Pat's sword came down hard, with power fueled by his massive body. Enyah blocked his blow, yet even with her increased strength, he plowed through her, forcing her to step back.

  Prim expressionlessly came from the side, her stride low and bladed limbs aimed with a deep hunger towards Enyah’s chest.

  Enyah stepped backwards with laborious breaths, dodging the blow with disoriented steps. The rust-like tang of her own blood filled her senses as she sent droplets to the ground with each move she made.

  “We're coming!” Rinne yelled, Zarts barreling through their combat with a determined chirp towards Pat, engaging him in a contest of strength.

  Opposing them, Manuel finally regained himself, tearing his gaze from the bright moon. His face appeared ghastly under its crimson gaze.

  “What are you doing?” His voice turned sharp, gazing at the four mercenaries who meandered at the side. He ignored the crowd of angry villagers, who were banging against a wall he placed between them. “Get the child!”

  “I don't know, Mayor.” The tanned man frowned. “Just doesn't sit right with me.”

  “I'll pay you all double. No. Triple! If you get! That! Child!” Manuel roared, his calm facade faded into a haunting grimace.

  “Hmm.” He frowned in thought for a moment before agreeing, “Alright. Triple.”

  The man turned and began running, turning to a sprint before he launched himself towards Zarts, his hand pulled back into a fist.

  Zarts was too focused on swiping Pat with his claws while biting at him with his toothy snout that the man’s fist slammed into the side of his torso.

  The lizard reeled in response, his feathers flaring outwards and a harsh, grating squawk sounding from his mouth.

  “Are you alright, Zarts?” Rinne called from the saddle above, his face marred with wide eyed panic. He struggled at the reins in an attempt to control the lizard, yet it was clear to Enyah that he’s never tried to ride any form of steed before now.

  Letting out a grumble, the grintliss charged towards the tanned man, losing interest in playing with Pat.

  “I ain’t done with you, beast. I’ll hang your skin on my wall!” Pat roared, following Zarts from behind.

  Enyah turned her head in fury, giving Prim a kick in the chest and rushing after Pat, her eyes a raging, intense purple, courtesy of the Mist pumping throughout her body.

  She reloaded her pistol and aimed it for his back, yet the man paused his sprint and blocked the bullet with ease, his sword bearing no scratch from the lead.

  “Fine! If you desire death so much, I'll grant your wish!”

  Pat's face contorted into a mask of fury, his head reddening with anger as throbbing Veins lined his body. He looked inhuman, yet hadn't a speck of mist in his system.

  Whatever fueled him, changing his body through rage, was natural, yet looked unnatural at the same time.

  “Hrraaagh!!!” He swiped with his sword, at a greater speed and greater strength, creating a thin line on the dirt from his missed strike.

  “Can't trust my eyes anymore.” Enyah frowned. His sword moved too fast for her to follow. Only the mist remained to block his movements. She felt a need rising up. A whisper of temptation, as if the mist itself beckoned herself into its embrace.

  “Don't daydream! Are you looking down on me!” The man spat, swiping again and again, hitting only air. “Are you a mouse? A lixsis hiding in the trees? Or a mercenary! You make us look weak!”

  “And you make us look like barbarians.” She responded gently, closing her eyes. Darkness pervaded her vision as she let go of her senses. Only a deep, rich purple remained.

  “Rather a barbarian than a rat.” He growled, continuing his frenzied swiping.

  A slash to the side, duck below, aim a blow for his leg. He blocked the strike with his sword before turning in an attempt to separate her head from her body. Move to the side, swipe towards his leg from behind. Hit. Step back. Dodge his sword. Roll right, dodge Prim's bladed limbs. Strike back. Block and strike.

  Their three person dance continued while Manuel turned to the other mercenaries, his motions sharp and his expression grave. “And you three? Where’s your spine?”

  “It’s not my spine.” The quiet, hooded figure spoke. He sheathed his knives, losing his will to fight. “I knew something wasn’t right with this request. You’re one of the crazies. I’d never work for one of you.”

  “Call me crazy. Fine. But there's nothing wrong with believing in something.” Manual growled, turning away from the man who moved into the shadows, blending out of sight. “Two left. Fight or run.”

  “There is no honor in this fight, but…” the Glain muttered, almost as if speaking to himself, “I need this money. Fine. Triple.”

  He turned to the Feral, whose battle tempered state turned back into a sane, yet unkempt furred human being. “What do you say, friend?”

  The feral, with inquisitive eyes, scanned the angered crowd, Manuel, Enyah, and finally Zarts, who carried the boy on his back. “Prey not worth it. Tastier prey elsewhere.”

  “Very well. I will see you elsewhere, my friend!” Glain patted his chest with a gloved hand, before turning and sprinting towards Zarts, his axe extended. Behind him, the feral turned, giving the mayor a pronounced snort, and then bounded off on four limbs, his direction unknown.

  Enyah, hearing the conversation from her position, frowned, feeling unease rise up. Zarts might be able to fend the pair for a while, but not forever. She tightened her fist, in some faint effort to increase the usage of the mist, yet their dance of steel continued.

  Prim came from the side, her scythed hands curving around Enyah in an attempt to cut her from both sides. Feeling the pings tingling along her skin, Enyah came to a split second decision. She grit her teeth and charged forwards, letting the scythed blades leave deep lines of blood along her arms.

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  She felt pings from behind. Of the blades closing in, yet she ignored it, ramming her body into Prim and sending them tumbling to the ground.

  Before Prim could orient herself, Enyah’s grip tightened around her cutlass and she jabbed in front of her, her blade piercing skin and carving a hole into the woman’s chest.

  She felt the pings behind her disappear as the woman's movements became feeble. Her eyes, as dark as the space between worlds, seemed to only darken and her face, as expressionless as she first caught sight of her, saw no change.

  Enyah couldn't stare at the woman anymore, as Pat ran up, sparing no glance at the dying woman and swinging his massive sword towards Enyah. She brought her sword up, the pain in her arms causing her to tighten in response, her sword faltering slightly.

  He easily spotted her weakness, exploiting it to block her sword with ease, sending his sword towards her chest.

  She strained her legs, moving her sword around towards his arm and stepping to the side, barely dodging his massive strike that continued Forwards and into the woman, her shallow breaths stopping from the cut of his blade. Still, his sword grazed her shoulder, leaving a small cut through her clothes.

  The man gave a small, imperceptible frown, then turned and continued his assault, swiping forwards again, forcing Enyah further and further back, her steps uneven and bloodsoaked.

  “What’s wrong, coward? You can’t dodge forever!” He growled.

  “Sure can.” Enyah responded casually, but she couldn't hide the tension that lined her voice, nor the exhausted breaths that slowed her speech.

  “We'll see.” Pat muttered, his face forming a vicious sneered, “Will you scream when I tear your leg off?”

  He forced himself forwards, his large, heavy sword pushing Enyah away with each blow. Her cutlass taking blow after blow while her hands pushed back from the damage, a glaring pain only growing with each blow blocked.

  However, Enyah wasn’t the only one who’s been injured in this fight. Pat’s leg, which slowly bled out copious amounts of blood, missed a step, growing weak from the earlier wound. A weak step, a sword overshot and the man was exposed.

  With a lunge built through a last burst of energy, she shot forth, dashing below his sword and cleaving his arm off. Before the man could scream, she continued her swipe, coating the blade in blood while a headless body plopped to the ground.

  Time seemed to still to Enyah. The only noise entering her ears was her own labored breathing. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth and the world seemed to turn around her. She fell to the ground, massaging her temple with an injured hand.

  “I'm going to need a long rest after this.” Enyah murmured to herself with a sigh, spitting a mouthful of blood from her mouth in the process.

  Her whole body ached. scars laced her arms in spades, her legs felt like they weighed tons, and numerous holes lined her body, where blood sprouted within.

  She turned her head to Zarts, whose fight continued with a fierce and chaotic intensity.

  Zarts didn't look too injured from her position. His tough scales seemed to have blocked most of the attacks, and his face bursted with only a feral enthusiasm. His claws swiped with killing intent and his snout opened and closed, attempting to bite the bear-like man who threatened him with his axe. Glain swiped from side to side, his axe glancing off the scales, but it wouldn't last until one of his blows struck true. Though, the man didn't seem to care when that happened, charging forward with his axe by his side and a grin on his face as if it were a game more than a mission.

  Beside him, with his whip-like tail, he struck towards the metallic man, keeping the attacker at bay. Though the man would rage and plant his sturdy fist along the lizard's skin, Zarts would remain unharmed, his scaled body protecting him from any lasting harm.

  From atop, Rinne held the knife with both hands, waving it threatening through the air in some vain attempt to scare the hardened mercenaries away. His face grim and determined, yet his hands hesitated to swing, his knife aiming near, but not directly at, his foes.

  She turned to Manuel, who turned back towards the citizens, whose fervored charges were blocked by the invisible wall.

  “My citizens, what's wrong with having faith?” He placated them, his mask reappearing on his face and a gentle smile replacing his previous look. “Earlier, I was just incensed to dispose of the threat to our town. I apologize for worrying you.”

  “It's alright, Mr Mayor!” A voice called from the crowd. “I get mad too when Ryan steals my furniture.”

  “You give them to me to repair them, you buffoon! You're just too drunk to remember!” Someone responded angrily.

  “Oh.” The first voice piped down.

  “Were you playing with our minds, mayor?” Another voice called.

  “No, I was just… That's just your natural inclination.” He replied, attempting to explain himself.

  The man was busy, Enyah nodded, satisfied. Only the two mercenaries remained threats. With careful, pained actions that made her arm tremble, she reloaded her flintlock, aiming towards the bear-like man. She bit her lip, attempting to steady her shaking arm.

  “You're a beautiful beast! A tough fighter!” The man laughed boisterously, swinging his axe forwards. The axe cut through a scaled shoulder, drawing a small gash of blood from the lizard.

  Zarts hissed in response, his feathers flaring around his head and his long neck recoiling before darting forwards in a burst of force, attempting to bite the man who injured him. His teeth closed on one of his arms, tightening and digging his teeth deep within the man’s burly arm.

  “A contest of strength, then!” His grin grew, while he flexed his arm against the teeth of the lizard.

  Zarts, seeming to notice his competitiveness, pushed forwards with his weight, forcing his jaw to shut around the arm. The man punching from the side was forgotten, left to punch scales uselessly. With his grin withstanding, the man released his axe and used his other arm to pry at the teeth that stuck to his arm, battling it out with the beast’s closing mouth. Zarts growled with his closed teeth, the noise coming out as a whining hiss.

  Their contest lasted for a short while, both sides struggling and groaning, though with both arms pushing with the utmost strength, Zarts’ jaw started to lose its fight.

  “You were a worthy foe, beast. I will wear your scales with pride.” Glain spoke, widening the lizard's jaw even further, to the point of splitting the jaw apart.

  “Zarts!” Rinne called from above in worry, his knife reaching forwards in a failed attempt to reach the man. “Are you alright?”

  Zarts hisses turned into chirps of pain. His small arms scraped against the man's torso and his huge body thundered forwards, but was blocked by the man's bulky body. His tail swiped back and forth, drawing licks of blood that remained ignored.

  Hearing his whines, Enyah fired without hesitation, her weakened arm pushed back from the force of the shot. Her shot landed on his chest, sending him back with a grunt of pain, his arms letting go of Zarts.

  His hand moved to the bleeding hole, letting out a few deep breaths before he dropped to the ground.

  “To die taking a shot to the chest…” He murmured out, looking down at his bloodied wound, that spilled blood in pools. “Could I count that as honorable?”

  “No.” Enyah responded from her slouched spot. “You tried to sacrifice a child. You're dying a criminal.”

  “Oh…” Glain mumbled, his voice fading as fast as his life, the dirt soaking up his blood below him. “Couldn’t… Help it… needed the money…”

  “Needed it enough to go after the kid?” Enyah asked with a frown.

  “Yes…For…Sleep…Love…” His voice slurred into four words before eventually slowing to a stop.

  Enyah stared at his body for A few moments, her thoughts hidden. After, she turned towards the tanned man, who began a fierce combat with Zarts, who, having lost his prey, turned to target the mosquito hitting his side.

  Rinne was quiet as well, frowning in thought after seeing the death of Glain. Maybe seeing the man as no threat, he pushed away the knife.

  “You're the last one left.” Enyah said, but he Ignored her, or didn't listen, prefering to continue his fierce combat with Zarts.

  “You've finally noticed me!” The man said with furrowed brows and an angered frown, “Did you think I wasn't worth your time? I showed you!”

  “He isn't very aware, is he?” Enyah raised an eyebrow at the man before shrugging. Let Zarts have some fun to blow off steam. She turned back towards the mayor's situation, who still placated the villagers. He seemed unaware of the conflict behind him. Confidence? Enyah wasn't sure.

  “Guys!” Walt called to the other townspeople. He was a few steps away, stepping towards the mayor. “There's no walls here!”

  “Good going, Walt!” A townsfolk called in response, and the horde plowed around the wall.

  “My citizens, please control yourselves!” He started talking, before he paused suddenly and his tone deepened into an inhuman, gravelly voice. “No. It doesn't matter. My work here is done. Lost lambs who bite back do not deserve to be led and protected.”

  “You will fall into the depths of despair, never to see the perfect, painless world.” He snorted at the citizens, Before turning to Enyah, who narrowed her eyes at him and reloaded her pistol. “And you. We will remember you. You will never be safe from us. Hahahahahahaha!” With a final laugh, he seemed to fold inwards, his body disappearing into only a sack of clothes.

  “Wooooah! That was so cool!” Rinne called out in amazement atop Zarts. “He's like those Mist Jesters!”

  “Mist Jesters?” Enyah muttered the unfamiliar words aloud, before shaking the thoughts away. Only exhaustion plagued her mind. Other thoughts could be saved for later. Her eyes blurred, sleep intruding on her brain in a forceful barrage.

  Still, one man remained. Sure, he was inoffensive and Zarts toyed with him like a child, he was, after all, an experienced mercenary. And when he noticed Enyah on the floor and bleeding to the side, he shrugged off Zarts and trudged towards her.

  “What have we here? A smart mouth girl who thinks she’s one of us? Looks like the others roughed you up. More pay for me.” He gave her a grin she couldn’t see, her eyes fully closed. “Let’s see what to do with–” His words were interrupted by Zarts headbutting him in the back, sending him face first onto the dirt below.

  The man's hardened skull remained in the lizards mouth as he shook it around, dragging the body below with every movement. Zarts chirped in joy, dragging the limp body while the man screamed and raged from within his mouth, his obscenity muffled.

  “Miss Enyah? Are you alright?” Rinne called from atop Zarts, sliding off the saddle and running up to the woman, who lay on the dirt, gently breathing with sleep.

  “Just asleep…” He let out a sigh of relief before a grin grew on his face, “I guess if she's asleep she won't get to tell me what to do.”

  Letting out a giggle, he walked away from her, back to Zarts.