Chapter Sixty-Seven: Killing Intent! Killing Intent! (Part One)

The beetle fell to the ground, and nearby a massive reindeer's hoof came crashing down. Had it landed squarely, the beetle's first cavalry charge would surely have become his last! Shaya rolled desperately across the earth, swinging his axe-spear with all his might. With a crack, the reindeer’s hoof flew off, and he severed the beast’s leg entirely. An Odin warrior atop the reindeer let out a furious roar and leapt down, grappling with Shaya. The two rolled together, and Shaya freed one hand to smash his fist into the warrior’s face, breaking the man’s nose with a sickening crunch. The Odin warrior screamed, about to lunge at Shaya again, but was trampled by a horse that charged from behind, the hooves crushing his spine and killing him instantly.

Shaya hadn’t even turned when he heard the rush of wind behind him—a reindeer cavalryman from Odin swung an axe at his shoulder, the blade gleaming coldly. Shaya raised his axe-spear to block; with a clang, the Odin warrior felt an overwhelming force shatter his axe in two. Shaya planted his feet, lunged forward, and slammed his shoulder into the man, knocking him from the reindeer’s back. Shaya landed atop the reindeer, which continued its wild sprint. He clung fiercely to its head, nearly wrenching its neck as he twisted with all his strength. The reindeer let out a plaintive cry and collapsed, neck twisted.

Prone on the earth, Shaya saw a nearby cavalryman dragged from his horse by the Odins, half his head cleaved away, brain matter spraying. Shaya’s eyes burned red—he recognized the fallen man as a member of his own guard, who had trained with him only days before. Shaya surged forward, gripping his axe-spear in both hands and driving it deep into the Odin warrior’s gut, lifting and flinging the corpse aside. He mounted the fallen cavalryman’s horse, kicked its belly hard, and charged after the enemy.

By now, the cavalry formation had broken through; the Odins numbered only a hundred or so, far fewer than Kevin’s forces. Shaya ran at the rear, chased by the Odin riders. He drew the longsword from his saddle and hurled it at the leading reindeer cavalryman. With a thud, the blade pierced his chest, and the Odin warrior fell from his mount.

The reindeer cavalry pursued desperately, but their mounts lagged behind the warhorses, and the gap widened. Suddenly, from the woods atop a nearby rise, a squad of archers emerged! Though few in number, dozens of archers drew their bows, aiming at the human cavalry below.

“Raise your shields!” Kevin roared in fury as a rain of arrows poured down!

The first wave struck; the cavalry, caught off guard, saw more than ten men shot, seven or eight thrown from their horses. The archers on the rise nocked their bows again; though the cavalry now raised their shields, their mounts wore no armor. The rise stood a hundred paces away, with a five or six meter incline—impossible for the cavalry to charge straight up. Any attempt to circle would give the enemy time for five or six more volleys of arrows.

Shaya’s mind was clear as crystal—every stray thought banished, focused on a single resolve: get his brothers through!

The gruesome death of his guardsman, skull split by the Odin axe, seemed to replay before his eyes. A surge of hot blood erupted in his chest. Shaya bellowed, wheeled his horse away from the formation, and charged toward the rise!

The horse galloped to the base of the hill; with a five or six meter gap, there was no hope of climbing it. Yet Shaya seemed oblivious, spurring his horse onward. The beast ran a few paces up the slope before faltering, but Shaya had already released the stirrups, leaping from the saddle. With all his strength, he pushed off the horse’s back, launching himself three or four meters into the air! In midair, he plunged his fire fork into the slope, used it as leverage, and somersaulted onto the rise!

Axe-spear in his left hand, fire fork in his right, Shaya roared and charged the archers at the edge of the woods.

The archers had just loosed their second volley, when they saw this madman, clad in Byzantine armor, charging up the slope. Shaya sprinted, covering seven or eight strides in a leap, and before the archers could react, he barreled into their midst!

He swung his axe-spear; blood sprayed, three or four archers fell. The rest dropped their bows, drew swords, and surrounded Shaya. He bellowed, chopping down his axe-spear onto an archer’s skull, splitting head and torso in two. Blood splattered Shaya completely, dyeing his upper body red. His face was spattered with gore; he turned, shouldered another archer aside, and took several sword blows to the back. With his body strengthened by dragon blood, ordinary attacks could not harm him; he felt only pain, then barged back into the fray.

His strength was immense; as he crashed through, two archers in his way were sent flying, vomiting blood. The fire fork stabbed rapidly, piercing three heads; with a reverse swing, his axe cleaved through an enemy’s sword, the blade catching and severing an arm—blood sprayed as the man collapsed.

Yet Shaya finally suffered a fierce blow—a figure of officer rank among the archers, wielding a longsword gleaming with milky-white battle aura, slashed hard at Shaya’s shoulder. The blow forced him to his knees, the aura’s power overwhelming; the sword split his armor, and even his dragon-blooded body could not withstand such an attack. Blood gushed from his shoulder.

But the officer was stunned—his battle-aura infused strike, which should have cleaved a man in two, had merely split Shaya’s armor and failed to break his bones. The blade stuck in Shaya’s shoulder, unable to go further.

Shaya screamed in pain, twisted around, his agony unleashing a surge of strength. He slammed into the officer, who grunted and sent a fresh burst of explosive battle aura from his blade, detonating against Shaya’s shoulder. Blood erupted in a spray; flesh exploded like rain.

Shaya howled, eyes wide and blazing red. In a flash, he stabbed his fire fork into the officer’s skull, punching a hole through his head. Two more swords stabbed his back.

Though dragon blood had strengthened him, its effects had limits. Once wounded, armor breached and blood spilled, his momentum waned and the dragon blood’s power diminished. The two blows to his back pierced flesh, though not through, still forcing him to collapse forward.

Down below, Kevin and his cavalry circled the rise, witnessing Shaya’s charge into the archers, their ranks thrown into chaos and unable to fire. He saw Shaya struck down by a sword, kneeling as the archers swarmed with blades.

Kevin’s eyes blazed with rage; he cried out in pain, ready to wheel his horse and charge up the rise.

But suddenly, from the throng, Shaya leapt up again, smashing aside several archers, and shouted down the hill:

“Damn it all—get out of here!”