"Haa... Haa"
A lone man was swiftly weaving around branches with thin, sharp thorns protruding from them on all sides.
Occasionally, one of these thorns would nick him, causing more blood to pour down his limbs.
Yet, as if it never occurred, it seemingly regenerated from thin air, a faint yellow aura shrouding his body.
Wariness assaulted his eyes as if the earth was lying on his eyelids. Still, with grit and determination, he continued running.
Behind him, hundreds, THOUSANDS, of men were fighting, confronting death itself with no hesitation or fear.
Blood was splattered, and it tainted the earth's soil.
This man continued sprinting through the forest, fleeing from a group of men, all given the same task- kill the man and a baby.
What baby, you ask? The same baby he was carrying while he was running.
"Isora, initiate combat weaponry." The man spoke to his friend which practically resides within him.
Instantly, tiny motes of golden light scattered on each limb, and metallic, but weightless armor shot from his body, an extravagant piece of armor covering his shoulders and torso. It didn't hinder his speed. Instead, it enhanced it.
"Lance, are you sure?" A delicate voice asked, filled with concern.
The man didn't answer; instead, he went deeper into thought, and a look of worry enveloped his face.
'Isora, deploy Brance's Will.'
From the palm of his hand, a long, slim sword materialized, small golden letters sketched along the hilt, and wings fluttered from the sides of it.
"Isora, I, Lance Leonard, command you, take lawful control of-" Before he could finish his command, Isora came out of his head.
"I really can't describe that feeling." Lance chuckled, taking one last look at his friend.
It would be odd to call a small ball with wings a friend, but that ball has been with Lance for more than 80% of his life.
It helped him become strong and independent and even saved his life on one too many occasions.
"Lance, you won't survive. We both know that." Isora plainly said.
"You're correct. But at least I can save another life... My son."
He gripped the sword's hilt tighter as he reached the end of the forest, coming into a giant green patch of land a few miles from the battle.
"Latch onto him, carry him to a village far from here. You know the rest."
"Understood, Lance. Farewell, brother."
Isora's form then started changing. He quickly morphed into a claw-like object and clamped onto the baby's shirt, taking a secure hold of it.
"Cya."
Isora then flew into the sky, taking the baby along with it.
Lance halted, regaining his composure and breath as he slowly turned around to meet his aggressors.
In unison, 7 heavily armed men and women stepped out of the trees, raising their swords, axes, or spears in a defensive position as they carefully approached the dangerous man.
"Oh c'mon, there's 7 of 'ya! Surely... you're not scared of this old man?"
Lance cheekily taunted the attackers, casually waving the elegant sword in front of him.
A man with a freshly trimmed beard flickered forward, raising his gigantic, crimson-toned axe above his head, maliciously dropping it on Lance's head.
Lance stepped forward, spinning on his left foot, swinging his sword without hesitation at the man's torso.
The sword slashed through the man's waist, causing blood to pour out of his now-exposed insides.
However, his body turned into smoke and dispersed into the night air. Still, 7 men stood.
"Testing out your clones? Stop being a pussy and fight me." He mocked the man and, this time rushed at him with his real body.
His axe glowed dim red as it was hurled at Lance.
With simplicity, he smacked the dangerous axe with the side of his sword, causing it to go far off its trajectory.
The axe flew through the air, then, as if it had its own consciousness, it came flying back from the same path it had taken but still missed Lance.
"Don't get too close, boy," Lance warned him, leisurely raising his sword.
With two quick steps, Adler, the man with the axe, reached Lance.
He swung his axe at Lance's waist with might, leaving a trail of crimson in its wake.
'I see... Demon aura.' Lance said to himself.
Although Adler is vulnerable to attacks, Lance didn't take the opportunity. He was aware of a Demon's fighting style's fast and bait-like style, which would easily out-speed a full-force attack.
And his choice was correct.
Instantly, a powerful kick was aimed at Lance's head, creating a loud sonic boom at its climax.
Lance weaved the kick with superior experience and speed, crouching under it.
In a cruel and gruesome manner, Lance took hold of Adler's leg, punching downwards on his knee with no remorse.
Bone shot through Adler's knee from behind, blood spewing out of his wound.
Lance's brutal attack wasn't finished yet.
He raised Adler's injured leg, causing his core to be unbalanced and more pain to erupt.
Adler fell head-first onto the ground, letting out a grunt on impact, grimacing in pain.
Landing on top of him, Lance let out an onslaught of blows on Adler's face and throat, crushing his windpipe and killing him within seconds as more merciless blows landed.
To put it simply, Lance made Adler's brain mush.
The ringleader of their group, Malo, sighed as his friend and member died.
Malo looked to his subordinates sternly, and his lips moved. Instantly, the group rushed at Lance- intending to kill him.
Lance discarded his sword, instead using his hands.
"Ah... This reminds me of the academy days, doesn't it, Malo."
Malo didn't respond, returning a hateful look in response.
A woman with short auburn hair approached Lance, preparing to thrust her sword at Lance's torso.
Lance crossed his hands in an X formation, remembering his master's teachings as he prepared to make a move requiring lots of skill.
'Wait... NOW!' As the sword entered the gap between his hands, he swiped them outwards, completely shattering the blade in half and disabling the attack.
His hands were already in the perfect position to shoot them forward, grabbing ahold of the defenseless woman's skull.
Brutally, he squeezed as tightly as he could, crushing the woman's skull and paralyzing her without remorse.
Before he could finish, a man on his right swung his sword.
Lance lowered his grip to her neck, lifting her body into the air to act as a shield from the oncoming blow.
The sword easily sliced through the woman's back, grave enough to kill her instantly.
Blood poured from the wound, leaking onto the floor.
Yet, as it hit the grass it burnt it, dissipating in a hissing vapor instantly, ridding it of any life it touched.
"You demon hags," Lance chuckled. "Bearers of chaos, may you spare an old senile man such as myself? Recently, my wife gave birth. You can get the gist of it."
In such a situation Lance could not help but be witty and joyful, it was second nature to him.
Although he laughed, the others frowned.
The same swordsman who sliced the woman Lance paralyzed, lunged forward, pivoting on his left foot and delivering a kick aimed at Lance's thigh.
He lifted his leg up, blocking the blow with his shin.
Despite it absorbing most of its power, Lance still slid back a few feet with his leg throbbing.
'If only I was able to sleep a bit more, this would've been easier.'
Death did not phase Lance. He was in the face of it too many times to be scared now.
If he was to die today, he was sure to eternally cripple the remaining 6 men, or bring them down with him.
'Putting soul power into a spell hurts like a hell... That'll suck.' He nonchalantly thought, parrying another blow that was far too sluggish to be capable of injuring him.
"Let's just finish this Malo."
Lance juked around the remaining men, bolting straight to Malo.
The yellow mist that enveloped his body grew several shades lighter, eventually evolving into a pure white that illuminated the area around him.
As he dashed, a long blur of white was left in his wake, traversing at an unfathomable speed to normal humans.
Malo rose his spear, exhaling a long breath as he assumed his stance.
The orb of white reached Malo. He stabbed his spear forward at the white blur, which Lance clashed with.
"DNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGG!"
A loud clash between metal resounded through the area, reaching miles away from where the two forces clashed.
Lance's hands grew into a sheening silver, holding the spear Malo owned.
How ironic would it be if the weapon you reaped lives with daily claimed your life?
Malo staggered backward, sliding his body off his spear.
The spear was doused in its owner's blood who grossly squirmed and twitched.
As soon as the spear left his body, he toppled to the floor and a pool of blood piled around him.
A drop of blood exited his mouth.
Any words he tried to speak only emitted a wheeze.
"I guess killing you is good enough."
Lance turned around, meeting eyes with the remaining men.
Fear tingled their spines as an insurmountable beast opposed them.
"You're lucky." He spoke.
The men stood in shock. The man who just killed their leader plopped onto the floor, his immense aura fading into the air until his body was rid of it.
'I wasn't even able to kill the rest of them... God damnit.'
'LANCE!' Isora, the little wisp that flew in him and his lifelong friend connected their links one more time.
'This is it. This motherfucker actually killed me.'
Although he couldn't see or hear it, he felt the sadness Isora felt. 'I found a suitable family. Do you have any last wishes?'
The man was responseless, looking at the ground as his own blood formed a pool beneath him, the gaping wound below his stomach releasing blood at an irreversible rate.
'Restrict his mana core, the little freak will probably grow too strong for his body and bottleneck himself like I did. Maybe then he could take down the demon army which I failed to.'
When Lance was young, his core far surpassed his body's limits and exploded within himself, crippling him for years and stagnating his talent and any other further progression.
'Understood.'
'...'
'Goodbye, my friend. Lance Stokovor.'
'Goodbye, Isora. Treat him well. Name him Salvador if you can... It has a ring to it.'
'Will do.'
The link he felt in his mind vanished and his vision grew blurry.
'My life was anything but peaceful. Aha.'