The battle seemed to stretch into an endless haze, each moment searing through Avi's body like fire. His limbs ached, his breath came in ragged gasps, but there was no chance to rest. Not now. Not when everything they had fought for was on the line.
Amid the chaos, he heard himself shouting, "Caleeeeb!" His voice was strained, barely rising above the cacophony of screams and clashing weapons, but he knew it reached the others. "We could really use some help with those catapults you mentioned earlier!"
Through a blur of motion, Avi caught sight of the catapults firing in the distance. Massive rocks sailed through the air, slamming into the Demonoid with bone-jarring force, shaking the ground and sending clouds of dust into the air. For a heartbeat, there was silence. Then, the dust settled, revealing the creature, unfazed, walking forward as though nothing had happened. The dented armor glistened in the dim light, a cruel testament to the beast's resilience.
"So much for masterpieces by our oh-so-important production class," Tyler muttered, his voice thick with irritation.
Avi's eyes narrowed as he surveyed the beast. "It's not enough," he muttered, the words laced with frustration. But even now, as battered and bruised as they were, he saw it. The cracks in the Demonoid's armor, small but unmistakable. A flicker of hope sparked inside him.
"This time, we need everyone who can still move," he barked, the edge in his voice sharpened by exhaustion. "This thing's bigger and stronger than the last one. We can't take it down with just a couple of us."
It wasn't just a command—it was a plea. The fighters were spent; traps had been used up, support players were barely holding on. But they had no choice. They needed to fight. They had to.
Ken stood beside him, his shield raised, sweat streaming down his face as he stared at the monster. "We've come this far. We can't back down now," he said, determination hardening his features.
Avi gritted his teeth, the muscles in his jaw clenching. "We won't."
The Demonoid was a force of nature, swinging its massive axe with relentless fury. Avi dove under its first strike, narrowly missing the crushing blow, the air around him thick with the coppery scent of blood and sweat. Pain radiated from his body as he rolled to his feet, but he didn't pause. He couldn't.
Ken charged forward, his shield deflecting a blow that would have sent Avi flying. The force of it reverberated through the air, and Ken staggered, but his expression remained steadfast. The strain was there, in the trembling of his arms, the raggedness of his breathing. It was only a matter of time before exhaustion claimed him, and they all knew it.
Avi surged forward, daggers in hand, aiming for the armor's weak points. But the Demonoid moved faster than its size suggested, and Avi was forced to leap aside as its axe swiped past him, the edge slicing his shoulder. Pain lanced through him, sharp and searing, but he ignored it. He couldn't stop now.
Ryan joined the fray, fists pounding against the Demonoid's side, only to be knocked back like a ragdoll by a backhanded swipe. He grunted, pushed himself up, and kept going. That was Ryan—he never stayed down.
Ken's voice cut through the noise. "Avi, hit its back! The armor's weaker there!"
Avi nodded, swallowing down the nausea that clawed at his throat. His breath was ragged, his body leaden, but he pushed forward. This was it. They either stopped it now or they wouldn't have a tomorrow.
He rolled beneath the Demonoid's legs, coming up behind it. "Here goes nothing," he muttered, feeling the weight of his fatigue settle deeper into his bones.
With every ounce of strength he had left, he slashed at the cracks he had seen before. The blade bit into the armor, and the Demonoid roared in pain, swinging its arm down in an attempt to crush him. The force of the blow sent shockwaves through the ground, disorienting him. Blood trickled from his nose and mouth, but he forced himself to stay upright. There was no room for weakness now.
The battle raged on, chaos consuming the clearing like a storm. Ken's movements had become sluggish, each step a struggle as the weight of his shield pressed down on him, relentless and unyielding. The air reeked of blood and sweat, the metallic tang of battle mingling with the acrid stench of earth churned up by combat. The thundering blows of the Demonoid's axe reverberated through the forest, drowned only by the frantic shouts of fighters who knew that their time was dwindling.
Ken's legs wobbled, and he stumbled—a brief lapse, just enough to seal his fate. The axe came down, its blade gleaming with death's promise, and with a desperate act of heroism, Ken shoved an unconscious fighter aside, sacrificing his own safety. The axe struck his shield, the force sending him sprawling backward, breath knocked from his chest in a guttural gasp.
"Ken!" Ryan's voice splintered through the cacophony, eyes wide with terror as he surged forward, a protective instinct at odds with reason. But Ryan miscalculated; his foot caught a root, and the moment his body shifted, it was too late. The axe swept forward, its edge catching him and sending him tumbling, consciousness wavering like a fragile flame.
Tyler's shout pierced the air, raw and filled with desperation. "Stupid!" But the battle was relentless. The Demonoid's axe, an arc of malice, rose once more, shadowed by death's inevitability. Tyler stood frozen, eyes wide and unblinking, his weapon heavy in his grasp but his strength stolen by fear. The axe's shadow stretched toward him, a sickening promise.
Avi's heart thundered, time grinding to a pulse-stopping halt. His instincts roared, urging him forward even as the weight of his fatigue threatened to pull him down. He had no time to question it. Without a second thought, he launched himself, feet digging into the dirt as he propelled forward, the ground biting into his skin with unforgiving sharpness. The pain barely registered as his body stretched out, a desperate blur of motion.
The air stilled, and his eyes locked onto the descending axe. The world seemed to tilt, slow, and then snap back as Avi's arms drove upward, Shadowfang daggers gleaming as they emerged from their sheath. With a swift, decisive slash, the blades met the Demonoid's arm, a visceral scream erupting from the creature as blood splattered the ground in a hot arc. The axe jolted sideways, its deadly edge scraping the dirt mere inches from Tyler's trembling form.
Tyler's eyes widened in disbelief, the color draining from his face as he staggered back, feet tangling in a mess of roots and dirt. "Idiot!" he roared, the word cut short as he gasped in terror.
But Avi had no breath left to offer an answer. His muscles burned, raw and overstretched, every nerve ending aflame as the shock of pain bloomed through his body. His vision fractured, a mist of dark smoke seeping into his sight, and he felt his legs betray him, buckling beneath the agony. The world spun, every sound a distant echo as he lunged forward, colliding into Tyler and sending him flying like a doll tossed by a careless hand.
Avi's body collapsed, darkness claiming him in the wake of the crash. The metallic taste of blood coated his mouth, sharp and bitter, mingling with the wild pulse of pain. The Demonoid's axe swung again, catching him square in its path with a sickening, bone-deep crack that reverberated up through his spine.
The impact sent him sprawling, consciousness slipping like sand through a sieve. He struggled, the room of his mind spinning, fragmented whispers of the battle around him and the taste of despair so real he could almost touch it.
"Tyler!" he rasped, voice weak, fighting to hold onto lucidity. His vision flickered, a single plea pushing through the fog. "Stay down! Don't make me come to get you again!"
Three of the school alliance's strongest were already out of commission, and Avi hated to admit it, but the remaining fighters wouldn't be much help. The odds had turned grim, the weight of desperation pressing down on him as he scanned the chaos around him. The Demonoid's savage roars echoed through the clearing, mingled with the shouts of his teammates and the sharp, metallic clangs of steel against steel.
With a gruff exhale, Avi surged forward, fingers tightening around the Shadowfang daggers. The blades, familiar and lethal, felt like an extension of himself, lighter than air and sharper than death. His muscles protested, raw and burning with fatigue, but his instincts ignored the agony, driving him into the heart of battle. The world blurred, a mix of colors and shapes, but his body moved on autopilot, a testament to the unyielding instincts buried deep within him.
The Demonoid loomed ahead, its hulking form shadowed by the dark canopy above. Its jagged armor was streaked with blood, eyes filled with fury as it brought its massive axe down in a sweeping arc. Avi barely had time to react, twisting sideways and darting in beneath the beast's guard. The shadowy steel of his daggers sliced into the Demonoid's forearm, a line of crimson blooming as it roared in pain. The strike sent a jolt of pain up his arms, but Avi gritted his teeth and pressed on, targeting every exposed muscle and sinew.
He moved like a specter, slipping between the Demonoid's strikes and carving his way around its defenses. Each movement was a calculated dance of defiance, fueled by desperation and rage. The creature's axe swung again, a blur of steel, but Avi ducked low, his daggers glinting as they swept across its thick, scarred hide. A wet hiss met his ears as the blades cut deep, the Demonoid's body shuddering with the blow.
The monster lurched, bellowing, and tried to swing again, its axe a deadly blur. But Avi was already closing the distance, ducking and weaving like a phantom in the gloom. He felt the force of exhaustion gnawing at his limbs, every muscle straining as though it would snap. The pain in his side roared, a searing, electric pulse that threatened to sap the last of his strength. Still, he pushed forward, the shadowy daggers flashing as they found a weak point near the creature's flank.
The Demonoid's howl of pain resonated deep in Avi's chest, but he barely had time to feel the rush of triumph. The beast's movements slowed, its monstrous eyes flickering with a hint of recognition that it was dying. The air was thick with the stench of blood and sweat, the fight hanging by a thread.
Avi's chest heaved, the muscles burning with each ragged breath. His legs felt like lead, heavy and unresponsive, but the sight of the Demonoid staggering gave him one last push. With a final, desperate burst of speed, he dove forward, spinning as he drove the Shadowfang daggers up into the creature's neck. The blades sank deep, cutting through sinew and bone as the Demonoid's roar turned to a guttural, strangled gurgle. Dark blood gushed from its wound, pooling around its feet as its eyes went wide with the shock of death.
The beast crumpled, its body collapsing with a shudder and its axe falling from its grasp. The echo of its fall reverberated through the clearing, a final note in a symphony of chaos.
Avi stood over it, chest heaving, hands slick with the monster's blood. The world tilted, the blurry edges of his vision fracturing further. The exhaustion, the pain, and the heat of battle all coalesced into a single, overwhelming wave. His knees buckled, and for a moment, the ground threatened to rise up to meet him.
The shouts of his teammates grew muffled, a distant chorus as darkness crept in. He tried to lift his right arm, a simple gesture, a signal that he was still standing. A smile tugged at the corners of his cracked lips, even as the blood dripped from his nose, mouth, and ears. The metallic tang pooled in his mouth, a reminder that he was still there, still breathing, and yet barely clinging to consciousness.
"Focus the healing on him!" Alex's voice cut through the fog, urgent and fierce. "He can't die! We need him!"
Emily's voice followed, piercing through the haze. "Stay with us, Avi! Please, stay with us!"
But Avi's vision was fading, the world blurring into a muted canvas of shadows and shapes. His body swayed, unable to tell if he was still upright or if he was already falling. The heat of blood and the thundering of his heart were the only things anchoring him.
With a grin that was barely visible through the blood and pain, he whispered, voice slurred and ragged, "So... this is what it feels like to be a celebrity?"