On the other side of the caravan, Icarus was facing his own perils. It had seemed that the older Luvisk decided to strike separately from the naive ones. One could only guess what was going through the creatures' repulsive minds. However, this split in maturity made the side Icarus and Ariel were fighting on miles more dangerous.
Icarus found himself in a sticky situation. Moving with the caravan to his back, he was pitted against a small group of mature Luvisk— a death sentence for anybody foolish enough to challenge them. Luckily — or perhaps unluckily — Icarus was used to drawing the short stick; in truth, Icarus was likely the most suited to the task.
The standoff was intense; neither side dared to strike first, and yet Icarus knew he was living on borrowed time. It wouldn't be long until he was ripped to pieces. Icarus shattered the anticipation, brandishing his blade with lethal intent; not long after, two blue hands grabbed hold of a scimitar. The curved edge was not meant to be held with two hands; knowing this, Icarus cultivated a vivid flare of orange that came to life along his steel. Once the ember had adjusted to his blade, he released the grip of his left hand.
The Knight's legs launched him forward; Icarus's guard was nonexistent, and yet, he showed no sign of vulnerability. An expression that many would find impossible to keep in the face of certain death. Two of the five enemies were missing, and the other three could conceal themselves at any time. If there was a time to strike, it was when he could still perceive the majority.
Icarus did not have eyes in the back of his head, but if he did, he would have seen a Luvisk lurking in his shadow.
In no time at all, Icarus was upon his target, and a ruthless storm of blazing steel was unleashed. The scimitar flowed like water, shedding a burst of embers with each swing. Icarus's onslaught was met with a flurry of deft evasions; however, his strikes were not for naught.
A stray spark ignited on seemingly nothing. Icarus's mouth curved upwards. That stray spark soon turned to an unforgiving inferno — with no intentions to stop — devouring the Luvisk that chose to reveal itself once its fur had caught aflame. It thrashed, already falling behind the churn of wheels. The beast he'd rushed towards earlier launched a vicious attack, aiming straight for the neck.
The reaction that met this was nothing if not strange; the blue figure chose not to weave, deflect, or counter. Instead, Icarus chose to continue attacking, arcing his blade into a cleaving sweep. It was apparent that the blade had no chance of intercepting the gnashing jaws that would soon close in on him, but Icarus's smile never wavered; if anything, it only grew wider.
One Luvisk loomed behind, two more closed in on his flanks, and a serrated maw hovered inches from his throat. Just a moment later, its teeth clamped down on Icarus's neck... His blue skin turned completely translucent, nullifying the bite into no more than an annoyance. An orange crescent ripped open the surroundings, leaving a subtle warmth in the air and slicing the Luvisk in two. This gruesome slaughter left no blood to be seen, the wound being instantly cauterized before any could spill.
'One'
Icarus was different from his peers; his ancestry was strange, even by Gaia's standards. Wounds that were fatal to anybody else had no effect under the Fischeran's innate blessing; they called it the Wind Shield — a fitting name for the sky kin.
The Wind Shield — powerful as it is — has its flaws. The natural defense could only sustain five strikes before needing to recharge — for this reason, Fischeran often counted their breaths. Additionally, the user could not pick and choose which blows to negate and which to endure. A barrage of shallow strikes could very well render the Wind Shield useless for a time.
The air had slightly shifted around him.
A second later, Icarus's skin turned translucent again; this time, there was no clear culprit.
'Two'
Icarus turned and saw one Luvisk; the other two were hiding again. He didn't need to fear the invisible blows. Pushing himself once more, the blue figure set his targets on the only one he could see. Right before reaching his target, Icarus tripped on something. Not a stone, stick, or anything mundane. He stumbled on something he could not perceive. Again, moments later, he turned diaphanous.
'Three...'
A slight tremble went through his mind.
His sense of direction collapsed. Icarus was left fending for himself, his breath running out. Desperately, he tried to control his landing, but this only led to an awkward run with little to no say in where his body went. The Luvisk he had previously set his sights on was nowhere to be seen. It was just then that Icarus's smile began to falter.
Icarus had no choice but to seize the moment. A metal pad lay on his left shoulder. That was at the forefront of Icarus's charge. His rush had not been blind. Luvisk weren't easy to predict at face value, but by knowing one's enemy, victory was inevitable. These creatures tended to be the hit-and-run type. Preferring to circle their prey and one by one engage, eventually outlasting them in a game of attrition. By now, Icarus could see that the other two from before had come out of hiding, replaced by the Luvisk Icarus had been charging to.
His charge was swift despite the rocky start and ended in a splatter. Icarus's blue skin was painted a black-red, no longer protected by the cauterization of his flame. Instantly following up, his blade lashed out to finish the job. Only two were left, and both had vanished from view.
Icarus stood still, unmoving and unwavering. When his skin changed complexion, he was ready and struck down his attacker.
'four'
Trying to catch him off guard, the last luvisk waited until attacking, yet the same fate awaited it.
An indifferent gaze assaulted the burning corpses that littered the battlefield. If Icarus hadn't been moving with the wagons, he might've regretted the smell of charred flesh that permeated the air.
'five'