"Damn it. How did he dodge it from his blind spot? I thought we had the element of surprise." Someone complained while grumbling.
"Hah! Told ya. You lost the bet now. Give me my grand." The other one snickered.
"Damn it! Will do later. Let's get rid of this guy first."
Looking over my shoulder, I took in their forms. They were wearing long red and black trench coats with black masks hiding their faces. Their hoods were pulled over and the leather patchwork over their coats looked…hella cringe. And edgy.
"Didn't know that the new season of Assassin's Creed was being shot in Norway." I spoke without looking back.
I won't say I wasn't scared. These weren't just normal thugs. I could tell that not because of the foreign gun in the man's hand but rather the blistering Arcanum that felt unhealthy against my skin.
One of them let out a light laugh. "Now you know."
My breathing turned shaky. I could feel my heart pounding against my ribs.
My palms were clammy, and my fingers twitched with nervousness as Arcanum slowly started to slip out of me.
I was not really trained in efficient use of Arcanum. Hence using it for prolonged periods of time would do more harm than good. But what other choice did I have?
The air around me felt thick, almost suffocating, as the Arcanum's unnatural warmth started to leak out of the assassins? as well and started to seep through the alleyway.
I forced myself to take another deep breath, trying to calm the storm of conflicted emotions inside me.
Glancing around quickly, I counted the figures in the progressively dimming light. Two were directly behind me, their stances relaxed.
Their eyes were barely visible through the slits in their masks but I could see the glint of cold intent in them. I shifted my gaze to the alleyway ahead. Two more joined, and there were now four in front of me.
They were spread out, blocking any chance of escape.
Six in total. My odds were grim. Speaking in pure quantity, I have never taken on this many at once but…
The image of my little brother flashed into my mind, causing me to smile.
I had faced worse before. Much, much worse.
I couldn't let fear paralyse me. Not now. Not here. I had to act, and fast.
I clenched my fists, feeling the familiar surge of arcanum coursing through my veins. My muscles tensed, and the wind whispered slightly into my ear.
As I visualised my first move and was about to pivot and launch my attack, a sudden movement caught my eye.
Something ignited. Arcanum, I noticed. And then the spark of Arcanum morphed into something sharp- with a cutting edge. Like a blade.
I had merely blinked and the next moment a fist came hurtling towards my face, fast and precise.
Time seemed to slow down as I watched it close in, mere inches from my nose.
I barely had time to react.
Getting rid of the mumbo-jumbo thoughts, I immediately lowered and ducked, feeling the violent gust of air as the punch narrowly missed my head. I could almost feel the biting cold of the Arcanum-infused fist as it passed by, leaving a faint trail of crackling energy in its path.
Regaining my balance, I twisted my body to face him.
"Nice reflexes," he sneered, his voice dripping with condescension.
I didn't bother responding. Words were useless now. I had to rely on action. The other figure behind me shifted, preparing for an attack of his own. I was surrounded, but I couldn't afford to be overwhelmed.
I noted the person who had attacked me, segregating his little features from the rest.
He can use elemental Wind.
I took a mental note.
I lunged forward, aiming a punch at the one that had attacked me.
He moved in to block, but I anticipated his defence and pivoted on my heel, driving my elbow into his ribs. He grunted in pain, stumbling back a step. I didn't have time to relish the small victory.
"Captain said not to underestimate him as well." One of the assassins that were standing in the alleyway raised his voice. "He's an Olvasen, after all."
My tone turned sharp. "You know who I am. Do you not understand the ramifications of whatever you are doing?" I hissed, trying to intimidate them. Or stall them. Stall until I could find some suitable method to get out of here alive.
I am not like Arthur. I do not enjoy fights with people stronger than me.
And that is because I am neither confident nor strong enough to guarantee my survival even against a stronger opponent. At least not in a head-on fight.
"Who is going to do anything?" The one that had raised his voice, spoke again, full of ridicule. "Your daddy? Your little brother?" He scoffed, condescendingly. "They are dead. No one is coming to your rescue, boy."
I could feel losing my grip on my temper, but I shrugged it off. I was on a countdown. Losing my head was only going to hasten it.
Syphoning as much Arcanum as I could in a split second, I coated my fist with it and then punched the ground below. Cracks frenzied from the point of impact and then dust rose up.
Charging like a mad bull, I tackled the one who was talking to me a few seconds ago and crashed his body into the wall of the house that was on the right side of the opening of the alley.
He tried to get rid of the hold I had on his waist by plunging his elbow into my back, but I took a step back immediately.
But he was the first to recover.
Both of his hands clasped around my neck as I was suddenly pinned against the wall.
Desperation surged through me as I tried to grapple with the assassin, his breath hot and foul against my face. His icy cold grip tightened around my throat. I could feel my windpipe teetering close to the point of getting crushed as I saw the cold malice tinged with a sadistic pleasure in his eyes, barely visible beneath the edge of his mask.
My vision started to blur, dark spots dancing at the edges.
Desperation and wild instincts kicked in as I kicked his nut-sack and then hugged him, sinking my teeth into his ear.
The taste of sweat and blood filled my mouth as I bit down harder, the coppery tang causing bile to rise up.
He screamed, and flailed his arms about but I didn't let go. My teeth grounded against the cartilage, feeling it tear and give way under the pressure.
His blood gushed into my mouth, warm and sickening, as I ripped his ear free with one decisive yank.
He staggered back, clutching the side of his head, blood streaming through his fingers. The detached ear dropped from my mouth to the ground with a wet thud.
I spat the remaining mangled flesh out.
Arcanum started to concentrate and a small tornado started to whisk away the veil of dust that had concealed us. Finding this the right moment, I left the man behind and started to run away.
The alleyway was a narrow stretch of shadow between the high, empty houses of this part of Sandviken, dimly lit by the streetlights on the other side.
My heavy breaths fogged in the chill as I ran. Ran without looking back.
The wall to my right exploded outwards, throwing huge amounts of bricks in my direction.
Panic rushed and I immediately brought my arms upwards.
However, a green light signified something else.
Instead of bringing my arms upwards, I suddenly dropped down and hugged my knees, avoiding the barrage of blades of wind that shot towards me, concealed behind the incoming bricks.
No sooner had I dodged, someone landed by my side, his hand glowing with a pale blue light. Water coalesced around his fist, forming into a jagged shard of ice that he hurled at me.
I rolled to the side, the ice shard shattering against the collapsed mess of the brick wall and solid ground with a sharp crack.
Springing to my feet, I closed the distance between us, aiming a punch at his jaw. It connected and he staggered back, but his partner was already moving, conjuring a whirlwind that wrapped around my legs and lifted me off the ground.
Gritting my teeth, I fought against the pull of the wind by imbuing my body with Arcanum, struggling to stay grounded.
I lashed out with a kick, catching the wind mage in the chest. He grunted and stumbled but the damage I was dealing was like using a +1 katana against a comet azure spammer.
Fuck you, Eric. It's not the time to make game references!
Another mage stepped in, launching a torrent of water that struck me full in the chest, knocking me back into the opposite wall.
I hit the brick wall hard and was then sent flying through it, breaking the water pipes in the process. The cold water poured down at me leaving me gasping for breath as it soaked through my clothes.
The taste of blood filled my mouth, and I struggled to focus. I had barely moved when a kick caused me to gasp and I was yet again thrown through the walls and into another house. Thankfully, this was an empty one as well. But I knew it…I knew that I couldn't get this lucky over and over again.
There was no time to recover. One of them was already upon me, swirling wind circling his whole arm. He swung at me as I raised to my knees and barely blocked it. The force made the bones in my arms rattle and shred the fabric first and then rent the upper layer of my skin.
Arcanum slipped by itself, trying to protect me from the assault.
But I had him where I wanted.
While igniting elemental magic, there was a spark. Like fire needing the basic three conditions to initiate with a spark and then morph into a full-blown fire. It was the same for other elemental magic as well. Be it water, wind, earth or ice.
As I observed his other companions watching the fight in an amusing way from a distance, I focused on the one in front of me.
As his spark got snuffed out and was about to reinitiate, I retaliated with a barrage of punches, each one connecting with his ribs and face.
He reeled, but the others were closing in. I spun around, just in time to see another mage forming a sphere of water above his head. With a shout, he sent it hurtling towards me.
I ducked, the sphere smashing into the wall where my head had been moments before, water spraying everywhere.
Using it as a good moment, I jabbed with all my strength into the wind mage's throat. He threw up blood and spat all over my face, but such trivial things hardly mattered. As he fell to his knees, I broke through the window and started running again.
Panting, I glanced around. Two behind, two circling to cut me right ahead.
They were coordinating their attacks, trying to wear me down. I had an advantage in pure Arcanum amount, but crude Arcanum was in its weakest form. It was like throwing bullets via hand or a slingshot versus someone with an AK-47 or a M16.
I couldn't let them outdo me.
I had so much planned, damn it!
With a roar, I came to a sudden halt and then charged at the nearest one, tackling him into the wall and breaking it in the process. Screams erupted as this time we had broken into a house with a lot of people.
We rolled on the floor, grappling for control.
He tried to summon water, but I pinned his arms, driving my knee into his stomach. He coughed and gasped, but his comrades were already on me.
A booted foot connected with my side, and I cried out in pain, rolling off him and breaking through the wall across the house and then crashing out of the other rear end of the house.
I scrambled to my feet, but a blast of wind caught me, sending me sprawling. I hit the ground hard, again, and this time my vision blurred.
Pain coursed throughout my body, and I could feel the cold tendrils of fear tightening around my heart. Not just fear, but my lack of control over Arcanum was causing it to slip out unnecessarily, stripping away the comforting warmth of the magic fuel.
Not yet.
I forced myself to stand, swaying on my feet.
The mages surrounded me, their eyes glinting with cruel amusement. They thought they had me. Maybe they did after all.
"Do yourself a favour and die. Do you really want us to beat you to death like a dog?" The one in the lead spoke. There were only 3 of them now.
The one I had kicked in the ribs was still incapacitated.
"I am an Olvasen. Do you really think—"
"Bahaha." The man broke out in laughter. He laughed, for quite a long time. And when he stopped, he looked at me like I was some trash. "You are the worst of what the 'oh-so mighty' Olvasens have to offer. I don't even know what the deal with you is, haha."
Condescension. It was a weapon that only a few could wield masterfully. And while the words stung, they were certainly not enough to make me lower my guard.
A sudden jolt of pain invaded my head as something…resurfaced. Like a memory. Buried deep beneath layers of dirt. Dirt and…arcanum. An Arcane Art.
I couldn't tell. What was it?
It was like having a fever dream. I could feel someone…not short but not tall right beside me. Her words were soft, lovely…so, so sweet.
'Remember. A wolf's biggest strength isn't its fangs, or speed, or its power. No. It's the pack. Break it. Give its pack the mental and physical torment. And the wolf would eventually break…'
The words were cruel, but the tone was so sincere that it didn't feel bad.
Who was this? Who was talking? I have never heard such a voice. Nor this presence.
The splitting headache was accentuated further as a fist collided into my chin and I was lifted a few feet above the ground. As I landed a yard away from them, my senses circled, like I was trapped in a washing machine.
And then I was running towards them.
Break the pack.
That's what the voice said. I am not sure what this whole thing is, but it was right. Eerily right.
I lunged at the nearest assassin, feinting to the left before driving my fist into his gut. He doubled over, and I followed up with a knee to his face, sending him crashing to the ground. Another one lashed out with a blade of wind, slicing through the air where I had been a moment before. I dodged and countered with a kick to his knee, hearing a satisfying crack as he fell.
I noticed something. Their coordination was what made them dangerous. Individually, even someone like me was able to slowly whittle them down.
A torrent of water struck me from behind, knocking me to my knees.
I gasped for breath, feeling the cold seep into my bones.
Before I could recover, a whirlwind wrapped around me, lifting me off the ground and slamming me into the road.
The impact drove the air from my lungs, and I crumpled to the ground, barely able to move.
Even though I know what to do… I can't do anything in the end.
She…mom was right. I was pathetic. As a son, as a member of the Olvasen. As a boyfriend.
Through the haze of pain, I saw them closing in, their faces hidden but their intent clear.
They were going to finish this. I struggled to rise, but my body wouldn't obey. I could feel the darkness closing in, the edges of my vision going black.