Chapter 20: A Fight for Survival (1)

The silence didn’t stretch for long; soon the violet eyes stopped hovering and began to close in.

The first to step into the dim light of the closed alley wasn’t a wolf. It was something that might have once been a hound, but the spatial void had stretched its body into a nightmare. Its front legs were entirely too long, and its jaw split open vertically, dripping with a black-like substance.

Arthur didn’t step back; he knew that their survival depended entirely on him buying enough time for Aria to replenish her mana.

He stepped forward, putting himself between the beast and Aria. He closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, finding that warm, spinning engine in his chest. He couldn’t afford to shoot a blast of pure energy like he did with the wolf—the recoil would knock him out immediately.

Instead, he tried pushing the blue mana down his arm and into the wood of his cane, attempting to reinforce its structure to use it as a weapon. The charred stick hummed, coated in a faint, razor-thin film of blue light.

It worked! Arthur noted with a surge of relief. He diverted another thin stream of mana down to his right leg, dulling the pain as much as possible.

The distorted hound shrieked and lunged, a flurry of snapping jaws and jagged claws.

Arthur didn’t try to block it. He didn’t know swordsmanship or martial arts, but he knew physics, leverage, and centers of gravity.

He stepped inside the beast’s guard, pivoting on his strong leg. As the hound sailed past him, Arthur swung his mana-reinforced cane down with brutal efficiency, aiming directly for the creature’s elongated knee joint.

CRACK. The sound of shattering bone echoed in the small alley.

The hound collapsed, its momentum sending it crashing face-first into the stone wall. Before it could recover, Arthur brought the heavy, charred tip of his cane down on the back of its neck. He kept hitting until the beast twitched and went still. The sight was gruesome; black matter splattered across the stone, radiating a foul-smelling mist.

Behind him, Aria watched with wide, crimson eyes.

“What…what kind of swordsmanship is that?” She gasped, fighting the urge to vomit at the gruesome display. “Your mana feels so pure, but you fight like a street brawler.”

“Calling it swordsmanship would be a stretch.” Arthur gave a wry laugh. “I am just trying to aim for the hinges—I mean the weak points.”

Three more beasts charged.

The narrow entrance of the rocky alley was their only advantage; the monsters couldn’t surround them. They had to come at them one or two at a time.

Arthur swung, ducked, and struck. He shattered a collarbone here and crushed a joint there. He desperately fought with cold, mathematical precision, letting the beasts’ own momentum work against them. But it was taking a toll on him; every swing drained a fraction of his stamina. His lungs burned, and the dull ache in his right leg was turning into a sharp, stabbing pain.

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Then it happened; the ground trembled.

The smaller beasts immediately scattered, whining and backing away into the shadows.

A massive silhouette stepped forward. It was a Void Bear. It stood nearly nine feet tall on its back legs, its body armored in thick, jagged plates of corrupted wood and bone.

Arthur’s heart sank. He knew immediately that his cane would snap in half if he hit that armor.

“Oliver,” Aria whispered, her voice trembling. “Your stick won’t work on that; its hide is too thick.”

“I know,” Arthur muttered, backing slowly until his heels touched the back wall of the enclosed alley. “Did you regain your mana back?” He asked, a visible edge of desperation in his voice.

“I… I cannot cast any intermediate-level spell that could pierce that armor,” Aria stammered. “I can only cast low-grade spells for now.”

Arthur sighed internally. The situation was rapidly turning against them.

As he pressed against the stone, a pungent, rotten-egg smell hit his nose.