Kael's legs trembled under him, the agony of his injuries pulling him down to the floor, but he could not sink. Blood pooled around his boots and seeped through the dripping, black alley to become a red hell.
His breath came out in harsh gasps, his sword a heavy burden in his hand, screaming along every inch of his body, his muscles crying out in sheer rebellion. But he wasn't finished yet. Not when there was more death closing in on him.
The steps were coming more quickly now, a rhythm of boots against wet cobblestones, and Kael's gaze swept across the alley. The figures crept out of the darkness, their outlines black and feline, their pace unhurried, as if they knew that their prey was vulnerable, already on the edge.
Kael's heart pounded in his chest. His hand clenched tighter on his sword as he staggered into a defensive position, even though every muscle in his body was crying out for him to get down and die.
"Where is your savior now, Kael?" one of the men jeered, his tone rough with laughter. "Isn't it adorable, watching you struggle?
He stepped forward, his black cloak flowing behind him, a serrated sword shining in the half-dark. The others came after, each of them shrouded in darkness, their faces obscured, but the hunger in their steps was unmistakable.
Kael swallowed hard, his tongue dry as ash in his mouth. "Come on, then. Get it over with," he spat, his voice thick with defiance.
One of the men smiled, a cold, cruel smile that sent shivers down Kael's spine. The ring of metal on leather rang out in the alley as the man unsheathed his sword.
"Don't worry, Kael," the man purred. "We'll make you suffer before we kill you.".
Kael's blood seethed. He grew weary of agony. Weary of frailty. His flesh was shattered, but his heart—his spirit—was whole. He bellowed and stumbled forward, bringing his sword slashing down in a cruel curve.
The figure moved too fast, and the blow was deflected with a metallic clash. But Kael did not relent and swung all he could. His sword plunged deep into the figure's shoulder, eliciting a loud, satisfying cry of agony. The wound erupted in blood, but the figure did not drop. He spun, his blade slicing into Kael's side, cutting deep.
Kael stumbled back, his breathing in a harsh hiss, but his fury did not cease. He could feel the burning blood dripping down his frame, mixing with the rain, but he didn't care. He was not going to die this way. Not if he had any say in it.
Another man entered the doorway, his sword already drawn. Before Kael could react, the man brought his sword down at Kael's head.
But Kael was fast enough.
With a desperate flourish, he dove beneath the blade, air hissing through his ears, and went up with the sword, driving it deep into the second figure's chest. The man's eyes widen in shock, his breath a harsh gasp as Kael wrenches the blade, yanking it free in a sickly gurgle. The body collapses, falling into a heap at his feet.
Victory for but an instant.
And then the wave returns.
The third man didn't even flinch, charging at a pace that was nigh impossible to keep up with. Kael attempted to shift, but his body was heavy, his limbs weighed down by blood loss. The man's sword sliced into Kael's side, cutting through the ripped remains of his armor, the agony so overwhelming that Kael came close to passing out. He clenched his teeth, struggling to remain standing as the man's sword writhed within him.
A growl of rage ripped through Kael's chest, but before he could strike back, a burst of movement was visible: a flash of metal.
The warrior.
Kael's heart jumped. There, again, emerged the hooded figure who had rescued him before, a specter in action. His twin swords sliced through the air with a killing blur of precision. The third killer opened his jaws to cry out, but the warrior did not permit it. In a smooth motion, the blades entered the assassin's throat; the corpse fell to the floor with a last, wet gasp.
You need to get the fuck up," the warrior snarled, his tone icy. He was crossing to Kael in a heartbeat, grabbing him by the arm, disregarding his blood-drenched body. "This isn't over."
Kael's head reeled as the warrior pulled him upright, but everything around him seemed to be going away. His eyes blurred, and for a second, he feared he was going to fall.
"I'm not finished yet, you son of a dog," Kael snarled, shoving the haze aside that sought to engulf him. He clutched his sword firmly once more, its weight comforting in the face of all the atrocities that beset him. "You want me to die here? You want to complete the task for yourself?"
The warrior glanced at him with a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. "No. But they'll keep coming. And you're too damn stubborn to just lie down and die."
Kael blinked, his mind fighting to catch up. More? More of them?
The alleyway lay out before him, each shadow threatening, the beat of footsteps now a ringing in his head. The others were approaching. More assassins. More murder.
And the street ahead of them erupted into motion, a whirlpool of movement, as four additional assassins emerged, swords glinting in deadly purpose.
Kael had no thought to shape. He launched himself forward, a curve of anger, cutting across the chest of the first of them with a howl of rage. Blood splattered on his face, but he could barely move another step when another one charged him.
This time, it was the warrior who acted first. He was not only quick; he was a blur, his swords slicing through the air with deadly accuracy.
One of the assassins crumpled with a ghastly shriek, his throat slit open in a split second. The others paused, their gaze darting to Kael as if weighing who was the greater threat.
Kael's vision flashed once more, but he clenched his teeth and pushed on, his sword raised high. He couldn't afford to hesitate.
The second assassin thrust his sword at him, the tip heading toward his head. Kael almost didn't catch it, diverting the force with a ring of metal through his arm that sent searing pain shooting out. He caught the man across the stomach with a kick before he could do anything else to him.
The warrior was already in motion, his twin swords flashing. He dodged beneath a swing, slicing through the assassin's legs, and the man thudded to the ground with a pained shriek.
Kael's gut twisted. He was at the breaking point now. His power was ebbing away, but he couldn't halt.
Not now. Not when the blood of his foes was still in the air.
The two remaining assassins advanced. One on the left struck Kael with a raised blade.
The other moved around him. Kael screamed, but his body trailed behind. The sword sliced across his flank, and Kael stumbled, blood trickling from his lips, as he struggled to breathe.
The warrior's tone was cold and crisp. "Get out of the way.".
Kael barely had time to respond as the warrior charged forward, his sword slicing through the air with deadly purpose. In a single smooth motion, he dispatched the first assassin, his double blades sinking into the man's chest in a swift, bloody blow. The face of the final assassin contorted in terror, but it was too late.
The warrior's sword descended with the weight of a death warrant, slashing through the man's throat.
Silence descended. The bloodstorm and violence quieted for a moment.
But Kael recognized it wasn't finished. The shadows in the alley were still heavy, the air still full of death. Others would come. They always did.
He didn't wait. His gaze didn't waver from the blackness in front of him; his body tensed for another assault. Kael couldn't catch his breath, pleading with his body to let go, but he gritted his teeth and held on.
More killing. More blood. War was far from over.