Chapter 63: Experience Is Key

Everything was at a standstill, even the constant magically powered breeze seemed to have halted. The group of ten readied themselves as the bandits tightened the circle around them. With the radiant white light still being produced by the magical stone resting in the sky, they had no trouble seeing how outnumbered they truly were.

A particularly ugly bandit stepped forward, his one good eye radiating a dim crimson glow. "If you lot could go ahead and die, that would be great."

Carver knew better than to engage in unproductive banter, especially during a tense situation such as this. He had been through more life and death battles than most would ever experience. All of his years of experience were screaming at him that there were more to these men than what was visible on the surface. Well, there was also the fact that they were able to survive from an otherwise fatal injury.

"Surrender now and I'll guarantee that you'll be able to live out the rest of your lives in the copper mines." Michael offered an unappetizing deal to the men.

Carver shook his head. He had only traveled with Michael for the last few days, so he didn't know how experienced he was with fighting, especially against other humans. It was clear he was well trained but engaging with the enemy was a rookie mistake. Even now, the suspicious bandits were slowly moving into position, cutting off any escape routes.

The one-eyed bandit started to laugh, taking Michael's offer as a hilarious joke. "You fool! Don't ya see you're..."

Michael moved. In less than half a second, he had closed the distance between him and the one-eyed man. Using the shield held aloft in his left hand, he slammed into the man's body. Knocked off balance, the one-eyed man was unable to strike back with any accuracy; missing Michael's armored head as he swung his sword in retaliation.

Michael's three-foot long morning star weighed ten pounds and had three-inch-long tapered spikes jutting from the surface over the entire diameter of the weapon. The air whistled as it swung in a wide, over-head arc, causing the one-eyed man's head to explode like a rotten pumpkin fermenting in the hot sun. Michael frowned as blood, bone, and brain matter soiled his polished armor. He'd have to deep clean his armor once he returned to the church, that was something he did not enjoy.

Carver smirked seeing the scene that unfolded in front of him, but he did not have time to dwell on it as the remaining bandits charged at them. Unharmonious battle cries cleaved the air as they rippled through the dead woods. Swords clashed, arrows weaved between the combatants, hitting their marks. Carver held his broadsword in a two-handed grip as he parried a bandit's short sword, side stepping to the right, he skillfully dodged another blade aimed at his heart.

From his short exchange he could tell that the bandits, although unnaturally strong, were lacking severely in skill. They were relying on simple brute force, attempting to plainly overpower their opponents. He parried another strike before ramming a bandit with his shoulder, pushing him onto his back foot. With a powerful swing at waist level, his meticulously honed sword split flesh and bone, bisecting the man. Hot innards spilled out, adding more mist to the fog still being pushed away by Trevor's spell.

Being the source of the winds keeping the thick mist at bay, Trevor was being viciously targeted by the bandits. It was all Tim and Hank could do to keep him safe, let alone protect the others. Sparks flew as steel blades clawed at their shields, even in the winter air, the two shield wielders were sweating profusely and panting heavily. Kain was busy casting his holy magic, boosting the other's abilities, allowing them to keep up with the bandit's assault. William had thrown his bow to the ground, forced to fight hand to hand against two of the bandits.

William was a ranger, well suited for scouting and tracking, not for close up battles where he could not move around. Even boosted by Kain's spells, his hands would quiver with each strike he barely managed to block or parry. He was very quickly becoming overwhelmed, and from the ever-increasing red glow coming from the bandit's eyes, he could see that they were enjoying this. An overhead swing came from one of the bandits; he moved his short sword to block it. Unable to take anymore of the abuse, William's sword snapped, letting the bandit's blade bite deeply into his shoulder.

There was no pain, not immediately, he felt only intense pressure followed by equally intense heat coming from his shoulder. His arm was now useless, it dangled at his side like a dead fish, flopping around as he barely evaded another blow coming from the second bandit. He rolled on the ground as the blade followed him and buried itself into the forest floor. The edges of his vision grayed and the sounds of battle that were once so close to him now sounded as if they were miles away.

He tried to stand but instead fell to one knee, he was tired, so incredibly tired. Dark blood oozed from the deep laceration, his exposed collar bone was shattered, and pink bubbles foamed up indictive of a punctured lung. He strained to keep his focus on the man strolling up to him, taking his time, even in the midst of the chaotic battlefield. A wicked grin spread across the bandit's face as he gripped his sword tightly before swinging, aiming for William's neck.

"William! NO!" A scream sounded out, momentarily overpowering the sounds of steel striking steel. Kiara stood there helplessly as she bore witness to one of her closest friends, her lover, being cut down. William's decapitated head rolled across the forest floor before coming to a rest just underneath a dead oak tree. Her eyes glowed menacingly as mana surged from deep within her, pushing her lithe body to its limits.

She used her bow as a club, shattering the flexible weapon across a bandit's face before stabbing the jagged end she held into another's eye, deep into his brain. Pushing off of the ground with all her might, she sailed through the air and landed gracefully onto a high branch on a nearby tree. From up on her perch, she could see the entire battlefield. Her mana enhanced vision allowed her to process things much faster, slowing down all of the movements she saw.

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She might have been enraged, but she had enough battle experience to not allow her emotions to affect her decision making. She knew that, although they were much more skilled than the bandits, the numbers did not favor her group. The two she had maimed would soon be back on their feet so she had to help out where she could while she had the chance.

Carver took a strike to his arm, the red scaled armor he wore was worth the exorbitant price he had paid, as it prevented the blade from amputating it; but he still grimaced in pain as the shockwave entered his body. Siena danced among the battlefield, her rapier weaving a tapestry of death as she deftly dodged or parried any blows that came her way. She always aimed for the heads of the bandits, quickly learning that anything less would only slow them down as they quickly healed.

Michael was surrounded by four bandits, taking several blows to his plate armor and shield. He was clearly becoming exhausted as his movements began to slow and his chest heaving. She was about to pounce from her vantage point as the four bandits moved in for the kill, they had sensed Michael's steps begin to falter. Just as her legs were primed to propel her from her roost, Michael sprang forward, brandishing his Morningstar.

In one fluid motion he crushed a bandit's skull with the spiked ball of steel before flinging his shield into the diaphragm of another. Using his now free hand, he clutched the neck of a third bandit, lifting him up into the air before slamming him back down into the ground. Although the bandits' strength was three times as much as a normal man's, their weight remained the same. It was nothing for Michael, who was enhanced with magic, to handle a grown man like a sack of potatoes.

Kiara watched as the bandit's head caved in on itself and pink brain matter spattered Michael's boots. As Michael rampaged like a wild beast, she set her sights on Trevor and Kain, still being besieged by over half a dozen of the bandits. Hank and Tim were on their last legs, doing all they could to beat back the encroaching killers. Suddenly, a shadow moved from behind one of the bandits, an unnatural movement not belonging to its owner.

Manifesting from the pitch blackness, a dark hand reached out and clutched onto the bandit's leg. Surprised by the sudden touch, the bandit jumped and kicked at the shadow, but it was too late. The vice like grip of the phantom hand pulled the bandit, feet first, into his own shadow. When he was halfway into the ground the shadow slid across the dirt and blended into another, leaving the bandit planted into the forest floor.

Jake had deployed his 'shadow' magic, it really wasn't anything dark or nefarious, just elegant use of run of the mill earth magic. It granted him the ability to swim in the loose soil, allowing the rogue to move around freely under the noses of his foes. It was extremely useful in one-on-one battles but could only be used for a limited amount of time. Being that there were so many enemies, Jake would never be able to kill all of them before they overpowered Tim and Hank.

Taking two arrows out of her leather quiver and holding one in each hand, Kiara used the branch as a springboard and propelled herself into the thick of battle. She ignored the now two bandits buried up to their chests, taking the arrows in an overhand grip, she plunged the two of them into a bandit's temples and scrambled his brain. Dropping down into a crouch, she unsheathed her large hunting knife before springing back up and slitting the throat of another.

Having now lost the element of surprise, she retreated back into the trees, but her guerrilla style attack helped cut the number of bandits pressing Tim and Hank in half. Now they were able to use their swords for more than just parrying attacks. They made short work of the two remaining bandits, they were no match for Tim and Hank's years of training and experience. By the time the two buried bandits lost their heads, silence had returned to the dead woods once more.

Michael was covered in blood and gore, this time truly exhausted as he gasped for air and knelt on the forest floor. Kain's magic allowed him to go well beyond what a normal human could physically accomplish, but it also took a heavy toll on his body. It would take several days and many potions to heal all of his internal injuries but being able to survive another day was well worth the cost. Carver was in much the same state as Michael, he also took advantage of Kain's magic. He took many more hits than Michael had, his armor wasn't as sturdy as his as well, so a few of his bones were fractured and broken.

Siena only suffered a few light wounds, the deepest had already stopped bleeding naturally. Trevor, Kain, and Jake were all pale and clammy, barely able to stand, they were suffering from mana exhaustion. The thick mist had already begun to slowly creep towards them as Trevor had cut off his spell. Hank and Tim were uninjured for the most part, only suffering from the shock of repeated blows to their shields and swords.

The worst off of them all was of course, William. Kiara jumped down from a high branch, landing squarely on the head of a bisected bandit that was desperately crawling to escape, dragging his entrails behind him. She walked over to a tall tree before crouching down near the trunk, brushing her golden hair behind her long-pointed ears, she gingerly picked up William's severed head, cradling it. There was no longer any glow in her eyes as she looked at William's face with longing and regret.

"How pathetic, utterly useless." A gruff voice echoed through the trees, breaking the cycle of Kiara's guilty thoughts.

She whipped around, still clutching her deceased lover's head. The mist was still thin enough for her to make out a large figure standing amongst them with hands behind their back. The man dressed in an elegant dark blue suit was staring down at the mutilated corpse of one of the bandits. Nothing but disgust could be seen on his attractive but twisted face.

Taking care not to dirty his suit, the out of place man kicked the body away, sending it careening into the forest beyond their view. Looking up, he addressed the fatigue ridden group. "You've all proven your worth, much more so than these troglodytes. I will offer this once, and once only.. Submit and serve, or die a dog's death."

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