Chapter 35: Way of the Voice: Part 4
"Kill him. And bring the women inside," the armoured marauder grunted, turning away, toward the wooden door. He didn't look back, a serious mistake.
The bowstring creaked from above.
Foosh!
In the split-second that followed, I threw my hand forward. A shield burst from my inventory mid-air, held firmly in my palm with a shimmer of light, just as the arrow struck.
Thwack!
It hit dead center and stopped cold against the curved metal, the tip embedded in the steel.
I moved without breath.
My right arm slid across Lydia's chest, still seated in front of me, and in that instant, I stepped into her inventory. Her armor vanished in a flicker, replaced by my traveling tunic. Lightweight now.
I hooked my arm around her waist and heaved, lifting her effortlessly from the saddle. Her body arced through the air and landed beside the horse. The moment her boots touched the earth, her steel armor returned with a shimmer, secured like before. At the same time, my own armor snapped back into existence over my torso, replacing the plain linen shirt I'd been wearing. Perhaps the reason for their underestimation.
All of it, inventory shifts, motion, gear, all happened in a heartbeat. Lydia stood confused at my side, trying to make sense of it all.
The marauder's eyes turned to me, too slow, as if the world was moving to my need.
The axe-man behind him, still laughing, his eyes shut like a fool.
The archer still had his eyes open, a frown on his brow, as he reached for another arrow.
The shield disappeared from my arm, the arrow embedded in it began to fall, as my bow materialized into my hand.
I drew back instinctively, no quiver needed, as an iron arrow conjured itself between my fingers.
I let it fly.
Swish!
The arrow made its way toward the marauder, aimed at the gap in his armor near the neck—Squelch!—and he dropped before he could fully turn to me. His body crumpled, his hand clutching his neck, stopping the blood from spraying out.
But I wasn't done.
The axe-wielding thug blinked, mouth parting in confusion, just as I loosed a second shot.
Thwip—
Squelch!
His right eye penetrated, reaching and piercing his brain, and he dropped like a sack of meat.
The shield returned to my hand as I spun it upward, preparing to block another arrow, but… the bastard was already gone.
Then—
A scream.
"WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!"
I quickly dismounted the horse, and Uthgerd had gotten off of hers, her eyes darting between the two corpses and me.
Lydia had already drawn her sword. "W-we can go, make a run for Ivarstead," she muttered, her mind still puzzled.
I glanced at her, "Nah."
She blinked at me, uncertain. Before she could protest, I slipped inside the tower, "Stay here," I said over my shoulder, low but firm. "Don't move until you hear the sound of footsteps on the bridge above."
Lydia gave me a reluctant nod. Uthgerd frowned, stepping forward, her mouth opening. "You don't think—"
"It's an order," I cut her off, my voice sharp.
Uthgerd froze; she didn't like it, but she had to obey.
I climbed the stone stairs, going to the bridge's edge, my eyes darting to the tower across the river. I saw the orange light flickering inside, perhaps getting ready.
I went inside the tower behind me, now on the first floor, my bow drawn, the string pulled taut, empty but ready. Moonlight shone through the wooden planks above.
As I stepped forward, I caught a shadow moving from above.
The archer, his bow ready.
I dashed forward, getting into his view, before he could release the arrow, my shield appeared—Thawck!—blocking it.
His hands were already on his quiver, reloading, as I sprinted up the stairs.
By the time I emerged on the rooftop, his second arrow loosed—Foosh!—and again, I summoned the shield, blocking it, and returned it to my inventory, letting the arrow fall.
He cursed, panic setting in.
Then he dropped the bow and reached for a knife strapped to his hip. His hand trembled. I saw the fear in his face, with the moonlight shining behind me. I advanced slowly.
He backed away, one step at a time, until his back hit the stone rampart. His eyes flicked over his shoulder—behind, across the bridge, dark shapes were moving, more bandits rushing over to join him.
"You're gonna die," he hissed, his voice cracked mid-laugh.
He hesitated. "If you spare me—"
FUS!
My voice ripped through the night like a thunderclap.
The Shout echoed off the mountains, sharp and monstrous. The force slammed into him like a warhammer. The stone rampart behind him exploded into fragments, shattering outward. His body lifted from the ground and flew backwards with a sickening snap, blood streaming from his ears and nose. His eyes rolled back, bloodshot and blind.
He flew back, falling on the bridge, his body folding on impact.
I stepped forward to the edge of the tower, bow in hand, gazing down across the bridge; they had already crossed half the bridge.
Now standing, looking at the man's mangled body lying in front of them, blood pooled around him, his eyes bleeding, his skull cracked open.
Moonlight bathed me in cold silver as I stood above them, steel armor gleaming faintly, my golden hair just long enough to catch the wind, swaying behind me.
Across from me, on the other side of the river. Three archers were in position, two above the wooden post on the second tower, one below, beside the tower, standing near the cliff.
"Stop!" I bellowed loudly.
My voice cracked from the strain of the Shout. I winced, bringing a hand to my throat. Argh! Damn! That hurts…
The sudden scream wasn't meant for the Bandits, but the two below, they would be eager to see what that loud Shout was, but I didn't want them to come up just yet.
The bandits' eyes turned to me, fear palpable in their eyes, flickering between me and the archer's body, destroyed beyond repair.
I pointed at them, as they flinched, a bow appeared, I stretched the string, and released it.
It wasn't aimed at the bandits below, but at the archer across the river.
The arrow flew, slicing the night and striking one of the archers square in the chest. He crumpled forward as the other looked at him in horror.
Bullseye!
I nocked another—released—and a miss.
Damn it!
Footsteps thundered below me as the bandits recovered and rushed toward the tower, which was their only option; if they ran back, they'd get an arrow in the back
I continued to release the string, as almost all the bandits got inside.
By the time the first bandit reached the rooftop behind me, panting and sword drawn, I had already loosed several arrows—two archers on the post, dead, the one by the cliff fell off with an arrow in the knee.
Two dead at the bridge before they could get inside.
"Seven left," I muttered, spinning toward the stairs where more boots echoed.
I brandished my sword, its dark metal shining in the moonlight, giving it a greenish glow.
My focus shifted as the first bandit moved across the roof with careful precision, moving to my right, giving space for the next pair pushing the stairs behind him. The rooftop wasn't big enough for all of them. That worked in my favor.
Then a scream echoed from the side, the stairwell, grabbing everyone's attention. Lydia.
Another thug shrieked in agony as blood sprayed through the gaps in the stairs. Uthgerd's longsword had punched up from the gap, cleaving through a thigh like it was cloth. The man dropped, crashing hard.
Blood splattered down onto Uthger's face as she looked up, moonlight shining through the creaks, grinning like a wolf.
Lydia, on the stairwell, dropped the first one and caught the bleeding man, stabbing him in the back.
A moment of chaos, or should I say opportunity.
My left hand flared with flames—[Flame]—while my right hummed with electricity as I swept my Nordic sword through the air, channeling the [Shock] spell through it.
The moment they turned back to me, I let loose a blinking blast of fire—orange spray of light flaring through the night. Screams tore from two of them as their hair and fur cloaks caught on fire.
I stepped forward.
My flaming hand dropped, and my blade flashed.
Squelch!
I decapitated the nearest one on my left.
I leaned, stretching out the blade's reach, driving the point toward the bandit guardian, the stairs [Shock] discharged through his gut, paralyzing him mid-motion.
I saw a shadow move on my right, but I wasn't fast enough.
A deep cut tore across my bicep. My fingers spasmed, losing grip. The blade almost fell.
I lashed out in response, swinging wide to push him back.
Clang!
He stumbled away just as Lydia reached the roof, blade flashing red. She didn't hesitate and drove her sword through the paralyzed man's heart and turned, facing the one who'd cut me.
"My Thane!" Her voice came, worried.
"I'm alright!" I groaned, my throat still sore, as I clutched the wound.
The man raised his weapon defensively, but before Lydia could rush forward, the two behind him recovered, having put out the fire, their hair burnt, anger flashing in both's eyes.
Uthgerd surged up beside Lydia, her boots heavy against the rooftop's creaking wood.
Now it was three against three.
My arm throbbed.
I stepped back, breathing hard, watching Lydia and Uthgerd square off with the remaining foes. The rooftop was too tight for Uthger's two-handed swings, a miscalculation on my part. She grunted in frustration, using sortened thrusts.
Lydia was her own, but barely. She couldn't keep all eyes, and the bandits were flanking, with Uthgerd at her side; the space was too small for both of them.
And me?
I couldn't use [Flame]. Not now. The spell's spray was wide, even if I were to narrow it, it would still spread due to the wind, and end up burning Uthgerd and Lydia. I couldn't even Shout, without them getting in the way, Damn it!
Then—
I looked down,
At the creaking wooden floorboard under our boots—the height wasn't much, but enough to stagger anyone.
I braced myself.
My lungs burned now, but I continued.
FUS!
The Shout erupted from my throat, like a serrated blade, a burst of raw force escaped along with blood, that shattered the air and the rooftop beneath our feet. The floor exploded—beams cracked and gave way. All six of us dropped in an instant, the world becoming nothing but collapsing stone and splinters and falling screams.
Crash!
We landed in a tangled heap on the floor, dust choking the air, all five of them on the floor, and only I remained standing.
I coughed, a mouthful of blood, but I didn't care, I stepped forward, silencing the three's necks.
By the time the dust settled, footsteps thudded next to me.
Lydia, holding her right hand with her left, a pained expression on her face, "Are you alright?" she asked.
I nodded, wiping the blood from my mouth.
Uthgerd stood from the rubble, glaring at me, "You should've warned us," she said, coughing from the dust.
"Yeah, yeah," I said, my voice low and deep, I can't spam the Shout.
What a let down.
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