Rainfall lasted all day.
Just over a week's travel, trudging through mud, puddles, and overflowing rivers, they were just an hour's walk to Dranynsville's roads. Light shined in the distance, town light, something he'd almost forgotten.
Though it was difficult to tell with the rain, he knew Al was crying, and he didn't blame her.
Shadows thickened as they got closer to town.
Bells rang, ever so faint, and light from the town disappeared.
Scimitar drawn, Al whispered, "Smell that?"
It was beautiful.
Hot blood stench breath, smoke rising from shadows nearest the wood line.
As if all the dark gods answered his soulless prayers, blessing the woods with Marryvia's shadow walking arses believing themselves to be immortal. A little bit of sunlight or a wave of a cross sent them hiding.
His flail arm couldn't have been more ready.
Red and yellow eyes appeared between trees. Fire sparked, a few vampyres weaving their staves. Others crept out the shadows, swords drawn, hissing in old tongues.
A deep horn bellowed.
Fiery gazes disappeared, black blades sheathed, and the last of the vampyres cursed, slipping back into the shadows.
"Coward fuck!" He barked, slinging his flail out.
Trunks snapped like twigs, though he didn't land a hit.
While bringing back his flail, the horn bellowed again, closer. Steel rang against steel, heavy footsteps pounded closer.
Al's heart raced, as did his, though he was more thrilled than nervous.
"You," he hissed, growing a wide grin.
More glory to the pagan gods, as a prayer he didn't know needed answering was gifted to him.
Against the flicker of grazing steel, hammers knocking against one another, The Nemesis appeared.
Rainfall became an endless downpour. Lightning illuminated the woods, the ground rumbled, and he saw the Nemesis looming overhead at least a foot higher than before. More giant then man, his destined foe made of steel, muscle, and silent hatred was stronger than at any point before.
Were he and Al to multiply themselves by two they'd likely have a chance, and he even doubted that.
"Go," he told her, giving her a light shove, "make for the town, your faster!"
"I'm not leaving you," she spat, getting tight beside his shield.
"If he kills you, you'll be sent back to the swamp," he muttered, the Nemesis twirling both hammers.
She gasped, then tugged his arm. "We just have to ma-."
They ducked, hammers missing by inches.
Split apart, Al darted off into the woods. Hammers pounded against his shield, cracking his forearm bone. He cursed, backing himself into a muddy puddle, but kept his feet square.
A swing low, and the Nemesis jumped, as he expected. While the Nemesis regained footing he rammed with his broken shield.
He may as well have run into Eldreth's high wall.
The Nemesis swatted him into a tree with a single hammer. Before he could recover the Nemesis was on top of him, stomping against his shield. Hammers battered him, and he cursed trying to shove back.
A grunt, the Nemesis stumbled back. Al sliced at the bastard's knees, a tiny crack she could carve into. Blood ran down the Nemesis' right calf, though the towering brute growled.
Al dashed through the woods, the Nemesis stampeding like a bull.
Head ringing, he scrambled up. He ran fast as he could, trees buckling from wild swinging steel. Al screamed, diving out the way of trees slamming down. One fell atop the Nemesis, who heaved it off him with a single arm.
"Fuck!" He shouted, swinging his flail. "It's me you limp cock iron head!"
The Nemesis side stepped, but a spike grazed his breastplate open.
A small grin, he swung his flail back, then span it overhead. Fixed on one another, foe on foe, ironite against steel, there was no better place to be. Even if it meant seeing Peter again, he'd not had such a battle since the mountain.
It wasn't that he was afraid of Al dying.
He wanted it for himself.
The Nemesis charged first, diving beneath his flail. He let go, drawing his sword. Tucked behind his shield, he let the Nemesis hammer down. While backing away, he peeked out. His arm shattered, his shield was split, then he thrusted.
Between the Nemesis' breastplate, he drove iron through, just a few inches. The bastard's skin was thick as mail. While trying to pull his blade free, the Nemesis laughed.
Deep mutters, and nothing more, the Nemesis had little mind left.
It was as if every encounter they had, no matter how strong they got, one of them was going mad.
He let go of his sword, trying to grasp his own hammer, but the Nemesis slung him through the air. On his bone protruding arm he landed, cursing all the gods. Blood ran from his arm, the Nemesis closed in.
A hooded warrior rammed into the bastard, driving a massive sword through his breastplate.
Much faster than himself, the warrior thrusted like a viper. The Nemesis growled, pulling his much smaller sword free, a chest leaking blood.
Hammers swung, not a single one touching the warrior. A parry knocked the Nemeiss off balance, the bastard staggering with a bloody chest. He dragged himself up, unslinging his own hammer.
He took to the warrior's side, catching a glimpse of her.
It was Dany.
On her pivot foot, she spun, hammers swinging down between them. Though the Nemesis was his foe, the fucker was more interested in Dany. She shuffled in the mud like a dancer, darting in quick steps round the hammer flailing Nemesis. No matter how fast the hammers swung, she couldn't be touched, almost appearing bored.
He slammed his hammer into the Nemesis right calf.
The Nemesis wailed, collapsing to a knee. Then Dany drove her greatsword through the bastard's heart. The tip of her blade pierced the other side, and he saw it to be pure mithril.
She ripped out her sword, then he battered the Nemesis' skull in.
A few more bashes and he cursed, blood leaking from his mouth.
She stood eye to eye with him. Stern, almost cold, he believed she was about to skewer him next.
Instead, she sheathed her blade, a massive steel trimmed scabbard across her back, then extended her hand.
"I knew you'd come back," she said, speaking up against the rain.
"Aye, well," he said, shaking her hand as Al approached them.
"Dany?" Al asked, throwing her arms around her.
The two were silent, shivering in one another's arms.
Al wept, though Dany was still rigid, as if she were bored. She turned back to him, then punched him in the nose.
After stumbling around, he cursed, "Fuck was that for?"
Dany muttered, looking away, "Ya' took too long."
He and Al exchanged a look.
"Dany," Al said, puzzled as he was, "you can't just hit someone like it's a normal thing!"
Even through the rain, he could tell she was blushing.
"Sorry," she mumbled, rubbing her sword arm. "You're right, that was rude. I was just frustrated."
No matter how strong she'd gotten, she was still the awkward little dove who kept him company in the Burning Lands.
After helping recover his weapons, she led he and Al into Draynsville.
Palisades stood round the entire town, along with sharpened oak stakes facing out. Holy oil was splattered along the perimeter, Dany explained, every hour before sunset. Then at dusk the bells rang, townsfolk scattered to make for their homes, and the night watch commenced, any willing adventurers or fireborne soldiers.
"Rotations change every season," Dany said, leading them towards the inn, past a pair of cloaked paladin knights. "Nathan was here last spring, before heading back to the front lines."
"Nathan?" He asked, eyes widening. "The lad's alright? How's he holding up? And his lady, Larosa?"
Dany didn't reply, standing before the door to the inn.
"What about Arthur?" Al asked, tightening the bandages around his forearm. "And William?"
Dany sighed, "William's been on the battlefield for the last two years, almost three."
His stomach crawled. "Three years?!"
Al gasped. "That's impossible!"
They looked at one another.
There was no way to tell how much time passed in the swamp. He could've sworn it couldn't have been more than a number of months, much shorter than the time it took him when he first awakened. Then again, there was no telling how long he'd been fighting in the first place, as he often just predicted based on his first time noticing the change of seasons.
"That's why I punched you," Dany said, rainfall turning to drizzle. "We learned you weren't completely dead, but stripped of all your strength, your skills, maybe even some of your memories."
They shook their heads at that last part.
Dany removed her hood, revealing long dark shining hair. "I don't know what it's like out there, but, I guess I expected too much. We all did. We were about to retrieve you for ourselves but the vampyres started raiding at night, and, Hardok, dressed in fine Ironite patrolled the mountains. We couldn't muster anyone to help us even get close."
Both were exhausted, and his bone arm was throbbing more with every passing second.
Dany could tell, putting an arm around them both. "I'm glad you're back. We can talk more tomorrow."
She led them inside, where a familiar face greeted him.