Rise Of Myth: Heir To Valor 57 Terror Of The Marshes

The approaching horde of drowned soldiers began to fan out, threatening to surround and flank Val as he wheezed. The acrid taste of blood, adding to the smell that already burned in his nostrils. The young swordsman gritted his teeth and did his best to breathe carefully. Val had no time to verify the extent of his injury, he felt sure his right lung had been hit, but for the moment it remained functional. 

The Draug appeared to favor broad blades, better for slashing than stabbing. His armor had, at the very least, kept him from sustaining too serious an injury. The p.a.w.n who stabbed him had only lucked out with the angle Val had exposed at the end of his swing. At the very least, its wider edge had gotten caught on flexible steel rods that ran the vertical length of the jerkin.

Ugh, I'll never hear the end of this from Valor... Val readied Tyrfing as the small army closed in. Deflecting strikes from a couple of eager Draug, he dispatched another one, cleaving diagonally into the p.a.w.n's torso from his neck. Val frowned as he quickly retreated a few steps, avoiding the followup from the other p.a.w.n. Tyrfing still bit through flesh and bone, but there was a resistance now like dragging the blade through thick mud, where before it was light like water.

Their brute leader issued some gurgling, guttural sounds, Val could tell they were orders, as the p.a.w.ns began to surround him with swords and axes covering for spears. While not smart enough to come up with basic formations, they were empty enough to dumbly follow orders without question.

The fiery lights in Val's eyes were beginning to dim, his mana was running low as he tried to ignore the growing hunger and thirst— only a couple of the numerous side effects. Exhaustion was wearing at his every sense and he had lost feeling in his arms a while ago. The memories of every death he had experienced in the dark depths of the brand held his mind. They drove his body to persevere and slay those that threatened his life. He knelt down, trying to rest his numb legs, he was too exhausted to go very far on his own. Mana exhaustion was taking effect at what felt like an exponential rate. 

The Draug were cautious, having suffered so many casualties to one man. They behaved like primitive hunters, finally wearing down a tiger, hungry for their prize, but wary of the cornered beast's final struggle.

So this is what Valor meant... The mist deprives the area of magic. Recovering my mana isn't easy here. It's no wonder my spells were so tiring— I'm paying their entire price myself.

The sound of automatic rifle fire nearby helped to stave off his fatigue, as Val afforded a quick glance in the direction.

Muninn appeared in the sky, worry and almost panic in her tone as she saw the situation. "Alevriasha found the survivors! She and Kainoa are securing them now, just hold on a little longer, retreat towards the gunfire!"

"Go, I'll be right behind you!" Val called out with great effort, though Muninn held little faith in his words, seeing him on the ground and surrounded. The raven quickly flew off toward the others, to urge them to hurry and send support.

The brute leader seemed alarmed, staring off in the direction of the noise. After what looked like a moment of consideration, he returned his attention to Val.

"Good... Eyes on me you chicken-legged f.u.c.k." Val wheezed as he struggled to stand, a ring of Draug all around him. Val sheathed his sword, before drawing Harken's Fangs— the self-named daggers gifted to him by the lord of the Black Dogs. With the numerous weapons held toward him, he would more likely find his sword caught in the teeth-like formation.

Just a bit longer, my friends will be free, even if I go down here.  Val gripped the daggers, having practiced only a little with them. He was comfortable enough to wield them both without tripping over himself. Using his left to parry an axe, he claimed a hand at the wrist with his right. Harken had not lied, the blades had been frightfully well taken care of. Val sliced through the Draugr's exposed flesh and bone with hardly more effort than Tyrfing required.

Val fought defensively, whirling and weaving as he crippled and lacerated the Draug soldiers. He could not afford to get close enough for a killing blow. Either the spears in the front held him at bay, or an opportunistic strike would come from behind.

Blood filled the street as he fought, his body was numb all over, but the numbness slowly started to feel different. It was less and less the numbness of exhaustion, and more and more like the pain suppressing effects of adrenaline. Power seemed to be returning to his strikes, as he shattered a Draug sword in a scissoring motion. Concern grew in Val's mind, it was as if his body was issuing one last burst of energy before finally collapsing, but he had bought at most, an extra five minutes so far.

Go... Tear these seborn wretches apart... Return them to the abyss... They who stalk these marshes know not its terror.  A deep, rumbling voice sounded in his mind.

The h.e.l.l? Valor?  The voice did not sound like Valor, and it did not respond. Instead, his brand surged with magic, flaring brightly. Fire returned to his eyes and his senses sharpened beyond what he was used to. The strong stench of blood a.s.saulted his nose anew, mixed with the briny and sulfury smell of the Draug. Blood flowed from his wound in one last spurt as it sealed up, his muscles straining against his clothes as his veins bulged against his skin. Val's heart pounded so hard and fast that he suspected he was having a heart attack.

Val felt power like what he had felt the night before when Muninn overloaded his brand. Only this time, it felt as if it were coming from within. He had a burning desire to exercise this new strength. Val shouted, and it turned into a roar, startling some of the Draug. He charged at the thinning point of the encirclement, batting aside their weapons as he tore into them with his daggers. There was no finesse in his strikes, no attention to clean, killing blows. Val felt he could almost sense where to strike to efficiently deal damage, regardless of lethality.

Val mindlessly slaughtered his way through ten Draugr before they retreated. Dead, disemboweled, or permanently crippled Draug littered the area. Despite being covered head-to-toe in blood, Val did not mind it, he was br.i.m.m.i.n.g with power. A strange disappointment crept over him as the drowned soldiers' numbers were thinning. Not even a dozen remained, as he approached the now huddled group, even the gargantuan brute took a step back, bringing a wide grin to Val's face.

"How about we get rid of the small-fry?" Val took both daggers in a hand as he lifted the other. Before the Draug could react, a ma.s.sive boulder of fire roared from Val's hand, engulfing the densely packed p.a.w.ns. More than half of them were immediately consumed by the flames, the remaining five or six scattered or fell over. The flames seemed alive, quickly spreading and eating them alive.

In seconds, only Val and the Draugr brute stood in the street. Val saw the monster's eyes shift down the steep road. Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click for visiting.

Val chuckled, drunk on the power surging in his veins and the frenzy of battle. "Try it, the second you turn down that road, I'll take your legs. I wonder... If you're nearly a third crab, what will happen when I break open that sh.e.l.l? Is your flesh cold and tough under that sh.e.l.l, or is it soft and juicy?"

The brute's expression turned ugly, as he issued a deafening roar in anger. Val figured even if he could not understand the way they were speaking, he was speaking plainly enough with magic, easily understood by the monstrous figure.

The Draugr brute moved first, charging as he swung his enormous claw. Val lunged forward, his body low to the ground as the claw pa.s.sed dangerously close to his head. The brute panicked and tried to grab at him with his humanoid hand, but Val twisted his body sharply and took half of the enormous hand with his daggers. The brute howled in pain, though Val did not pause. 

The mental image of Asha when she moved like the wind and efficiently disabled the wendigo by severing tendons and ligaments had guided his limited practice. Val slashed the back of the brute's knee with his left hand, spilling blood and exposing flesh but not entirely disabling the trunk-like leg. In the next instant. He followed up with his right, thrusting the dagger into the wound all the way up to the guard. The dagger followed the curve along its blade as its tip protruded out the side of the brute's knee. The leg gave out as the monster buckled under its own weight, falling to a knee. 

"Whatever your masters did to hulk you out like this, they really shafted you with this glaring weakness. Look at yourself, you can't even reach behind to scratch your back if you wanted to." Val smirked, as the brute roared and began to recklessly hammer at his knee in a grotesquely comical manner, trying to dislodge the blade. His claw was not dextrous enough to grab either the protruding end of the handle or its grip. With only a thumb remaining on his other, he could do nothing about the crippling blade lodged in his knee.

The brute was now stationary, but no less dangerous. The reversal of the situation caused Val to chuckle slightly. Despite differing circ.u.mstances, the monstrous figure was now the cornered beast, and Val now the one with smug satisfaction on his face. Val was in no rush for time, sheathing his remaining dagger, he picked up various weapons of the fallen soldiers and began to throw them with great force. All the brute could do at the distance of five or so meters, was bellow and roar in anger as Val battered him with the weapons of his soldiers. Val noted with some annoyance that the sh.e.l.led exterior of his upper body and right arm seemed as hard as steel. Whatever Draug weaponry was made of, it hardly scratched the surface of the brute's chitinous armor. The brute used this armor to great effect, shielding his unarmored flesh, including his good leg that Val was beginning to aim exclusively for.

"Val!" The sound of Kainoa's voice and numerous approaching boots caught Val's attention as he slightly turned his head to glance behind him. The second's lapse of attention was all the brute needed as he recklessly launched himself just far enough to take a giant swing. Val reflexively brought his arm up to defend himself from the enormous claw. He heard a crunching sound as he was lifted off his feet, the world spinning as he was sent tumbling a distance away.

"VAL! Safety off! Fire!" Kainoa and seven other men and women in combat fatigues opened fire on the brute. The bullets left deep scratches on the sh.e.l.l armor but did not penetrate. The brute was on his stomach, shielding his head with his ma.s.sive claw.

"Stop! You're wasting ammo, you'll need a larger caliber to get through his armor." Val called out, sc.r.a.pes on his face healing before everyone's eyes. Kainoa flinched, other's almost set their rifles on him, seeing the gore-covered figure cast his fiery gaze towards them.

"Val... Your arm..." Kainoa started, as Val looked to his left arm, the bracer extending along his forearm did little to protect against the sheer blunt force. His arm was bleeding and looked as if it had another joint. Val could hardly feel it under the effects of whatever magic the brand was fueling him with. He took the arm and set it straight. In a moment the bones began to reattach and he tested his wrist and fingers successfully.

"It's fine, and that one is mine." Val drew Tyrfing and poured mana into it, the runes ignited brightly and looked to have taken on a shade of red. Before the brute could get up, Val closed the distance and amputated the humanoid left arm at the elbow. Flames ignited on the stump as the brute collapsed back to the ground, badly charring his flesh as the fire crept up his arm. 

"Now then, man, or crab?" Val grinned as he stood atop the brute's back. Using all of his strength, he thrust Tyrfing down into the brute's sh.e.l.led back, piercing and cracking the thick sh.e.l.l. Val held the sword as it remained buried in the Draug flesh, pouring his mana freely into Tyrfing. Blood and steam seeped from the cracks as the sword burned inside the brute. For what felt like several minutes, bellowing roars that began to sound like gurgling screams filled the night until finally, the brute stopped moving. His body continued to char around the wound as Val withdrew his sword.