The earth shakes with tremors from a treant slam and arcane barrage ensue.
On the receiving end of the onslaught, an arcane barrier flickers, straining to hold against the barrage.
Hairline fractures mar its blue crystalline surface, spreading and weaving across its surface.
Crack!
It shatters, fragments flying through the air dissipating into swirls of arcana.
Still, it had served its purpose.
It held on just long enough to get the enforcers re-oriented, though they are still reeling from its aftershocks.
The enforcers were getting more acclimatized, their drilled efficiency shining through as more and more treants got hacked and burnt to smoking cinders.
It is at this moment that Rain yet again strikes at his would-be protectors---or rather, oppressors as he would prefer to call them.
In the spur of the moment, Rain capitalizes on the rising morale and fully focused enforcers, gazes locked on the humanoid living wood- their backs turned.
*Sitting* *ducks*
He lunges, his gaze full of malice and deranged glee as he feels resistance against his blade tearing through the throat of an oblivious enforcer.
Guh!
The victim grunts, clutching his torn neck, blood spewing through his clasped fingers.
He buckles and collapses within the next moment,
[[Ding! Soul fragment obtained!]
As usual he retreats, aiming to blend in with the volunteers, or rather, he attempts to.
A piercing gaze locks onto him, the killing intent sending a chill up his spine.
"He killed Karlo!"
An enforcer shouts, crossbow aimed.
Twack!
A bolt gets released, whistling as it cut through the air.
So fast that in that split second, it arrives before fear-frozen Rain.
Inaction would have his brain skewered.
Yet again it had already become too late to dodge.
He stumbles, his vision carrying a tinge of scarlet as the bolt tears his skin.
The stumble saved him--- albeit with a cost.
A line of tear runs from his cheek, across his face and through his left ear.
Arrgh!
A yelp of pain escapes his throat.
He looks back, already in a run.
The crossbowman steadies, ready to let loose another bolt--- but his lose of focus costs him.
Shik!
A wooden spike impales his chest, hands falling limp as he the death beckons.
The crossbow drops harmlessly from his grasp.
Not even in the moment of his death did his gaze leave the retreating silhouette of Rain.
His eyes glowing with wrath, even at deaths doorstep.
The other enforcers burst into action, hacking the treant to pieces, screeches of pain tearing through the air.
They get a fraction of a second to lock their gaze on the scampering figure of Rain as he made for the tree line.
Just a glimpse before they had to turn back and fight.
But now with their eyes wary and cautiously scanning the 'volunteers' from time to time-- jaws clenched in apparent fury.
The battle before them was daunting, and ferocious.
The earth saw the most upheaval, sparks flew in every direction.
The earth beneath their feet surrenders and gives in to wave after waves of strikes, small craters appearing all over, scarring the battlefield.
Nonetheless, they were at the precipice of victory, slowly pushing back against the tide of treants.
Reducing them to charred remains and crackling cinder.
Ripples of their clash blasted throughout their battlefield, a few of the volunteers reeling from the blast.
Others bleeding and choking on their own blood as shrapnel tore through their fickle figures.
Nevertheless, the advantage was mounting, odds tipping to their favour.
As for the perpetrator?
Rain?
His figure had long retreated into the thick foliage, the thick canopy hiding his silhouette from view.
He pants in ragged breaths as his steps thud, cutting through the jungle.
He runs in a straight line, only making a ninety degree turn when he comes before a roaring river.
Following along its course up to a rocky track, where he braves the churning waters and risks crossing.
His feet struggle to find sure footing against the slippery and slick algae covered rocks.
He doubles over, almost hitting his temple against a outcropping rock.
Making it across and setting foot to the other bank, he promptly clutches the slippery reeds to pull himself up, their bladed leaves cutting through his palms and fingers.
Unrelenting, he grits his teeth, fighting through the pain, his vision blurring with a crimson tinge, his own blood half blinding him.
Yet, he prevails, making as much distance as he possibly could.
One would question his decision.
Saying that he should have bid his time...
But him?
No regrets whatsoever.
He couldn't stand still and obey his oppressors.
No! That was not him.
His decision to scamper into the tree line?
A calculated risk.
Who would be more enticing?
A sole survivor or a full entourage of them?
An entourage of course.
An acceptable rewards to exertion ratio for a beast or a horde of them.
That's the logic behind it.
For now, he will bid his time, grow some fangs of his own, then deliver a decisive blow to his captors.
Don't be fooled that he'd killed three of the enforcers.
That was a major risk and a whole lot of capitalizing on misfortune... tinged with loads upon loads of luck.
One on one?
He would be dismembered, not to mention a whole entourage!
They were a whopping two ranks above him!
Two ranks!
What is a mere novice against Expert rankers?
Nothing.
An ant.
Nevertheless, he had weaseled out three lives out of them.
That counts for something...right?
Drops of blood drip down his visage, he extends his palm to wipe them off.
A crimson smudge running across his face as he rubs away the viscous blood.
Soon it will clot and dry.
But for now?
Finding shelter was pertinent
A fundamental necessity to his survival.
Squeeek!
A snarl rouses him from his musings.
At the periphery of his vision, a blurry silhouette charges.
He slides away, rolling and hitting his spine against a tree trunk--- knocking the air out of his lungs.
His vision swims, darting across the canopy, failing to spot his adversary
Arrrgh!
He grunts, pain tearing through his shoulder.
There!
His eyes narrow into pinholes.
Before him stands a creature out of his wildest nightmares.
Snarling and barring its razor fangs dripping with viscous and foaming saliva.
The silhouette, now more discernable, was a grotesque hybrid of a creature.
An amalgamation of rodent and reptile?
He wasn't certain.
His instincts blare sirens urging him to scamper.
Turn and give his back to such a creature?
Never!
His fingers coil around his daggers' hilts unsheathing them with a shing.
He steadies his trembling hands, vision blurred from the blood trickling down his face.
His left shoulder a mess, threatening to go limp.
The two predators' gazes lock.
Man versus beast.
Rain shuffles his feet, his footing uncertain, stance at the brink of collapse.
"I have to finish this quick, or else..."
The beast lunges, Rain ducks moving away from the barrage of claws.
They circle each other.
Skreech!
It pounces, Rain grunts as he raises his almost limp left arm.
He leverages, letting the beast sink its teeth into his arm- all for a decisive blow.
The odds for a drawn out fight were not in his favour.
He pivots, sending his dagger tearing through the beast's chest, plunging its steel blade to the creature's heart.
His gambit pays off.
The creature thrashes and shrieks fighting off the cold embrace of death.
It squirms, crawling to a tree trunk.
Rain cautiously watches, his vision blurring and swimming with each passing second.
He is on the brink of collapse, but not before he makes sure the beast is dead.
[Ding! Soul fragment obtained!]
His shoulders slump, relaxing at the kill confirmation.
Fatigue creeps in, slowly lulling him to sleep.
Squeek
A weak squeak sounds, close to the trunk.
Alert, he fights off the alluring call of slumber, making way for the sound.
Before him, just below the trunk, at the roots of the giant oak was a concealed burrow!
A faint call of the creature's offspring.
Ahh!
He squeezes in, finding a spacious and fortified lair.
A litter of squirming critters at one corner.
An exasperated sigh slips his lips.
His vision blurs as he collapses- giving in to the embrace of darkness.