Icy mist rolled off the pale skin of the humanoid beast in raging fumes. It moved, crossing the distance between them in a split second. The mist that surrounded it solidified into two sharp-edged daggers, which it grasped mid-air and swung towards the human.
The sword saint, mid-stride, felt the looming threat and halted in her tracks. Her metal boots dug furrows into the ground as two cold-edged blades flashed towards her neck. They missed her by an inch, their sharp edges nicking her skin, and a visible frostbite began to spread from the small cuts.
Elaine swung her long sword towards the enemy, but the blade simply phased through mist. A strong blow struck her back, and the impact sent her flying.
She felt the force of whatever had struck her rattle her spine. Her fingertips were rapidly growing numb, and the nerves in her body finally transmitted the pain. She let out a curse rather than a scream, her body twisting mid-air as she dug her feet into the ground for a landing.
The beast didn't give her any time to think, flashing its daggers towards her with another attempt to claim her life. Either from fear or from the drastically low temperature, Elaine felt a chill run through her body. Instinctively, she raised her blade at the last second.
Clank.
The silver sword deflected the reflective, glass-like blades. The force of the clash destabilised her balance, causing her to miss the pale fist that shot towards her side.
The impact detonated against her armour like compressed, chaotic mana. The air stilled like frost before launching her body into the forest. The reverberation of the blow permeated her bones.
Her body travelled fast. Blurry images flashed past her, and her mind failed to register any of them. All she felt was pain. The blow had struck her right side. Her armour had been dented so badly it pressed against her ribs, which had shattered on impact.
Fragmented pieces of bone prickled against her lungs, and slowly the internal bleeding began to build.
A tall tree that had survived the crimson tempest caught her body. She crashed into its trunk, metal scraping against dried bark, and fell to her knees. The tree shook on impact, its countless branches rattling into the night. The noise alerted the beast to her position.
The sword saint felt streaks of blood cloud her vision. She had greatly underestimated the humanoid beast. Its physical prowess far exceeded hers, and she couldn't imagine how much mana the beast still had reserved in its core.
Each blow rattled her brain and twisted reality in a thrashing cycle as her body swung forward like a rag doll. Any more of this, and the idea of death didn't seem so distant. She had to find a way to even the playing field.
The short seconds of reprieve came to an end. The space around her trembled with a force that signified the approach of the beast. She darted to the side, a high kick missed her head and struck the tree.
Dried wood splinters scattered across her face. A large section of the tall tree had been obliterated.
She kicked off the ground and threw a fist of her own. The beast, whose leg was still held high, didn't attempt to dodge. The punch struck with little to no effect. The creature didn't budge from its position.
The sword saint's expression darkened. Even her attacks had no effect on it.
The sound of rushing water filled her ears. There was a lake nearby—or even better, a river. If she could get to it, then maybe she could even the field… or at least lessen her disadvantage.
She faced the direction of the sound and bolted towards it, zigzagging through the trees so as not to give the beast a clear sight of her.
The humanoid beast slowly lowered its leg after standing like an immovable ice sculpture. Its dark eyes stared at the direction the human had run towards.
Seconds passed. It wanted her to run.
To relish in the hope of escape—then coldly take it away.
The same way she had taken its companion.
Eventually, it moved. Following in the same direction.
Aster, who had been watching the clash between the sword saint and the beast, could no longer keep up with what he saw. After barely surviving the crimson tornado that had threatened to swallow him, he focused once again on the battle.
Realising that the lady had killed one of the beasts, the thought of her absolute strength solidified in his mind.
She had evened the playing field—fought two powerful beasts while outnumbered and still managed to kill one. All that remained was for her to kill the other.
But like fragile glass, those thoughts shattered.
The last beast felt terrifying, consuming Aster with a dread that nearly equalled death itself. He could feel the soaked, worn-out fabrics on his body freezing over.
He had survived the vines, miraculously endured losing so much blood… only for the cold to now threaten his life.
The image of absolute strength he had built around the lady slowly began to crumble. Even though she was strong, that strength no longer looked untouchable.
Raging footsteps filled the space around him. People were arriving.
"Look over there," someone said, pointing towards him.
The footsteps rushed forward, and in under a second, about a dozen people surrounded him.
They didn't know how to approach. At first glance, they could all see that he was just a kid—but that wasn't what kept them at a distance.
The boy looked physically dead.
His skin was so pale it was almost bone-white… but his eyes were sharp and focused, staring back at them like something beyond the grave.
Eventually, someone broke the silence and stepped forward. Short red hair. Deep black eyes. Average height.
Vivian.
"Hey, kid. Did you see a lady here?"
The question came out firm and direct. They all had eyes to witness the destruction that had plagued the outskirts of the back gate.
But the sword saint they had come for…
…was nowhere to be seen.