The girl's sword, sharp as fury itself, whistled through the air, barely missing Baron's blade, swirling in a flurry of graceful arcs. The sword flowers spun, each one a lethal movement designed to break through Baron's defense. She was relentless, bypassing his guard with an unstoppable momentum, her blade aimed squarely at his head.
Baron staggered back, his instincts screaming at him to retreat. Desperately, he raised his left arm, just managing to block the strike with his arm armor. The force of the blow sent a shudder through him, the blade grazing his face and leaving behind a thin, burning line of blood.
For a fleeting moment, Baron's mind wandered, cursing himself for the foolish decision to remove his helmet and neck guard earlier to enjoy a mere leg of lamb. Now, he stood vulnerable, his bare face a target for every deadly thrust.
But there was no time for regrets. The girl, her expression cold and focused, pressed her advantage. She gave him no respite, her sword flashing in a blur of motion. It was like facing a storm of steel. Each strike was as precise as a serpent's bite, the tip of her blade always angling towards his exposed face; the only part unprotected by his armor.
Baron struggled to keep up. His every movement was now defensive, his sword raised only to shield his face. The height difference between them, usually his advantage, now turned against him in this close-quarters fight. She was quick, agile, and ruthless. He couldn't create space between them, couldn't find a moment to breathe.
As the clash intensified, the clanging of their swords echoed in rapid succession, like a feverish rhythm of iron against iron. Olivia, her eyes never leaving his, advanced relentlessly, her strikes leaving no opening for Baron to counter.
Amidst the frenzy, Leon and Brandon drew their swords, moving in a pincer formation towards Baron. They weren't stopping for anything. From the edges of the room, the servants and knights, realizing the chaos erupting before them, scrambled to action. They fumbled for their weapons, rushing back into the hall with confusion and panic. For a heartbeat, many of the servants mistook Leon and Brandon, clad as mercenaries, for allies.
But not everyone was fooled. Two knights, sharper and more discerning, caught on quickly. They shouted above the din, their voices urgent and commanding. "The mercenaries! They're enemies! Kill them!"
Luke, one of the knights, found himself trapped at the door, blocked by the flood of panicked servants. His fury was palpable as he tried to push his way through, shouting warnings to those who had already rushed in.
Leon and Brandon, meanwhile, split apart, one flanking Baron on the left, the other on the right. They didn't go for his torso or arms, but for his legs. Their swords darted low, aiming for the gaps at the base of Baron's leg armor. Even with the protection of chain mail, a well-placed blow could shatter bone or leave him crippled.
Baron, glancing at the two mercenaries who had suddenly turned on him, cursed under his breath. He twisted his body desperately, bending his knees to dodge their strikes. The sound of their blades scraping against his armor sent sparks flying, filling the air with a teeth-gritting screech.
The brief distraction was all Olivia needed. In that instant, she seized the opportunity. Her sword danced in a deceptive arc, feinting just enough to trick Baron into a misstep. He was overwhelmed, caught between defending against multiple directions. As he swung in a hasty counterattack, Olivia moved with grace, arching her back to avoid his clumsy blow while transitioning her stance fluidly.
Then, with a swift and deadly movement, she unleashed a powerful slash, her blade cutting through the air with a terrifying howl. The strike connected, hard.
A loud crack resounded as Baron's defense crumbled, and Olivia's sword found its mark. The blade bit into his neck with a sickening slice, the skin parting to reveal a bright red line of blood. She had struck true, and if she hadn't pulled back her strength in the last moment, her sword would have cleaved straight through.
The battle was won, the final stroke delivered with both precision and restraint. Olivia's eyes remained cold, even as Baron crumpled under the weight of his defeat. She had fought with the precision of a master and the fury of a storm, and now, the fight was over.
Death brushed past Baron in a chilling instant. He dropped to one knee, his entire body tense with the cold realization of how close he had come to being struck down. His breath was shallow, his skin prickling as if winter itself had seeped into his bones. In that moment, he knew; had his attackers intended to kill him, there would have been no time to play his final card.
Baron's mind raced, a wave of bitter gratitude washing over him. They wanted him alive, a hostage, not a corpse. If they had aimed to take his head, there would have been no time for second thoughts.
Leon and Brandon seized their chance. With swift, practiced movements, their swords pressed against his throat, one from the back, the other from the side. The cold metal kissed his skin, leaving no room for defiance.
"Back off!" Brandon barked in Uriah, his voice booming toward the approaching servants and knights. His words echoed off the stone walls, halting the incoming tide of would-be rescuers.
The effect was immediate. The servants, weapons raised, froze in place, eyes wide as they saw their lord trapped, three blades threatening his life. The sheer terror in their faces told the story: they had failed their master. Even if they survived, they knew they'd face execution for this disgrace.
Two knights, their halberds held high, pushed through the crowd, eyes locking onto the scene. They hesitated, unsure whether to advance or retreat, their lord caught in the deadly grip of these mercenaries.
Leon moved swiftly, gripping his sword with one hand while prying the noble's right hand open with the other. The knight's blade clattered to the floor, disarmed, leaving Baron defenseless.
"Get out!" Brandon's voice cut through the tension once more. "Fetch three warhorses and bring them to the door. Then, get out of our sight, or I swear I'll slit his throat!"
The room fell into a tense silence. Then, from behind his captors' mask, Baron chuckled. "Your Uriah is impressive. Who was your teacher?" he asked, his tone almost mocking.
Brandon's eyes narrowed at the words, the anger simmering behind them unmistakable. "Shut up, you Kantadar bastard!" he snarled. The question brought a fresh wave of bitterness, a sharp reminder of his father, who had died on the day the city fell.
Baron smirked, sensing an opportunity. "What's your plan now?" he asked, his mind already working. "Take me hostage and ride off into the night? You know as well as I do that you won't let me go once you escape."
With no blade pressing deeper into his neck, Baron found his voice again, thinking fast. "Instead of all of us dying here, let's compare hostages, shall we? If you don't release me, my men will start slaughtering villagers. One every minute. And maybe..." He paused for effect, switching to the language of Feru, his gaze locking onto Olivia, "...we'll start with the girl's father?"
The room grew colder. Olivia's face twitched slightly at the mention of her father. Though she knew Liam was likely rescuing him, the threat to the other villagers hung in the air like a blade over her neck.
"You can try," Leon interrupted, his tone sharp and dripping with contempt.
Baron blinked, taken aback by the sudden challenge. Leon had understood the Feru language and wasn't about to let the threat stand.
"Do what you want with the villagers," Leon sneered, lowering his blade slightly as he spoke. "My companions and I aren't from here. Kill them all if you like; it makes no difference to me."
His words were cold, calculated. Leon's eyes gleamed with the fire of vengeance. "You think I care about hostages?" he asked, his voice steady. "You're a Kantadar beast, the kind that tore my family apart. I've been waiting for the day I could carve one of you up."
Baron's smirk faltered as Leon continued, his tone almost conversational. "Tell you what, let's make it interesting. We'll see what's worth more; your hostages or the meat on your body. If you don't have your men stand down within a quarter of an hour, I'll start cutting pieces off you, bit by bit." Leon leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper. "How about we start with your dick?"
The silence that followed was deafening. Baron's brow furrowed, his confidence wavering. Leon's tone wasn't bluster; it was cold and indifferent, and in those eyes, Baron saw the truth. These weren't men who could be swayed by the lives of villagers. They were here for something more personal, something more vicious.
Baron realized then that the usual threats wouldn't work. His opponent didn't care about the stakes he'd laid down. And now, time was slipping away, the balance of power shifting as the cold metal against his throat reminded him just how fragile his position had become.
As Baron's attempt to stall failed miserably, his gaze flickered toward the blonde girl. His mind raced, trying to read her reaction. Her eyes were sharp, filled with shock and anger, no doubt from the threats he had made against her villagers, but to his surprise, she didn't speak up to challenge Leon's words.
That's not good, Baron thought grimly. These mercenaries weren't just hired hands; they were with her. His grip on the situation was slipping fast. The realization struck hard, if they were together, then the blacksmith, the old man he thought he still had control over in the village, was likely no longer a hostage. His leverage was vanishing before his eyes.
Olivia, standing nearby, struggled to keep her emotions in check. The threat to the surviving villagers weighed heavily on her mind, but she forced herself to focus. The guilt gnawed at her, knowing that innocent people's lives were at stake. But as much as she wanted to protect them, she couldn't let Leon and the others risk everything for people who had nothing to do with their mission. Her heart was torn, but her resolve hardened.
The tension in the room crackled like a live wire. The knights and servants near the door hesitated, unsure of what to do, their eyes flicking nervously between their captured lord and the invaders. The standoff lingered, with neither side willing to make the first move.
Brandon, sensing the moment slipping, raised his blade to Baron's ear, his voice cutting through the silence like steel on stone. "Order them now, or lose this!" he shouted, the threat unmistakable as he pressed the edge of the sword dangerously close to the noble's ear.
Baron winced at the sharp pain, feeling the cold metal biting into his skin. He could tell Brandon wasn't bluffing. In a battle, he could handle wounds, but losing parts of his body in a hostage situation? That was a line he wasn't ready to cross.
"Alright, alright, you win!" he barked, his voice tight with frustration. The idea of compromising made his skin crawl, but survival took priority. He shouted to his men, "Listen to them! Luke, go fetch three horses, and all of you, back off! Move away!"
The knights and servants exchanged uncertain glances, their resolve cracking under the weight of their lord's command. Reluctantly, they obeyed, stepping back and retreating out of the house, their weapons lowered but their eyes still wary.
Leon, sensing the shift in power, seized the moment. "Olivia, get behind him and keep your sword on him," he ordered firmly. His voice was steady, a calculated calm that cut through the tension. "If he tries anything, don't hesitate; take action."
Olivia nodded, moving swiftly into position. The threat of Baron's earlier words still echoed in her mind, but now wasn't the time for second thoughts. Leon then turned to Brandon. "Strip him of his armor, and tie his hands."
Brandon gave a sharp nod of agreement. Without hesitation, he and Leon moved in, their hands working efficiently to unbuckle the thick layers of armor that had once made Baron nearly untouchable. Without it, the noble would be vulnerable, just a man, not a walking fortress of steel. Olivia's skill with a blade had been their saving grace, but now, disarming him completely would ensure he posed no further threat.
Baron grunted as they stripped him of his breastplate, then the chainmail, and finally the padded lining beneath. He stood there, half-naked, with only a thin layer of clothing covering his torso. His eyes closed as he felt the tip of Leon's sword press lightly against the back of his neck. He made no move to resist. His mind was a storm of thoughts, but he kept silent, resigned for now to whatever would come next.
Brandon picked up the ropes that had earlier bound Olivia and wasted no time tying Baron's hands tightly behind his back. The knots were secure; there would be no escape for the noble now.
With everything in place, the room fell into a tense, silent wait. Both sides held their breath, the air thick with anticipation.
Moments later, the clatter of hooves announced the arrival of the knights outside. As promised, three warhorses stood at the ready, led to the door by the reluctant knights.
"Move!" Leon commanded, gripping the knight's sword in his left hand and using it to force Baron to his feet by pressing it against his chin. They marched forward; Leon leading from the front, Brandon flanking him, and Olivia keeping a watchful eye from behind.
Their weapons stayed poised, each blade pressed against Baron's most vulnerable spots, his neck, his chest, his waist, ensuring he wouldn't dare make a sudden move. The group moved slowly toward the door, stepping carefully into the open air.
Outside, the knights and servants had retreated a safe distance, their eyes burning with frustration but unable to defy their lord's command. The horses stood waiting, their breath visible in the cool morning air.
Leon lowered his sword slightly and stepped toward one of the horses, motioning to lift Baron onto the saddle. His muscles tensed, ready to react if the noble made even the slightest twitch of rebellion. The escape plan was in motion, and everything was falling into place; so far.
No one paid attention to Baron's chest, but beneath the fabric of his shirt, something sinister stirred; a beetle-like creature, small and glistening, crawled toward his heart, its movements stealthy and deliberate.
Baron felt it, though. His heart gave a subtle twitch, as if in silent acknowledgment of the dark magic he was about to unleash.
I will remember this loss, he vowed inwardly, the seething hatred coursing through him. Beneath his collar, a necklace began to shift, the pendant swaying gently with each pulse of his chest. The time had come.
Surrounded by his own men and cornered on the village road, his captors thought they had the upper hand. But they hadn't noticed the subtle, deadly change occurring beneath his skin.
The pendant came to life, and tiny spikes embedded in it suddenly pierced his skin. The pain was instant and sharp, but Baron welcomed it. His blood surged, boiling with raw power as his heart pumped faster. His eyes shot open wide, pupils dilating, and a feral snarl twisted his face. In moments, his skin flushed a deep, angry red, veins bulging across his body like ropes about to snap.
Bang!
The ropes binding his arms exploded in a violent burst, scattering fibers into the air like broken threads of fate. His hands, now free, moved with unnatural speed; faster than any human could react.
Brandon barely saw the punch coming. The next moment, a fist, charged with inhuman strength, smashed into his chest. The sound of impact echoed like a hammer against an anvil. Brandon's breastplate crumpled as if it were made of paper, the force launching him off his feet. He flew backward like a ragdoll, arms flailing, before crashing hard into the ground.
Olivia's eyes widened in shock, her body acting on pure instinct. She thrust her sword forward, aiming for Baron's throat, desperate to end this sudden nightmare. The blade hit its mark, but it was like trying to stab through thick hide. Her arms trembled as she pushed with all her might, barely managing to drive the tip of the sword through his skin.
There was no time for a second strike. With impossible speed, Baron twisted his head to the side, his neck moving with a speed that made him seem more beast than man. His fist, now glowing with heat, shot toward Olivia's face like a red comet.
Reacting in a heartbeat, Olivia pulled back, switching her stance. She knew she couldn't meet that terrifying strength head-on. Using her sword to block would only get her pinned or worse. She crossed the blade over her body, trying to shield herself from the blow.
CRACK!
The force of the punch collided with the sword, sending vibrations through the steel. The expertly forged blade bent into an exaggerated arc, its once straight edge twisted by the sheer power of the hit. Olivia's small frame couldn't withstand the blow. She was thrown into the air, her body spinning with the force before slamming back down into the dirt.
Leon, who had been reaching for the reins of a horse just moments before, heard the chaos erupt behind him; the sound of steel buckling and bodies being tossed. His heart skipped a beat, instincts kicking in before his mind could catch up.
He dived to the side just as a massive force hurtled past him, missing him by inches. His honed survival instincts had saved him once again. The blow that had been meant for him, however, did not miss its next target.
WHAM!
The warhorse in front of Leon took the brunt of the attack. The creature let out a gut-wrenching scream as it was struck by what felt like a battering ram. The huge animal lifted off the ground for a split second before crashing down with a thunderous thud, writhing and wailing in agony.
Leon scrambled to his feet, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His heart pounded in his ears as he rushed toward Olivia, who had managed to land and steady herself, though barely. They exchanged a brief glance; one filled with shared confusion and growing dread, as they turned to look at the spot where they had once stood.
Baron stood there, his chest heaving, his skin still flushed an angry red, veins pulsing with a dark, unnatural energy. He no longer looked like the man they had captured moments ago. Now, he was something far more terrifying, something imbued with an unholy power that none of them had expected.
The fight had taken a dangerous turn, and Leon, Olivia, and Brandon were now facing something beyond human.
I saw Baron not far away, his face twisted into something monstrous, like a demon set loose from the underworld. His features contorted in rage and power, a terrifying sight that sent a chill down my spine.
He retracted his fist, and a wave of unbearable heat radiated off him, distorting the air around him. With a snarl, Baron tore off his shirt, shredding the fabric to reveal his bare, muscular chest, now a deep, furious red. His skin pulsed with unnatural heat, veins bulging like ropes beneath the surface. At the center of it all, a strange insect-shaped gem glowed on his chest. It clung to his heart, its limbs wrapped tightly around it, as if feeding off his very life force. The veins spread out from the gem like a dark web, crawling across his body.
"Luke!" Baron's voice was a guttural roar, filled with an otherworldly power. He thrust out his left hand, fingers splayed wide, calling out to the knights rushing toward him in the distance.
Without hesitation, one of his most loyal knights, a seasoned warrior with a halberd in hand, responded. The knight didn't flinch at the grotesque transformation of his lord. He spun the halberd expertly and, with a mighty throw, sent it hurtling toward Baron.
With ease, Baron caught the whistling weapon, his fingers wrapping around it as though it weighed nothing. He spun it once to absorb the momentum, the heavy handle striking the ground with a solid thud, raising a cloud of dust at his feet.
"I gave you a chance," Baron growled, his voice hoarse, like gravel scraping against steel. He hefted the halberd in both hands, holding it horizontally as he began to walk toward Olivia. His eyes were locked on her, filled with a deadly intent that sent a tremor through the air. "But since you've chosen to fight… I'll give you a real fight."
Olivia frowned, her heart racing as she watched him approach. There was something entirely unnatural about him now, something dark and twisted that she didn't understand. She had learned swordsmanship from her father, honed her skills through practice and experience, but this; this was beyond anything she had ever faced.
The blade in her hand, once bent at a sharp angle from Baron's blow, was now useless. She cast it aside, and Leon quickly stepped forward, handing her the Kantadar noble sword he had taken earlier. She grasped it, feeling the familiar weight of a well-balanced blade in her hand, and took a deep breath to calm her nerves. Her mind focused, and she fell back into her fighting stance.
Leon glanced at Brandon, who lay crumpled on the ground from Baron's earlier punch. His friend wasn't moving, and Leon's heart twisted in worry. He couldn't check on him now, though. There wasn't time. His eyes flicked back to Baron, whose transformation seemed like something out of a nightmare. Leon had faced dangerous enemies before, but this felt different. Darker. More unnatural.
Magic? Some cursed artifact?
His eyes lingered on the glowing red gem on Baron's chest, and realization dawned. It must be that thing, he thought grimly.
He turned and positioned himself behind Olivia, his sword raised as he prepared for the knights and servants closing in on them. He settled into the middle stance of his ancient fighting style, the hilt steady in his grip, ready to defend.
"Olivia," he said, giving a final warning, "if you get the chance, aim for that glowing thing on his chest."
Standing back to back with Leon, Olivia nodded, her gaze fixed on Baron as he advanced. The tension crackled between them like a storm about to break. But despite the danger, despite the overwhelming odds, a strange calm settled over her.
"I will defeat him," she whispered, more to herself than anyone else. But then, louder, she added, "I will! I'll make sure you get out of this alive!"
Leon couldn't help but smile at her determination, even in the face of such danger. "I believe you," he said, chuckling softly. "You're the Golden Lion of Selva, after all."
Her lips tightened into a firm line, and her grip on the sword tightened as well. Together, back to back, they stood ready; one facing the twisted force of Baron, the other prepared for the enemies circling in. It was a desperate situation, but as long as they stood together, there was still hope.