Master Yinhua wielded a mace with a five-foot handle skillfully.
He stepped past Zhai Jiang, bouncing on the balls of his feet as if eager for the contest. His mace moved like a piston. The Demonic creatures flinched back from his strike; a swampling died instantly. Another demonic, Yingmo, took a blow to the torso, staggered, and then shrieked in pain as the mace shattered its foot bone.
It wasn't glorious work, but Zhai Jiang grabbed the corpse of a trampled woman and hurled it into the darkness.
The gate shifted.
He got his hands under a dead swampling's skull and threw the body at its comrades.
The gate moved another hand's breadth.
"Master Yinhua!" he shrieked. His voice was hoarse and cracked. The old warrior bounded, cut, and suddenly retreated. Zhai Jiang stumbled after him.
