Pluto felt vertigo flood his senses, pressure squeezing on him as space transitioned into a void. In the same instant, he was back in the embrace of mist. Unlike the first jump that had taken them just a few metres ahead, this one had transported them to a completely different region of the forest. It wasn't miles from the previous one, but far enough to enjoy the momentary respite Saul had bought with his spirit.
They landed in a depression, a basin carved out by erosion quarter-filled with a stagnant water thicker than any before. Insects that had gotten in contact with it were held down, some dead, some still struggling in futility. Pluto stumbled as they materialised, his running steps hooking in the murk and sending a few bitter drops up his mouth.
"Cahhh..aha, cah, kru.."
He spat out, hoping not even a single microbe would make it through. He looked at Saul, and then himself. He could not tell the difference; both breathless, desperate and stained with something that wasn't just mud.
The eel coiled around his arm tightly, letting him know that predators were approaching. A primal urge almost forced him up to keep running, but he knew that was a fool's errand. No matter what they did, the predators would catch up.
"How many more times can you use your teleportation ability?" Pluto asked with a dull voice.
"One, maybe two more," Saul replied.
Pluto turned back to the heat world, watching the inevitable draw nearer. "Can't you make it three?"
Saul gulped, tightening his jaw loosely. "Unlikely...but I can try."
Pluto pushed himself up with swollen muscles. "The pack is separated. Some are in close vicinity with the tiger, some are too big to be fast, and some are falling behind the madder fanatics. This is one blade. We engage, and when the bodies pile up, we move again. We can dictate how much we fight."
Saul smiled dryly. "...very inspiring, Pluto."
Pluto wasn't sure what that meant, but he would take it plain for words. Saul reached into his weaved strap bag and gave Pluto another primitive dagger similar to what he had thrown. He then crouched down, touching the water with his finger.
"Here's the plan," he started. "Your mark makes the predators to lose their instinctual senses. With their agitation, they'll lunge down the moment they see you. When they hit the muck, the thickness with drag on them. It's not enough to trap, but can disorient for a spilt second. In that window, we strike. No room for slack off."
***
The first wave arrived in jubilation and high pitched shrieks. These were scouts– lean, emaciated, leathery creatures with long, slick claws. As Saul had predicted, they jumped from the rim of the basin with murderous intent.
The moment they landed with a viscous splash, their momentum stepped on the brakes. Pluto lunged for the nearest one with a shaking blade. He aimed for the neck, but exhaustion had other plans. His strike went wide, tearing into the shoulder instead. It stung, but the predator was unharmed. It snapped at Pluto's throat, Saul catching it inches before it got there.
His other hand shot across, severing its head off its body. "Don't let the advantage slow you down too, focus Pluto!"
Pluto gritted and straightened himself again. Another predator landed nearby, struggling to pull its flat legs out of the mire. This time Pluto did not rush, he simply waited for the precise moment it pulled itself free, its weight toppling it in his direction. He only had to step forward once, so the drag did not affect his swing. His blade penetrated the jaw. He followed up quickly, killing it before it spat out the mouthful of bitter water.
More predators poured in, turning the tables a bit. Not enough to start pushing the humans back, but enough to demand greater fighting excellence. In that aspect, Saul was a professional. Like a fluid dancer, he sawed them down, leveraging on their madness. It did get a little clumsy when a predator managed to find its footing, but so far, it was handleable.
On the contrary to Saul's hold on the battle, Pluto struggled quite a bit. His lack of formal or informal training made it quite difficult for him to exploit the split-second windows of disorientation. Once every while, Saul would have to step in to prevent something from cleaving one of his limbs off. Yet, with every kill he managed to scrape by, Pluto felt his focus strengthen even as his body did otherwise. He began to tailor his moves according to anticipation; when the beasts would break from the murks' glue and the way certain movements lagged against waves of water.
But as the crowd grew, the water's thickness was no longer enough to hold them back. Too many disturbances shook it took much to grip, some even used the bodies of their fallen as pads to stay unhindered.
"Now!" Saul shouted and grabbed Pluto by the arm, folding the world again.
The nauseous feeling tinged softly through him. They were standing among the dense assembly of trees. Branches grew onto the trunks of other trees, making the environment look like a spider web of wood.
"A natural barricade, they'll have to break through the trees to get to us," muttered Saul. The ruthless flow of battle had started to hit him in sensitive places now. He looked at Pluto, feeling a bit of something rather not said when he looked at the fresh wounds on the younger man's body. "You alright?"
Pluto grimaced but nodded still. He didn't have time to answer before the forest began to rattle. The predators arrived faster this time, almost as if teleporting too. They crashed into the trees, bruising and breaking their bodies without a care. With the amount of creatures craving to take a bite out of Pluto's neck, it was not unsurprising that they quickly created a bottleneck.
Saul and Pluto took full advantage of the congestion. With movements grinded, they didn't have to worry about a fractional window of attack time. Saul moved with chunky grace, his blade finding gaps between the predators' chitin except when his hand trembled. Pluto used the gradients of branches as shields, slipping behind them to avoid direct confrontations. When predator tried to slip through, Pluto met its head with a heavy downwards chop, cramped space preventing the beast from doing anything other than squealing when its viny flesh spilt open.
The battle was feverish and claustrophobic. The predators weren't willing to get in a line and attack in an orderly file, so they bumped against each other in a bid to get ahead. While that sounded like a good thing for the humans, it also meant their space was running out as the living plowers tore it down. They almost had to constantly watched for falling trees. Pluto used the environment as a weapon, while Saul used himself. He monkeyed around the trees, pivoting and balancing himself in-between them as he fought for unnatural angles. However, as time brought the greater monsters to the party, the barricade started to fail.
"Again!" Saul roared pale. He grabbed Pluto and teleported again. This was the last he had hoped for, but the predators had already made him realise it wasn't going to be possible.
They appeared in a world of white. A thick, palable mist clung to everything, essentially blinding them both. At arm's length they could see, but farther, mist regained supreme. All advantages and tactics were useless here. Saul gritted his teeth. In this silence and fog, the grounds were even in no one's favour and the hunt was far from over.