Kael's heart thundered in his ears, blood crashing through his body like a tidal wave, washing everything else away.
They flowed with a savage grace, the curved blade flashing cold light in the shadows. He wasn't human, not really; his movements were far too smooth, too deliberate, and those eyes. In those cold, calculating eyes was naught but death.
The only one of the Shadowborne that Kael had not yet met had finally factored into the equation.
The figure moved forward again, raising his blade, the cruel smile on his lips barely visible beneath his hood. "It's been too long, Kael; you're a thorn in my side."
Kael wheezed and fought for breath, his blood-drenched clothes weighing down on him as he fought to stay upright. The eccentrically potent potion of the cryptic vagabond had only granted him a single moment of reprieve in the fight, and it was gone. His wounds were bad, and the burning in his muscles hadn't ever stopped; the grip on his sword slipped.
The lips of the figure curved into a languid, predatory grin. "You're a stubborn one. I'll give you that.
But before Kael could even react, a figure shot toward him, knife glittering in motion. Kael's instincts kicked in, and he twisted sideways; the blow missed by millimeters, its passing ripping the air where a heartbeat ago had been his throat.
The man went tumbling forward, and Kael swung his sword up toward the man's exposed ribs.
But the figure was too fast. He spun, his foot touching down with the elegant ease of a dancer before rolling back to his feet, his blade cutting through the air to catch Kael's strike in a loose parry that took zero effort.
"Pathetic," the figure said in a cold, cruel voice. "You're not even really worth it."
Kael gritted his teeth but pressed on, his sword descending in a savage arc. The figure deflected it again, blades tangling in a vicious snarl.
Kael gritted his teeth, and sparks flew everywhere as every muscle in his body strained. But the figure was strong beyond measure. As the other man's blow forced him back, Kael's legs buckled, his knees slamming into the ground with a sickening thunk.
The figure smiled, his grin growing while he lifted his blade for the final strike. Kael's vision swam, but he did not yield. Not yet.
"Fuck you," Kael spat.
With a snarl, Kael forced himself up, his sword raised overhead in one final, desperate strike. The figure's blade connected with his, sending shockwaves through Kael's arms, but raw rage drove him onward. Kael was no longer thinking. Every swing of his sword, every movement of his body, was powered by primal, insatiable rage. None of his wounds or his pain mattered.
He pulled back, surprised by Kael's power but only for a heartbeat. He collected himself, his eyes narrowing in mirth.
"You really are tireless," the figure remarked, a cruel smile growing on his lips. "But when it comes down to it, you'll die just like everyone else.
Kael's body shook. His grip loosened, and the sword left his hand. He was on fumes, his eyes blurred with blood running from his wounds. His mind was schismatic at the corners, but he could not fall. He wouldn't.
The figure lunged again, the blade slicing the air, like lightning. Kael tried to bring his sword up fast enough to block the hit, but it slammed into his body, vibrating up and down him before sending a shiver of pain directly into his chest. He was so close to the edge, one breath from obliteration.
But then something changed.
A sound echoed in the alley, just as if someone broke the bone, making a sick noise; it made Kael's blood freeze in fear. Whatever force was in the figure's arm, the one holding the blade, twisted it in a way it was not meant to bend, a force greater than man was meant to wield.
Kael blinked, at a loss for how this could possibly be true. The figure staggered back, his eyes alight with shock.
"What?"
Before the figure could react, something moved in its shadow. The other person, the quickest Kael had ever seen, drew it in, absorbing the impact of the crash inside him, like the petal of a thunderclap. The tall figure, who wielded two blades and was wearing dark robes. He moved so fast, no one could read his steps in time.
And he never had a chance.
With one go, the hidden soldier breached the man's defenses, sliding smoothly through his build in a swift stroke. The figure gasped out a strangled gasp, his body collapsing into a heap on the ground, as two blades did the rest of the job through a series of brutal, calculated strikes in merciless precision.
The last thing that Kael saw before the figure's corpse impacted the concrete floor was the blood flowing from his throat like a pair of red paintbrushes against the wall.
The alley returned to silence, except for the heavy, labored breathing of Kael. He beat his own chest, seeking to understand what had just happened.
A being that toyed with him like he was nothing, that felt unassailable, is just a pile of dead meat on the dirt now.
The mysterious warrior stood over the corpse, his inscrutable dark eyes as he wiped the blood off his blades.
Kael gaped, still struggling to breathe. "Who the hell are you?"
The warrior did not respond right away. Instead, he pivoted, his eyes locking onto Kael's, and for one brief second, Kael could see the darkness behind those eyes. The hunger. The hunger for more blood. The hunger for destruction.
"I am not your ally, Kael," the warrior said at last, his voice low and ominous. "But for the moment we have a common enemy."
Kael's head spun, and the world tilted dangerously sideways. He sensed the elixir was wearing off, fading from his system. His knees turned weak, and he would have collapsed if not for the warrior's strong hand, bracing his arm.
"Get up," the warrior growled, tightening his grip. "We're not done yet."
Kael's gaze drifted to the bloodstained face of the warrior, his heart beating more rapidly than it ever had. There was something in this man that got on his nerves, something cold and ruthless that Kael couldn't identify.
"You're a fucking psychopath," said Kael, spitting, but he let himself be pulled to his feet.
The warrior remained silent, eyes fixed around them, keeping what seemed like a lookout for danger. Kael's mind raced. The alley was silent, but that did not mean they were safe. It never meant they were out of danger.
My suddenly breaking the silence was the sound of footsteps far away.
More.
The warrior spun toward the noise, his body coiled and prepared for action. "We do not have a lot of time," he said summarily, urgency lacing his tone. "They are coming."
Kael, struggling to steady himself, lifted his sword. "Not quite done, huh?"