Chapter 207: Airam and Hermione Join The Fight [5]

Airam swayed.

Hermione caught her before she could fall into the mud.

The last of the black runes faded from Airam’s fingers, leaving dark marks beneath the skin of her hands and wrists. Her breathing was slightly broken. The destructive witchcraft had taken more from her than she wanted anyone to see, and it took a lot from her to pull back from that urge.

Hermione held her upright.

"You are hurt," she whispered.

"I am standing."

"That is not an answer."

Airam did not reply.

Across the clearing, Hendrick pushed himself up from the mud.

Blood covered one side of his face. His armor had been cut open in several places, and he moved with the stiffness of someone whose body had been pushed far beyond its limits. Yet he was alive.

Rina lay a short distance away.

Her shoulder was badly injured, and the right side of her armor had cracked beneath the force of the earlier attacks. She breathed through clenched teeth as she turned her head toward the two fallen Valmorian soldiers.

Neither moved.

Their black armor had been pierced and broken by Hermione’s storm of stones and weapons. The grass around them was torn apart. A spear remained buried in the ground near one body, its shaft trembling faintly from the force of its impact.

Hendrick looked over the battlefield.

Then he turned toward the sisters.

His eyes moved across Airam’s pale face, Hermione’s bloodied hands, and Esther clinging to them both. For a moment, relief appeared in his expression.

Esther ran forward.

She reached Airam and Hermione first, throwing her arms around both sisters.

"You are alive!" She cried. "You are both alive! I was so scared!"

Airam placed one tired hand over Esther’s hair.

Hermione closed her eyes briefly and held her younger sister close.

Hendrick began walking toward them.

A faint smile appeared on his face.

He opened his mouth, perhaps to tell them that they had done well, perhaps to order them into the tent where they would be safer, perhaps simply to reassure Esther that the immediate danger had passed.

Then his expression changed.

His gaze moved beyond them.

Rina looked in the same direction.

Airam and Hermione followed.

Even Esther turned.

Across the clearing, near the broken remains of Ulrich’s crimson barrier, Ulrich faced ten Valmorian knights.

They were moving toward him.

The soldiers had formed a wide arc around him, black armor reflecting the flames of the burning tree and supply wagon. Their weapons were drawn. Several carried anti-magic swords. Others held heavy spears or broad-bladed weapons built for close combat.

Mana leaked from beneath their armor in dark, unstable trails. Their bodies moved with unnatural speed. Their steps were heavy enough to tear through the grass, yet they crossed the ground with the coordination of trained soldiers rather than beasts.

Ulrich stood alone before them.

His coat had been torn at the side. Blood ran from the wound beneath his ribs and darkened the fabric at his waist. His sword remained in his hand, crimson runes flickering around the blade. The reinforcement spell was weaker than before. The light appeared and vanished in uneven pulses, repeatedly broken by the black swords that had struck it during his duel with Valdris.

Valdris watched from behind his knights.

His face had healed, but his expression remained cold.

The commander had stepped away from the immediate battle. He did not need to move while ten serum-enhanced soldiers stood between him and Ulrich.

The first Valmorian knight rushed forward.

He crossed the distance in an instant.

Ulrich moved.

The enemy’s sword came down toward his shoulder. Ulrich stepped outside the strike and turned his blade, guiding the black weapon past him. He cut toward the knight’s neck.

The sword struck armor.

Crimson mana shattered against the black metal.

Ulrich’s blade scraped along the helmet and shoulder guard without leaving more than a shallow mark.

The Valmorian knight turned immediately.

His armored elbow came toward Ulrich’s face.

Ulrich leaned back.

The blow passed close enough for the edge of the helmet to graze his cheek. The knight followed with a kick aimed at Ulrich’s knee.

Ulrich jumped away.

A second knight came from the side.

A spear flashed toward his chest.

Ulrich twisted, letting the point pass beneath his arm. He caught the shaft against his sword and pushed it down, but a third soldier was already moving into range. The black blade aimed for his ribs.

Ulrich lowered himself.

The sword cut through the air above him.

He rolled across the wet grass and came up on one knee.

The ten knights closed around him.

Ulrich’s eyes moved quickly.

Armor.

That was the problem.

Valdris had worn a coat and lighter protection. Ulrich could aim for his wrist, his shoulder, his side, or the gap near his collar. The commander’s anti-magic blade had been dangerous, but Valdris himself remained vulnerable to a sword.

These soldiers were different.

Their black armor covered their bodies almost completely. Their helmets protected the face and neck. Their breastplates locked into their shoulder guards. Their gauntlets covered the wrists. Their greaves reached over their boots.

Ulrich could not defeat them by striking the armor.

His spells would not help much either.

A large elemental attack might injure them, but he had no time to build a spell powerful enough to overcome anti-magic armor while ten serum-enhanced soldiers rushed him. Any Formula Ring large enough to destroy their defenses would take too long to weave. The first knight would cut him down before the final rune entered its place.

He had to fight with his sword.

He had to find the gaps.

Ulrich watched the armor closely as the soldiers moved.

The narrow space beneath the helmet where it met the neck guard.

The joints behind the knees.

The inside of the elbow.

The seam beneath the arm.

The small opening at the waist when a soldier raised his sword too high.

The eye slits.

None of them were easy targets.

Each required a precise strike while avoiding several opponents at once.

The first knight attacked again.

Ulrich blocked.

Crimson light burst around his sword.

The reinforcement spell shattered, but Ulrich redirected the force and stepped inside the man’s reach. His blade rose toward the opening beneath the helmet.

The Valmorian knight pulled back in time.

Ulrich’s sword cut through the leather beneath the neck guard but did not go deep enough.

The soldier staggered away.

A spear came from Ulrich’s left.

He turned.

The point struck the ground where his chest had been. Ulrich stepped on the shaft, pinning it for half a second, and kicked the knight holding it in the knee.

The black armor absorbed most of the blow.

Still, the attack bent the soldier’s leg.

Ulrich tried to cut behind the knee.

A sword intercepted him from the right.

Clang!

The impact sent numbness through his hand.

Another knight came from behind.

Ulrich felt the shift in the air and dropped low. A black blade passed over his head. He drove his shoulder into the nearest knight’s stomach, but the armored body barely moved.

The serum made them too strong.

Ulrich pushed away before the knight could seize him.

He jumped backward.

A Formula Ring formed around his left hand.

A small one.

The ring carried a light spell, little more than a burst of concentrated brightness. Ulrich did not direct it toward the armor. He sent it toward the eye slits of the three closest helmets.

White light exploded before them.

The Valmorian soldiers reacted immediately, but not quickly enough.

Two lifted their arms over their faces. A third turned his head away, his vision blurred for a moment through the narrow opening in his helmet.

Ulrich used the moment.

Wind gathered beneath his feet.

He burst sideways.

His sword came down against the blinded knight’s wrist. The black gauntlet protected most of the arm, but Ulrich’s blade found the narrow gap between the glove and the lower edge of the sleeve.

He cut.

The knight’s hand opened.

His sword fell.

Ulrich caught the weapon before it reached the ground and drove the pommel into the soldier’s helmet. The knight staggered backward.

Ulrich did not try to finish him.

The other soldiers had already recovered.

Two rushed him at once.

Ulrich threw the captured sword toward one knight’s face. The weapon struck the helmet with a loud impact. The soldier’s head snapped back, but he remained standing.

The second knight swung for Ulrich’s chest.

Ulrich parried.

The black blade met his crimson reinforcement.

Red sparks flew.

Ulrich turned the strike away, but a third sword came immediately after it. He caught that blade too, shifting his guard and redirecting the force around his body.

The fourth attack struck.

He could not fully avoid it.

The blow hit his sword and drove him backward.

Ulrich slid through the mud, boots digging trenches in the grass before he lost balance completely. He was thrown into a tree hard enough to shake leaves from the branches.

Pain exploded across his back.

His injured side struck the trunk.

Blood ran more freely beneath his torn coat.

The nearest Valmorian knight rushed him.

Ulrich saw the sword coming.

He pushed off the tree.

The black blade cut into the trunk behind him.

Wood split open where Ulrich’s body had been a heartbeat earlier.

He landed to the side.

The knight pulled the weapon free.

Ulrich formed another small spell.

Wind struck the soldier’s helmet from the front, forcing his head back just enough to expose the narrow gap beneath the jaw guard.

Ulrich stepped in.

His crimson blade thrust upward.

The point entered.

The Valmorian knight froze.

The sword had gone through the opening beneath the helmet and into his throat.

Ulrich pulled the blade free.

The soldier fell backward.

One down.

Nine remained.

Ulrich did not have time to breathe.

A spear came toward his stomach.

He twisted.

The point cut through his coat and scraped along his side, adding another line of pain across his ribs. Ulrich grabbed the spear shaft with his left hand and pulled himself toward the attacker rather than away.

The soldier tried to draw the spear back.

Ulrich jumped.

He used the shaft as a brief point of support, planting one foot against it before launching himself upward. His body rose over the Valmorian knight’s shoulder.

The enemy reached up for him.

Ulrich caught the top of the helmet.

His fingers hooked beneath the back edge.

He pulled it, and the helmet came loose.

The soldier’s head was exposed for an instant.

Ulrich turned in the air.

His sword cut across the man’s neck.

The head fell forward with a large blood spatter.

The body remained upright for a moment, spear still held in both hands.

Then it collapsed.

Eight remained.

Ulrich landed badly.

The wound in his side pulled as he hit the ground. He staggered before regaining his stance.

A Valmorian knight swung at him from the right.

Ulrich dodged.

The blade passed across his side anyway.

This time it cut deeper.

Pain tore through him.

A chunk of blood and torn cloth fell into the grass. Ulrich groaned despite himself and pressed one hand briefly against the wound.

The other soldiers rushed.

Three moved at once.

Ulrich forced his mana through the air.

Small Formula Rings appeared around him.

A burst of light struck one helmet.

A sharp wind current drove mud and ash into another soldier’s eye slit.

A short force spell knocked loose a patch of ground beneath the third knight’s leading foot.

None of the spells harmed them directly.

None needed to.

The first soldier raised an arm to shield his eyes.

The second stumbled as mud filled the narrow opening of his helmet.

The third stepped badly on the broken ground.

Ulrich moved through the gaps.

His sword cut at the first knight’s inner elbow. The blade entered through the armor joint and drew blood, but another Valmorian sword forced him away before he could finish the strike.

He ducked beneath it.

A heavy boot came toward his chest.

Ulrich caught the kick on his forearm.

The impact sent him sliding backward again. His arm went numb. The next sword came for his neck.

Ulrich jumped.

He turned in the air, barely clearing the blade. His boots hit the ground near the stream. Water splashed around him as he landed.

The knights advanced.

They were not afraid.

Their dead companions lay behind them, but the serum had driven something fierce and relentless into their movements. They did not hesitate. They did not break formation. They tightened the circle around Ulrich, determined to overwhelm him through numbers.

Ulrich raised his sword.

Crimson runes formed again.

His breathing had become heavier. His wounds bled beneath his coat. His right hand shook from the repeated impacts, though he kept the blade steady.

The eight knights rushed forward.

Then dark red runes appeared around Ulrich.

They did not come from his hand.

They struck the ground around him.

The runes exploded.

A violent burst of pressure and earth tore through the space between Ulrich and the charging soldiers. Stones rose from the ground. Mud erupted. Crimson force struck the front line hard enough that the knights had to jump back or risk being caught within the blast.

Ulrich looked over his shoulder.

Airam stood near the tent with one hand raised.

Dark veins of witchcraft showed beneath her wrist, but her eyes remained fixed on the Valmorian knights.

Beside her, Hermione had raised both hands.

A new Formula Ring was forming before her.

Its rings turned slowly at first, gathering pale mana in the smoke-filled air.