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The seconds seemed to stretch forever. His heart drummed loudly in his chest. He would have grabbed the bow if it weren't unstrung and hidden among his luggage. As he was no longer in Greenflower, being caught with a bow would cause him to be labeled as a poacher; just another way for him to get killed.
Coming from a bend down on the dirt road, around a hundred meters in front of him, John got a look on the riders. Galloping, they were five in total. The two in the front, a man and a woman, were seemingly being chased by the other three. That could be good for John, who hoped they would keep going past him.
No such luck, however. One of the chasers hurled a spear forward, hitting the side of the man's horse. With a painful neigh, the animal fell forward. The rider fell down rolling on the ground, coming to a stop a few feet from John's own horse.
Seeing her companion fall, the woman jumped off her horse, drew a bluish longsword, and rushed to meet the incoming men.
They were all Fighters, but John still would prefer not to take part in the conflict. Unfortunately, the choice was made in his stead. "Kill the boy too and take his horse," barked one of the men while pointing at John.
With no other option, John drew the swords from his back and braced himself.
Different from his companions, the man coming for John chose not to dismount. Maybe he hoped to directly trample John, maybe he didn't want to bother getting down from his horse. Whatever his reasons, he'd soon learn why that was a bad idea.
As the horse quickly approached, John remained fixed in place until the last moment. Just as he was about to be trampled, he sidestepped to the left and slashed — not at the man, but at the horse.
The rippled steel blade showed why it was such an improvement when compared to regular steel. It cut clean through the horse's foreleg.
The animal fell forward, and it would've thrown the man to the ground if his leg didn't get caught at the stirrup. One missing a leg while the other's was crushed by the mount's weight, both man and horse agonized on the ground.
John felt somewhat bad for the animal, but that had been the safest way to deal with the enemy. He moved in and stabbed the man on the neck to finish the job, then he did the same to the horse to end its suffering.
Done with that, he turned towards the rest and was surprised to find the woman still standing. Not only that, but she also managed to go toe-to-toe with the two men, all the while still protecting her companion, who only now managed to stand up. Her sword became a bluish blur as it slashed left and right to keep the enemies at bay.
John wondered why they were running if she could fight that well. Surely they'd be able to stand against the three men with just the two of them. The beating of hooves against the ground answered his question; they weren't just three.
With more enemies incoming, they had to hurry and deal with the current ones. John rushed in to help the woman.
Noticing his approach, she blocked a slash from the right, kicked the man on the left, and attacked the man on the right, coinciding with John's own attack. He stabbed low, she slashed high, and the man died.
It didn't happen by chance, no doubt about that; she definitely planned it. John wished to know more about it, but they had to deal with the current problem first. After making short work of the last enemy, they all looked down the dirt road. Four more riders appeared, weapons drawn and held high to attack.
"Head to the trees," John immediately spoke. "They'll be forced to dismount." The duo nodded and followed him into the trees. "Let's form a line and wait for them." John pointed at the man, who seemed to be the weakest of them all. "You stay in the middle and we'll cover you."
To his surprise, they both disagreed.
"Stay in the back, Nevil," she told the man who promptly agreed as if already thinking the same thing.
"I do better with spells than with swords," he said and John had no choice but to trust him as they had no time to argue
John and the woman stood side by side, prepared to defend the spellcaster while he worked his spell. They stood at arm's length from one another; enough to cover for each other if needed, but not so much that they'd get in each other's way.
Ragtag and mismatched, the enemies dismounted and came to their encounter. They didn't so much have a leader as a bigger guy shouting curses. Wielding a large two-handed axe, he came towards John along with another man wielding a sword and a makeshift shield.
Needing to stay his ground and protect the spellcaster, John's usual strategy of moving around his opponent wouldn't cut.
The axeman arrived with a powerful but slow downward swing. Armed with two rippled steel swords, John could've tried to hit at the axe's shaft, but there was no guarantee that it wouldn't knock the sword out of his hand instead. So he opted for the safest choice and sidestepped.
The axe hit the ground with a loud thump, its edge disappearing on the ground.
John attempted a stab, but the man's companion arrived just in time, bashing John with the shield.
John was knocked a couple of steps back but managed to keep his balance.
Instead of pressing the attack, the shieldsman stood by the axeman, protecting him in case John decided to attack again. They seemed experienced at fighting together, and John doubted he'd easily find a gap in their defenses. But he didn't need to. All he needed to do was hold off long enough for the spell to complete.
The axeman yanked his weapon off the ground and once again advanced on John, this time sweeping left to right.
John ducked under it. Before he could try and slash at the man's legs, the shieldsman arrived once again, this time swinging down his sword. In too awkward a position to dodge, John put both swords up in an X. His arms budged somewhat from the impact, but they ultimately held strong.
Rather, it was the man's sword that took the worst of it, now sporting a deep dent on its edge. One more such attempt and his weapon would break off.
John disentangled their swords by swiping them to the side. He quickly stood up and prepared for the next swing of the axe when a voice shouted from behind him: "Move!"
John didn't think twice before jumping to the right, just in time to avoid a flaming jet aimed at the axeman.
Startled by the sudden spell, the axeman tried to defend himself with his weapon, and it worked as well as one would expect. The fire quickly spread to engulf his whole torso. His shrieks echoed through the forest and the smell of burning flesh spread out. He dropped the axe and then similarly dropped to the ground, rolling to try and put off the flames.
His companion moved in between him and John in hopes of protecting him. He slashed at John who, instead of blocking, this time slashed back with both swords.
Concluding what started when their blades first clashed, the man's sword broke in half. Caught off guard, he took a moment too long to retract his arm.
Not forgiving the mistake, John slashed, cutting deep into the man's forearm.
With a painful grunt, the man hid behind his shield. John reacted by unleashing a flurry of attacks against it. It didn't break through, but it did manage to put him on the back foot. From there, John dropped the sword on his left hand and grabbed the shield, pulling it down just enough to stab the man hiding behind it.
Completely off-balance, the man could do nothing to prevent John from hilting a sword in between his ribs. John yanked his weapon free and the man crumpled to the ground.
The axeman had long stopped moving, so now there were just two more left; John grabbed his other sword from the ground and rushed to finish them off.
The woman still held strong, albeit a bit worse for wear with a couple of cuts on her arms.
Nevil now held a knife in his hands. Although he didn't attack, his presence offered a constant distraction to the enemies, especially after his spell.
Noticing John's approach, the woman repeated the move from earlier. She slashed left, kicked the man on the right towards John, and focused her attacks on the man on the left.
On his own and off-balance, the man who got kicked had no chance to compete. A weak swing of the sword was all he managed before John buried a blade in his gut.