The six soldiers with shields formed a shallow line across the nave, their bronze rims touching and their spears levelled through the gaps. The two swordsmen and the mace-bearer remained one pace behind them.
The formation did not fill the entire hall, but passing around it would force Eirwen dangerously close to the open arches on the left.
He backed toward the centre instead and watched the spearheads. Behind him, the black wall moved with a heavy boom and sealed the way he had entered.
I need to be careful... If I waste too much Essence, I won't be able to restore it through them! He flexed his claws and sent Hydra's Choice into a faster orbit.
The spear line moved and attacked first.
Three points came at him together: one at his face, one at his stomach and one aimed at his thigh.
Hydra's Choice knocked the highest aside while Eirwen himself stepped over the low thrust and slapped the middle shaft away with his left hand.
But that movement exposed his side, and a fourth spear slipped past the others, scraped across the plates of his armour and found a gap.
Pain punched through him as the bronze point entered his body and came out through his back. Hot blood immediately flooded beneath his armour.
[Weight of the Deep] did nothing; the narrow spearhead passed through the armour before it could spread the impact.
Eirwen groaned and pulled the tip out, blood spilling only for a second before the wound immediately closed.
Only blunt force. He thought with clenched teeth. How stupid of me for not figuring that out already. But practice is the best of all teachers!
Retreating would leave him at the end of six spears, so Eirwen went forward instead. He yanked the trapped shaft with both hands.
Its owner lurched ahead, pulling one shield away from the next and opening a narrow gap in the line. Hydra's Choice deflected another thrust close to his head while Eirwen kicked the displaced shield inward and forced himself between the two bronze soldiers.
The mace-bearer met him behind the shielf wall.
Its weapon swept toward his head in a heavy horizontal arc, forcing Eirwen to drop beneath the bronze fist, but the lower part of the haft clipped his upper arm hard enough to spin him.
This time, the armour swallowed the blow, and the light between its plates brightened toward white.
He fell to one knee beside the construct and drove his claws into the back of its leg. The mace-bearer toppled forward, and Eirwen climbed onto its back before it struck the floor. He hooked both hands beneath its helmet and tore the head free.
Black oil burst across his face and neck, carrying short strands of copper wire with it.
The spear-bearers tried to turn their line around him, but their long weapons crowded one another at such close range.
Eirwen kept the fallen mace-bearer between himself and half of them while Hydra's Choice guarded his back.
One construct thrust over the corpse, and the silver sword knocked the point down. Eirwen caught the shaft beneath his arm before dragging the statue close.
He buried his claws in the gaps of its elbow and ripped away the spear arm.
Before it could strike with the shield, he seized the lower edge of its helmet and pulled sideways.
The neck opened with a deep crack, and the head came free in a spill of oil.
A second spear-bearer stepped over the first.
Eirwen moved around its thrust and kicked the bronze shield it was holding with such force that it got knocked back.
The two constructs collided and blocked one another for a moment.
Eirwen didn't waste the opening and stepped behind the closest one. His claws entered the gaps on either side of its neck, and he pulled until the bronze collar split.
The body remained upright after the head came off, blindly swinging its shield through the air, so Eirwen kicked it into the others and made them move around their own dead comrade.
Suddenly, a shield struck him from the back. [Weight of the Deep] caught the blow and packed it into the force already straining the armour.
Eirwen stumbled forward, straight into the reach of one of the swordsmen.
A myriad of curses escaped his lips as the short bronze blade slid beneath his raised arm and emerged around his collarbone.
Blood burst from his mouth and the wound, only intensifying when the construct tried to lift the weapon and cut upward through his chest. Eirwen seized its wrist with both hands and held the blade still.
This is not going as planned! He groaned. His left lung already collapsed around the sword, and every attempt to breathe drew blood into his throat.
He moved closer to the construct, letting another inch of bronze go through his body so his claws could reach the gaps at its elbow before tearing the arm away.
But the sword remained inside him as he staggered back.
Eirwen caught the hilt, pulled it free in one hard movement and let the weapon fall while his lung began rebuilding itself alongside every other wound.
The crippled statue didn't experience any pain like Eirwen though, nor did it have anything in mind but killing the boy in front of it.
His eyes twitched as he felt his Essence go to waste. He stepped forward with a growl and drove both hands beneath its bronze collar, ripping its head backward until the neck tore open.
Taking out their heads was apparently the only reason to fully immobilize them, so Eirwen was doing just that.
Still, five of them remained.
They closed ranks over the parts of the others, bronze feet crushing severed hands and broken weapons into the marble.
Eirwen's own breathing cleared as the lung rebuilt itself, though a deep weakness spread through his body with every sliver of Essence his Flaw consumed.
The constructs had no Essence for him to steal back and no flesh to devour. Fighting them was pure expense. Worse, [Weight of the Deep] was almost at its limit too.
The blue lines between the armour plates had brightened toward white, and the armour vibrated against his skin.
I'd say it can tank one more blow for me, everything after will reach my body normally... He silently calculated as he recalled Hydra's Choice to his hand.
The longsword snapped out of its orbit, struck his palm hilt-first and lengthened as Essence flowed into it, the blade stretching until its point nearly touched the floor.
Four spear-bearers remained, along with the second swordsman. They spread into a half-circle instead of rebuilding the shield line, forcing him to watch both sides while the swordsman held the centre.
They are much smarter than most Nightmare Creature's I have faced so far. How annoying, tsk.
They had clearly adapted and changed their tactics according to their enemy.
It wouldn't be enough to stop him though.
He lowered the sword and ran straight at the swordsman, his eyes wide open and pupils shrunk in focus.
The bronze blade cut toward his throat the moment he got close. Eirwen parried at the last moment, letting the weapons meet close to his body, then turned his wrist and let the enemy's edge slide past him.
A spear followed from the right and he stepped inside it, using it's long reach against it. The swordsman punched him with its free hand, a simple, brutal strike that landed across the centre of his breatsplate.
[Weight of the Deep] swallowed it just as Eirwen thought.
The last space inside the armour filled and white-blue light burst through the gaps, the entire Memory tightened with enough force to bruise Eirwen beneath it.
The punch should have broken his chest and sent him back across the nave, but instead, he remained in front of the construct with his boots grinding through the marble.
The bronze fist stayed pressed against his chest for a fraction of a second, as if the thing did not understand where its strength had gone.
Eirwen caught its wrist and pulled the swordsman against him as the four spear-bearers closed from both sides, trying to stab around their ally before he could tear it apart.
That was exactly what he needed. One shield clipped his side after the armour had filled, and pain travelled through him without being absorbed. Eirwen waited until all five constructs were within reach ignoring their attacks, drove his heel into the floor and activated [Abyssal Return].
The stored force left the armour at once, erupting into the air around him as crushing pressure. Eirwen forced the release down instead of letting it just out blindly.
The marble beneath his boots broke apart, and all five statues were driven toward the floor before any of them could move away.
Their knees struck the marble together.
The swordsman was torn from Eirwen's grip and thrown down with the rest. [Abyssal Return] held them there for only an instant, but that instant was more than enough.
Hydra's Choice was already blurring through the air before landing in his hands once more.
Eirwen lowered his stance and turned through a full circle with both hands on the extended hilt.
The silver blade passed through the exposed gaps beneath all five helmets in one continuous sweep. Five heads left their bodies almost together, trailing torn copper wire and black oil.
One bounced between Eirwen's feet while the headless bodies folded over their shields. The last spear fell, rang once against the floor and rolled into the broken marble.
For several seconds Eirwen stood amid the wreckage with Hydra's Choice extended beside him. Blood ran from the healing slit beneath his collarbone and mixed with the oil coating his armour. The blue light had vanished from the [Vestment of the Sunken King], and the crushing weight inside it was gone.
Pieces of bronze twitched around his boots. A severed hand dragged itself two inches by flexing its fingers, then stopped when he stepped on it and crushed it flat.
The only sound inside the church was Eirwen's heavy breathing.