**RAYAN'S POV**
I've gotten soft and complacent. Instead of slitting that man's throat right then and there, I just reassured him that we weren't going to cause them any problems and that we would leave once the fair was done. It was stupid now that I think about it
Also, Princess has never been to a fair. I don't know, I guess I just wanted her to experience it, even if we didn't stay long, and because of that, we are knee-deep in shit. The fair got ruined, and the bystanders ran to the cover of their houses. Another member of the dark order stood there, blocking the gate, the night sky making them as ominous as shadows in the night.
If even three of them attack me together, then I'm sure they'd manage to kill me, but they don't travel as a group. The only logical explanation is that they are trying to figure out how skilled I am. If I manage to slay the knight in front of me, then it would prove the previous two I killed weren't sheer luck.
The mercenaries accompanying him all charged at me, although the one with the injured torso avoided the front line; he still charged at me. I tightened my grip on my scimitars until my knuckles became pale. A party of six men was charging at me. As long as they didn't flank me, I could win. These small fries were not the problem; they were sheep, their shepherd was the problem.
"Princess, the moment I slice off the head of one of these bastards, you make a run for it," I said, "every town, village, and castle always has a back door so find it and run."
"But what about..."
"Princess, shut the fuck up and listen," I said.
Just four steps, and the three men would reach me. I didn't wait for them; I ran at them. As the man prepared to slice off my head, I dropped down and slid with my knees; the sword missed my face by inches. I used my momentum to slice off the foot of the man in front by my side. My scimitar went right through his knees, leaving a stump as his foot flew off; blood spilled from the stump like a broken barrel of water as he fell down, screaming in pain. This made the man behind him pause, and I intended to use that moment of weakness.
I quickly got up from the ground as I placed both of my scimitars at the neck of the man, like a pair of scissors. I pressed them together as I felt the steel penetrate the muscles and arteries in his neck; blood seeped out slowly since my blade was still blocking the wound. In front of me, three more men were approaching me cautiously, and the man behind me now struck with doubt.
I pulled my scimitars back, severing the man's head from his neck. I hit his head with the hilt of my scimitars, separating the head from the neck; blood sprayed from his neck to my face. I never really understood why blood does that, especially from the neck.
By instinct, I bent down and lunged my bloody scimitars back through my armpits. I heard the sound of the blade penetrating his gut. The man's sword fell and landed in front of me. I pulled the scimitars back, and the body fell on me; I could feel his blood soak my shirt. I stood up straight, making the body fall off.
I turned, and to my relief, Princess wasn't around. Finally, she listens to me. I couldn't help but smile, but that brief relief was ruined with the gallops of a horse that was approaching at a fast pace. I quickly turned, only to see an armored palm in front of me. In a second, my face was grabbed by the dark purple gauntlet, and I was being dragged along.
I could hear the sound of my feet shuffling through the dirt. I was going to stab the horse, but the rider noticed and he abruptly stopped and tossed me forward. With the speed I was being dragged with and the strength he put into throwing me, my fall had a lot of momentum. I crashed into one of the stalls; my back meeting the small wooden wall made of planks. I crashed through it and I landed inside the stall.
The strength in my body was momentarily lost as I tasted a metallic taste in my mouth. I pushed off some of the planks that were on top of me, sat up, and shook my head in a stupid attempt to shake off the pain.
"Find the girl, the bastard is mine!" the dark order knight said.
The men who were circling the stall stopped and glared at the knight; they must be itching to avenge their fallen comrades. But unless either one of them had the skills to refuse, all they could do was glare. They begrudgingly ran to where Princess had disappeared. I got on my feet and ran at them, like hell; I wouldn't let them touch her. Even the thought of them harming a single hair on her head made me enraged.
I threw the scimitar in my left hand like a spear; it lodged itself in the mercenary who I had already injured. He was slower compared to the remaining two. The scimitar went through his head as if it were a melon; he dropped on his knees with his head down. Suddenly, I felt a large force sending me flying to the ground; I toppled to the ground as my left shoulder burned with pain. I was rolling on the dirt-filled ground, and I stabbed the hard ground with my remaining scimitar to stabilize myself. As soon as I managed to get on one knee, the knight charged at me again with the horse. The impact it made on me sent me flying back again, except this time, I crashed into the door of someone's home. The door broke like glass, and some of the broken pieces of wood scratched and lodged themselves in some parts of my neck. The family inside was terrified at the sight in front of them. A grown man had just crashed into their house, his mouth dripping blood, and his hand carrying a scimitar; he was lying right in the middle of their room.
"Is that it? That's all you're worth!" the man yelled from outside. I was on the ground, and my head had this distinct ringing sound.
"Did Fenrir and Rodnir fall due to luck?" he mocked from outside. I heard his foot hit the ground as he got off from his horse.
He unsheathed the huge sword from his back, and he slowly walked in the direction of the house. He dragged the sword on the ground as he approached me; I didn't get up, but I could hear the sword drag along the dirt until the sound changed to it being dragged through wood. I could only assume that he had already entered the house.
I heard the clanking of his armor as the footsteps got louder and louder until he was standing right next to me. His eyes were filled with a mixture of anger, disgust, and disappointment. He stabbed the sword to the ground just inches from my ear and crouched down. I could now see more of his features; his face had three slash marks, one on his forehead, chin, and nose. He had really long black hair and deep black, soulless eyes.
"Still on the ground, huh? Disappointing," he said.
"True, but it was the only way to get you off your horse," I said. His eyes widened as he reached for his sword. I placed my free hand on the floor and vaulted myself into a handstand position as I twisted my hip. My foot found the side of his head, and it sent him down to the ground. Unfortunately, his hand had already grabbed the hilt of his sword. The family inside whimpered out of fear.
Now with both of us on our feet, I charged at him with my scimitar. In terms of agility, a scimitar outmatches a sword, but in terms of strength, the sword outmatches the scimitar. If this ends up being a fight of attrition, then I'd be the one to lose. The clanging of blades rung through the night air; I could feel blood pumping to my arms as sweat beads rolled off my brow. The man had a smile as we fought; we kept parrying and dodging each other's attacks. But a strange look appeared on the man's face as he thought of something; he quickly back stepped as he reached for something from the back of his waist.
He pulled out a six-inch dagger and threw it, but it wasn't aimed at me; he was aiming for the civilians behind me. I quickly reached for the blade, and by luck, I managed to grab it. But with my back turned, the man seized the opportunity, and I felt the cold steel slice through my back. A strange sensation of heat followed; I dropped down on my knees in pain as my shirt got soaked in more blood except this time it was my own.
"Hmm, so much potential if only you weren't so weak," he said. "Trying to protect people you don't know—how foolish."
He walked in front of me and grabbed me by my hair; he crouched down, making eye contact.
"It was fun while it lasted," he said and he was preparing to stab my gut. I swung my scimitar at him, and he blocked it. In that moment, I aimed for his neck with the dagger.
The knife went through, and the only sound that came out of his mouth was the sound of his throat choking on his own blood; the grip on his hands loosened as his sword dropped from his hand and my hair. He dropped on his knees and died with his face downward. I struggled to stand up. The family inside was traumatized by the amount of bloodshed they had witnessed.
"Next time, kill, then gloat about it," I said as I walked out of the house to where my second scimitar was planted in the man's head. I pulled it out and stumbled as I followed where the men left.
I could slowly feel my eyes becoming heavy, and the strength of my body slowly fading away; my breathing had become ragged as I approached the forest which Princess had disappeared into. I still can't believe what I did, but for the first time in a really long time, I prayed. I prayed that Elena was still safe and nothing had happened to her.
"Elena!" I yelled as loud as I could.