The smile on The Butcher became even more brutal.
He shook his head slowly, the way one might at a child who refused to learn.
"Man, I thought we just learned something, but look at that? Still thinking in the same way."
He gestured with his bone blade.
"A good Chieftain would choose to protect the vast majority while giving away barely a dozen, but you..."
He clicked his tongue.
"Ah, you are no good. Friend, what do you thin-"
...!
The Butcher turned toward Uncle Adam.
But Uncle Adam, at this moment, already knew that diplomacy was but a fantasy.
His spear moved like a snake striking from tall grass, aimed to take the head of The Butcher before the words had even finished leaving his mouth. The tendrils of Mana around his body churned and buzzed with force, the power of a lifetime of warfare compressed into a single devastating thrust.
When diplomacy failed, and fighting was the only path, one had to move and fight with conviction.
Because the end result would either be life... or an endless darkness.
So Uncle Adam moved decisively.
The Butcher’s eyes pulsed with lividity.
His power erupted.
The muscles across his body enlarged and hardened in an instant, Mana flooding through his flesh as his body responded to mortal danger. He twisted with speed that seemed impossible for his size, barely managing to wrench his neck away from the killing blow.
But the spear still found flesh.
A huge gash opened across his chest, splitting hide armor and skin alike. Blood sprayed in an arc that caught the morning light. The wound was deep enough that Damian could see the striated muscle beneath, could see it writhing as Mana flooded the area to begin the accelerated healing that Warriors possessed.
The Butcher looked down at his torn chest.
His fingers came away red.
His expression twisted into something that held no more pretense of civility.
"Kill as many as needed."
His voice was quiet now. Almost gentle.
"Let us have a feast."
...!
With such words, he charged toward Uncle Adam like a man who held the force of a mammoth. The ground cracked beneath his feet with each step. His bone blade sang through the air, and the very atmosphere seemed to part before its passage.
The Warriors behind him joined in.
Three more moved to surround Uncle Adam, their weapons raised and their bodies pulsing with Mana. The others turned toward the remaining Warriors of the Purple Stone Tribe, and what had been a tense standoff erupted into wholesale slaughter.
The Tribesmen screamed and scattered at the sight of blood.
Damian rose up.
The situation had unfolded in the worst possible direction, but he continued to look for a way out even in this visceral situation. When he breathed, he smelled the taste of iron and death in the surroundings. The copper tang of blood. The sharper scent of opened bowels and shit. The acrid smell of fear.
But his eyes became ever brighter as adrenaline coursed through him.
He watched the Warriors fighting, and it felt like watching beasts trying to trample each other. Their movements were too fast, too powerful. If anyone neared, they would get ground down to a mass of flesh before they knew it.
So...
"Can you stay back? As far as possible."
He whispered to Elena, whose body was shaking with quite a bit of fear. Her eyes were locked on her father, who had joined the fighting despite his wounds, his stone sword swinging with desperate strength.
She bit her lips hard enough to draw blood.
But she nodded.
As for him...
He did not scamper away like the rest of the Tribesmen.
He turned his gaze toward a scattered weapons rack nearby.
It was a simple wooden frame that had been knocked over in the chaos, spilling its contents across the blood-soaked earth. Several spears lay in the mud, their shafts of fire-hardened wood fitted with heads of knapped flint that gleamed despite the grime. A few stone axes rested beside them, their heads bound to hafts with cords of dried sinew. Two crude swords of sharpened obsidian completed the collection, their edges still sharp enough to split a falling hair.
Damian moved decisively.
He grasped two stone spears amidst the chaos, their weight familiar in his hands despite the years since he had last held weapons in earnest. His eyes tracked everything.
He could see Uncle Adam fighting against The Butcher and multiple other Warriors. The old warrior’s body weaved around them gracefully, like a dance that had been practiced a thousand thousand times. His spear moved in patterns that seemed almost lazy, yet each movement deflected a blow or created an opening.
This was an actual soldier using techniques of a place that was very distant from here.
The difference between a Warrior who simply relied on Mana-enhanced strength and one who had been trained in the arts of war was stark. Where The Butcher swung with raw power, Uncle Adam flowed. Where the Golden Tribe Warriors attacked in predictable patterns, Uncle Adam’s responses were endlessly varied.
Even though Uncle Adam’s power had deteriorated to Flesh Awakening, he was able to stand against multiple other Warriors at the same Circle.
But Damian knew that would be the extent of it.
Uncle Adam had gotten older. The heavy injuries accumulated over years of protecting a crippled prince had taken their toll. In the next minute, he would get injured. And The Butcher, whose chest wound was already closing with unnatural speed, would finish the job.
Uncle Adam seemed to know this as well.
His gaze turned over to Damian as he evaded spears and axes. His eyes flashed with blue Mana, and Damian understood the words he was seeking to convey even though he did not speak.
’Run away.’
’Please, I have protected you for so long. Don’t let all of it be for nothing.’
’Remember the Doctrines.’
’Remember the Doctrines.’
His eyes expressed this!
His entire body intended this.
But Damian smiled sadly.
How could he leave the old guard who had done everything for him all these years?
Did Uncle Adam not know?
He was the only family Damian had left.
And even though Damian had aspirations. Even though there were many monstrous beings he wanted to demand answers from. Even though he dreamed of one day standing before those who had destroyed everything he loved and asking them why...
How could he leave family behind again after all these years?
He had already run away once and ended up here.
Even though he knew it was stupid, he did not want to do it again.
Uncle Adam seemed to see his conviction.
His eyes became heartbroken.
And he howled as his spear moved even faster.
BOOM!