Diffraction

Chapter Thirty-One: Unwelcome Greetings

"The loss of life matters not. The destabilization of the region benefits us, even if it does not come from our hand. Especially so, in fact."

Lyllithe wiped her mouth with the back of her left hand and brushed it through the grass. Josephine tugged on her right hand, pulling Lyllithe to unsteady feet. She tried to ignore the bodies and focused instead on the Bloodsworn revelers.

"It's like they're worshiping," Lyllithe said, "offering a sacrifice of some sort."

"They're vile," Josephine growled. "And they deserve what they're going to get."

Distant war-cries echoed on the wind. One of the Bloodsworn pointed toward the hill where the companions stood. In moments, the small pack rushed out of the village, weapons glinting in the sunlight.

"Hold this position," Jahrin said. "Keep the advantage of higher ground." He knelt near a large stone and laid Ellers' unconscious body down with surprising care. Then he drew his great sledge from the straps on his back. "We have enough disadvantages already."

Lyllithe considered healing Ellers once more, but thought the better of it. His weakened state might not be able to withstand the stress.

Josephine tightened her buckler onto her shield-arm and hefted her hammer. Her Gracemark flared as the Bloodsworn closed the distance.

"Soften them up, Kristophe," Jahrin said. "You too, Lyl."

The Arcanist stepped forward and thrust out his hands. Pillars of earth burst from the ground and pummeled the oncoming savages. Lyllithe Refocused light until the sky seemed to dim and unleashed a stream of starbursts. Bloodsworn stumbled and fell, twitching on the ground. But they inevitably rose and resumed their advance.

Fireballs rent the earth and left Kristophe's targets sprawled and dazed. Lyllithe thrust radiant beams from her fingertips, and two of the Bloodsworn staggered in a rage, blinded. Their reckless swings with cruel weapons caught their allies and ripped into flesh.

Yet in every case, the savages maintained their advance. Lyllithe could make out grinning faces, thin lips spread in a rictus of white teeth. The sight of bloodshed—even among their own—whipped the wild men into a frenzy. Eyes wide and lusty, they dashed up the hillside.

Jahrin charged to meet the man at the front, a burly redhead running full speed with two long glasteel swords raised to strike. Just before they would have collided, Jahrin stopped and hurled his sledge, metal head forward.

The heavy weapon smashed into the Bloodsworn's mouth, shattering his jaw into dust and crushing his throat. His momentum stopped in an instant.

Jahrin leapt forward to scoop the great sledge from mid-air as it fell. He flowed into a spinning strike underneath a hook-whip and shattered another Bloodsworn's knee.

A third Bloodsworn male swept his curved daggers toward Jahrin's back.

Lyllithe launched a flurry of starbursts that seared the man's legs, slowing his reactions. Jahrin jammed the butt of his hammer haft into the man's throat and left him to suffocate.

But still more of the wild men ran up the hillside.

Josephine blocked the jagged edges of glasteel swords and curved daggers, slamming her hammer down on any foes that came within reach.