a gorgeous white by Heather_anare

271: breaking defenses

The arrowhead sharply pierced through the air, faster than a flash of lightning.

Nothing could stop it as it made its mark. With a stab, it rapidly dug through flesh and bursts out from the back along with the spray of crimson, splattering on the ground. One down. At the same time, three fierce blades, ruthlessly driven, sliced the next target into three parts. The blood pooled beneath the severed torso, head, and legs.

Two of the three were down in a split second. The blazing spear, frozen still in the air above them, faded and vanished completely. The spell was broken. Without the other two, the surviving malefic could not finish it alone. But before he could turn to retreat and report, a blade's edge met his vision, and he took his last breath. His head split into two with a burst of red.

Seeing that they have succeeded in stopping the next attack, Maxille hurried to his brother's side with a worried face. Moulin was quick to escape his protective gaze and went off to fight off some more. They weren't finished yet.

The battle was gruesomely bloody. A mixture of red and black liquids pooled on the dark earth, horridly soaking and contaminating it. The corpses of both sides littered the ground. Moulin was fast as he kept shooting off arrows, creating a trail of ice statues behind him. It was as though he was releasing all the pent-up energy he kept while within the Three Towers.

When he had enough of his sacred weapon, he switched to a longsword of ice, cutting down gigantic limbs and swiftly dodging attacks at the same time.

Not long after, the last of the malibreeds and malefics were annihilated. The battle ended.

"Is that the rest of it?" Hadrian slightly turned to his side as he gazed at the flickering red light from the city's barrier.

The officer behind him nodded. "Yes, My Lord."

"The Captain."

"He... " The man paused before he shook his head. "He's not among the survivors nor the corpses, My Lord."

Golden eyes coldly turned to the officer. Hadrian's gaze narrowed. "Gather them up. Bring the dead with us." He returned his gaze to the city walls with a vacant stare. "We'll return them for burial."

"Yes, My Lord."

Their return to the city was dreadfully silent. The remaining pathfinders were brought to the Three Towers to be treated. The injured were isolated, and the perished ones were brought to their family or close friends and be buried the next day. The startling attack near the city caused a lot of people to panic. These were not all the concerns for the Lords of the tower. The barrier was acting strange.

"Begin." Carrying a ruthless air, Hadrian ordered as he strode through the doors.

He had changed his blood-stained attire and looked clean and purified of contamination. So was the beautiful youth at his side. Moulin was expressionless as he and Maxille entered the threshold.

"My Lord." The Lords and Ladies rose from their seats and bowed to him. They wore respectful faces, hiding the fear and anxiety inside their hearts. The High Lord had accompanied the knights to rescue the pathfinders, yet he didn't look exhausted. Instead, he turned more serious and intimidating.

"The Pathfinder captain did not return with his group." The Veresyah Lord, Marlow spoke. A sigh escaped his lips.

The Morfaer Lord asked. "Then where is he?"

"The second-in-command, who was among the unharmed pathfinders, explained that he had sacrificed himself to save the group when they were crossing the boundary in Meian."