not know exactly what he felt at that precise moment.
He had the strange impression that he should never have crossed the glance of this one, and even less to meet him.
Yet both men were paralyzed, stuck in the same stupor.
Something had happened. But what?
"Lord Androanni!" Cried one of the Circle's henchmen.
The blue eye lost its surprised glint and turned dull and sullen.
Showing a startling and unexpected strength, the Circle's man pushed Ewan back violently and started to run towards his accomplices. The small group then slipped through one of the adjacent galleries, while the distinct footsteps of men in armor approached from the other direction.
The doorway through which Ewan and Finn had arrived was then invaded by a group of armed soldiers, led by none other than Carciem.
Finn pushed aside and knocked down the individual who had been holding him back so far, and headed for his superior.
"We found one of the Circle's top brass, but they just ran off that way!" He reported quickly, pointing to the second gallery.
Ewan, dazed, dropped to the ground, watching as Carciem quickly signaled his men to immediately begin chasing the fugitives, except for a few of them who stayed behind to arrest the enemies Finn had subdued.
He wondered how Carciem had managed to be so fast, and hoped that the other soldiers would manage to catch up with the suspects. However, it was clear that they would have a hard time arresting this person. This... Androanni.
"Are you going to be okay, Ewan?" Carciem asked him with a smile, holding out a hand to help him up.
Ewan's left arm was very cold, but he couldn't stay still either, otherwise he might lose consciousness, and become more of a dead weight than someone useful. Grabbing Carciem's right hand with his, he painfully stood up and nodded.
"Let's go! After them!" Carciem then shouted, while going to follow the steps of his subordinates who began to rush into the gallery.
Taking care to recover the sword he had dropped on the ground, Ewan started to jog after Carciem.
However, it is at this moment, in all this noise and fury, that he heard a whistle.
A characteristic whistle, which came from one of the pockets of his jacket.
Stopping momentarily from running after Carciem and his men, Ewan searched his pocket, and found the object that was continuously emitting the noise: a spiral-shaped shell. It was an exact copy of the one he had given to Pavas. Could it be that...?!
With haste, he turned the shell in all directions, and noticed that behind him, the whistling was louder.
Immediately, he rushed without thinking in that direction, following with attention the noise increasing in intensity.
"Ewan? Where are you going?!" Carciem exclaimed, turning around.
But his friend was already not listening to him, and had stormed off in the other direction, following a trail that only he could follow.
The shell he had given to Pavas earlier was not just a shell. It was also an enchanted object, one that could contact anyone at a distance. It didn't matter if you were separated by a continent or an ocean.
Even though the object in question was not capable of holding a conversation, it emitted a whistling sound that only its owner could hear, and which allowed the wearer of the second shell to be located thanks to the continuous sound produced.
It was like a distress signal crossing distances and materials, directly into your hand.
And Pavas, who had just used it, was obviously nearby.
Which left him with only one thing to do: rescue her.