Chapter 157: A Message From The Battle Field!
Three Level 5 agents charged at Ecdy in unison, their sheer bulk and brute force aiming to overwhelm him early. Ecdy reacted swiftly, leaping back just in time to avoid being hemmed in.
His instincts took over as he drove the tip of his spear into the iced ground, steadying himself and preventing a fatal slip on the slick surface created by the Level 3 agent. The cold bit into his hands through the metal, but he didn't flinch. He couldn't afford to.
At the edge of the fray, the Level 3 agent watched with detached amusement, like a Mafia boss surveying his underlings. He gnawed lazily on a piece of dried meat, the faint smirk on his face a constant reminder of his superiority. Around him, chaos reigned.
Nearly thirty Level 5 and 6 agents, along
with five Level 4 enforcers, swarmed Ecdy and Nymff, their sole objective to subdue and capture.
Nymff moved like a ghost in the storm, her spear an extension of her will. She danced between the attackers with deadly precision, each strike perfectly timed and deliberate. Batons swung at her from every direction, but she evaded them effortlessly, her movements a blend of agility and grace.
When forced to block, she parried with such fluidity that it seemed less like defense and more like part of her offensive choreography. The agents were relentless, but they fought under strict orders: no guns.
Rhemon wanted Ecdy and Nymff alive. The plan was clear-capture them and subject them to the synchronization program. The synchronization program was a horrifying process. Designed to imbue mortals with supernatural abilities, it had a staggering mortality rate. For every thousand test subjects, only two or three would survive the grueling process.
Those who succeeded became living weapons, their newfound powers bound by restrictions that Rhemon implanted in their minds, reducing them to his puppets. The unlucky majority who failed? Their bodies were broken, their lives snuffed out in agonizing failure.
Ecdy knew all this. He understood what capture meant,- it meant death or worse a living corpse. The thought only fueled his resolve. He dodged a swipe from a Level 5 agent and retaliated with a lightning-fast thrust, his spear finding its mark in the agent's shoulder.
The man grunted, staggering back, but another took his place immediately.
"Keep moving!" Ecdy barked, his voice cutting through the chaos. "We can't let them pin us down!" Nymff responded with a sharp nod, her
spear spinning in her hands as she deflected another attack. "I wasn't planning to!" she shot back, her voice carrying a defiant edge.
As the battle raged on, the air grew thick with the sounds of clashing steel and shouted orders. Ecdy's grip on his weapon tightened as he struck down another wave of agents, but his arms felt like lead. His hands, slick with sweat, were beginning to go numb. Each swing became heavier than the last, and he knew he couldn't keep this pace forever. Escape was a tantalizing option, a simple solution to his current predicament. Yet, the faces of Ms. Caldwell and Mr. Thompson flashed through his mind.
They weren't warriors. They didn't have the enhanced reflexes or combat prowess of the Big 7. If they were captured, their fates would be sealed. The thought made his stomach churn. Could he live with himself if he abandoned them now?
Ecdy gritted his teeth, his mind a whirlwind of indecision. The longer they fought, the slimmer their chances of survival. If the agents weren't stopped soon, it wouldn't be long before sheer exhaustion would claim them. The odds were stacked against them; attrition was a battle they couldn't afford to fight.
Nymff, standing a few paces away, noticed the turmoil etched on Ecdy's face. She could read him like an open book—every doubt, every fear, every fleeting thought of escape. It was a far cry from the reckless, brash fighter she had known. Leadership had changed him, sharpened his sense of responsibility.
She admired him for it, but admiration wouldn't save them. "Ecdy," she called out, her voice cutting through the chaos like a knife. "We're at a crossroads. We can't hold out much longer."
Ecdy turned to her, his eyes shadowed with the weight of the decision before them. "If we leave them behind," he said, his voice hoarse, "they'll never make it out alive."
Nymff nodded solemnly. "But if we stay, we might all go down together."
The gravity of her words struck Ecdy like a physical blow. They had faced countless battles, but this one felt insurmountable. The agents were relentless, their numbers seemingly infinite. Every second they delayed brought more reinforcements, tightening the noose around them.
"What do we do?" Ecdy's voice was low, almost a whisper. It wasn't a question of strategy, but of principle. Could they justify their survival if it meant leaving others behind?
Nymff's gaze steadied, her shoulders squared despite the weight of the moment. "We make our stand. But we need a plan—something to buy the others time to escape."
Ecdy's mind churned through possibilities. Each scenario ended in a grim conclusion. Just as despair threatened to take hold, a sudden thought ignited like a spark in the darkness. His eyes widened. "Chinelle—the Guardian Owl!" he blurted out.
Nymff's lips curved into a grim smile, though her eyes betrayed a flicker of surprise. "Now that's the Ecdy I know," she said, her voice laced with a mix of pride and disbelief. How did he think of that before me? she wondered, shaken by his sudden clarity.
Ecdy wasted no time, his hands already moving to summon the bird. Chinelle was no ordinary owl. Bound to Tessa, it served as a living bridge between their world and Riverdale Academy. Normally, Tessa used it to send and receive messages to and from the school grounds, but even now, with her in another country, the owl's unique bond with her ensured it could find her no matter the distance.
This connection was their lifeline. If Ecdy and Nymff could successfully deliver their message, Tessa would have the chance to rally reinforcements or devise a daring rescue. It was a slim hope, but in the face of overwhelming odds, it was all they had.
The soft rustle of wings broke through the tense silence. The owl emerged, its luminous eyes reflecting the flickering light around them.
It perched on a frozen tree stump, its gaze locked into Ecdy. Even in the heat of battle, Ecdy could sense its presence. An intangible connection, pulling his gaze towards the mysterious bird, amidst the battle.
Ecdy was able to sense its gaze as he struck down to defend an incoming baton attack before driving his spear into the throat of an advancing assailant, pulling it out quickly and then impaling two more in the chest to create a space around him, then he turned without hesitation, putting forth an outstretched arm, towards the owl after making some room for himself.
The Owl, as if answering an unspoken call, dove down with effortless grace, its wings cutting through the air in a fluid arc, it landed gently on Ecdy's outstretched hand, its talon gripping his arm firmly but without harm. The creature's eyes remain fixed on him, awaiting for its command.
"Tell Tessa we're surrounded," Ecdy said, his voice urgent but steady. "We need her. And hurry."
Chinelle let out a low hoot, then disappeared into the night, its powerful wings cutting through the air with purpose.
Now all they had to do was hold their ground long enough for help to arrive.
Nymff clenched her fists, her resolve as unyielding as steel. "It's just us until then."
Ecdy nodded, his fear giving way to a fierce determination. "Let's make every second count."
With renewed purpose, they turned to face the advancing horde. Shadows moved in the periphery, and the air grew thick with the sound of heavy boots and shouted commands. The agents were closing in.
Nymff raised her spear, its edge gleaming like a beacon in the dim light. "For the ones who can't fight."
Ecdy mirrored her stance, his own weapon at the ready. "And for those who still believe in us."
They stood side by side, a fragile barrier against an overwhelming force. The odds were stacked against them, but this was more than a battle for survival—it was a stand for hope.