The Naga-kin's snarl, "Traitor!" hung in the air like a curse. Then, it moved.
Its serpentine body uncoiled in a blur, putting distance between itself and Hale, avoiding his oncoming attack. The bone bow came up. Four arrows of corrosive green energy materialized and shot forth.
Hale didn't retreat. He surged forward, his chained gait somehow fluid and powerful. He twisted, the arrows screaming past him to explode against the courtyard wall.
Taz was already in motion. His dual swords were a silver whirlwind, deflecting a fourth arrow Hale couldn't avoid. The energy sizzled against his blade.
From his high window, Alexander watched, heart pounding. Their teamwork was seamless. Taz was a master of defense and precision. Hale was pure, overwhelming offense. They moved like a single entity.
But the Naga-kin was clever. It used its tail, a massive muscular whip, to smash a stone planter, sending debris flying to break their rhythm.
A normal arrow from the battlements struck its scaled shoulder. It shattered. The creature didn't even flinch.
"Their steel is useless," Alexander whispered.
"The weapons of this age are toys against a properly forged foe. It will take something… older."
A new sound cut through the clash of battle. A skittering, chittering wave rising from the sewers and alleyways.
Then they came. Hundreds of them.
Clawstriders poured into the square. But these were wrong. Alexander's blood ran cold. They were a full head taller than the ones he'd fought in the instance. Their muscles bulged unnaturally. Their claws were not bone, but a sharpened, metallic black that gleamed under the sun. They moved with a terrifying, unified purpose.
The battle shattered into chaos.
The royal guards met the horde with a roar. Steel clashed against hardened carapace. A guardsman's sword bit deep into a clawstrider's neck, but two more tackled him from the side.
The square became a slaughterhouse. Guards were killed before they could attack. A few Clawstriders broke through, leaping onto some townspeople from the earlier crowd, who were trying to escape.
Hale and Taz were suddenly fighting a war on two fronts.
A pack of mutated Clawstriders lunged for Taz's flank. Hale pivoted, his free fist moving like a battering ram. He crushed one's skull, then grabbed another by the leg, using its body as a flail to clear a space.
The Naga-kin used the distraction. It fired an energy arrow not at them, but through the gap Hale had created. Taz barely dodged, the corrosive magic eating into the ground where he'd stood.
The air in the courtyard grew thick and heavy, a suffocating soup of coppery blood, the corrosive tang of the Naga-kin's magic, and the guttural shrieks of the dying. The cobblestones grew slick with gore, making every step a treacherous gamble.
Seeing a momentary opening in Hale's relentless advance, the Naga-kin's massive tail whipped around and smashed into a fractured piece of a statue, sending a chunk of marble the size of a man's torso flying like a cannonball.
Hale braced and took the hit square in the chest with a grunt that cracked through the noise, the impact staggering him for a crucial second.
In that moment of distraction, the creature drew and fired three arrows in a rapid, hissing volley—all aimed at Taz. The High Guard's swords became a silver blur, deflecting the first two. But the third grazed his shoulder, shearing through pauldron and flesh.
A line of brick-red instantly bloomed across his uniform. He hissed through clenched teeth but his stance never broke. "Just a scratch!" he snarled, pressing the attack with a grimace of pain.
They were being overwhelmed.
A Clawstrider, faster than the rest, leaped from a pile of rubble straight at Taz's exposed back. Hale saw it, but he didn't have time to block.
He turned and took the blow.
Black claws ripped across his back, tearing through cloth and flesh. Alexander gasped. But there was no spray of blood. The deep wounds sealed themselves in the span of a heartbeat, leaving only faint, silvery lines that faded to nothing.
Taz saw it. His eyes widened for a fraction of a second. Then his training took over. "Left!" he barked.
Hale moved on command, his chained foot kicking out to crush the skull of a Clawstrider leaping from the left.
They were a machine. Taz, the lethal, fragile core. Hale, the indestructible shield.
Slowly, brutally, they began to turn the tide. Hale's immutable strength carved a path through the horde. Taz's swords became a precision instrument, finding the gaps in the Clawstriders' armor, deflecting the Naga-kin's opportunistic shots.
Before he could re-engage the archer, a cry of terror sliced through the battle. A corrupted Clawstrider had broken the line and pounced on a guardsman who had lost his helmet.
Hale was there in a flash, his chained fist moving faster than sight, reducing the beast's head to a spray of chitin and black fluid. He hauled the dazed, blood-spattered man to his feet. "Find a spearpoint!" he barked, shoving him towards a forming defensive circle.
He moved like a storm through the chaos, a bastion of unbreakable flesh. He kicked a Clawstrider away from a cowering woman trapped against a wall, used his own body to block a leaping attack meant for a wounded guard, and single-handedly cleared a path for a retreating squad carrying their injured.
With the immediate threats to the vulnerable neutralized, he turned his gaze back to the Naga-kin, his eyes burning with cold fury. "My dance card just cleared," he muttered, and charged back into the main fray.
He and Taz pushed towards the archer.
Seeing its minions falling, the Naga-kin grew desperate. It fired a rapid volley. Taz deflected two. Hale let a third slam into his chest, grunting as the energy dissipated against him, and kept coming.
This was their strategy. Let the immortal take the hits the mortal cannot.
Hale was within reach. He lunged, his manacled fist aiming for the creature's throat.
The Naga-kin tried to dodge, but Taz was there, his swords a flashing distraction. Hale's fist connected with a sickening crunch of scale and bone.
The creature shrieked, a sound of pure agony. It reeled back, its serpent body thrashing. A deep fracture appeared in the scales over its chest, leaking not blood, but a faint, sickly green light.
It was cornered. Beaten.
Rage replaced pain in its glowing eyes. It reared up, ignoring Taz. The fractured scales on its chest glowed brighter, pulsing like a diseased heart.
"You will drown in the abyss with me, Traitor!" it hissed.
The air around it began to warp. A vile, green gas billowed from its body, hissing as it touched the air.
The nearest Clawstriders caught in the cloud convulsed and melted into puddles of bubbling flesh. The cobblestones themselves smoked and dissolved.
It was a final, suicidal toxin blast.
Taz was too close, his momentum carrying him forward for a killing stroke. He was a heartbeat from being dissolved.
Hale had a choice.
End the creature. Or save the man.
There was no hesitation.
He abandoned his stance. In a burst of speed that defied his chains, he crossed the distance and tackled Taz, driving them both backward. He turned his back to the Naga-kin, wrapping his arms around the high guard, becoming a living shield.
The concentrated wave of toxin hit him full force.
Alexander watched, horrified. Hale's back sizzled, his clothes disintegrating. He roared, a sound of pure, agonized strain, but he held his ground, containing the blast.
The Naga-kin used the cover of its own poisonous cloud. With a final, hateful hiss, it slithered away, vanishing into a side street with shocking speed.
The toxin cloud dissipated, leaving a circle of death in the courtyard.
The last of the Clawstriders, confused without their master's will, were quickly dispatched by the remaining guards.
Silence descended, broken only by the moans of the wounded and the crackle of dying magic.
Taz pushed himself up. He looked at Hale, whose back was a raw, red mess of rapidly healing tissue. The unspoken question hung between them: You let it get away. For me.
Hale took a sharp, pained breath. His skin was already knitting itself back together. He gave Taz a weary, lopsided grin.
"What? I'm a valuable asset. Can't have my handler dying on me." He winced, rolling his shoulders. "The paperwork would be dreadful."
His eyes, sharp and knowing, flicked upwards, seeming to find Alexander's window for a single, piercing moment. Then he turned back to survey the carnage.
The courtyard was a charnel house. Where a full company of the Royal Guard had stood, only shattered shields and a scattered few still drawing breath remained.
In his cell, Alexander slid down the wall, his legs weak. The image of Hale's healing flesh and his choice to save a single life at the cost of a greater victory was burned into his mind.
"He let the true prey escape to save a flickering candle. I must know more about this boy."