Heart of Ash (The Dark Arcane Series: Book 1)

Chapter Forty Five

The cavalry stormed through the trees with hell at their heels, and Yeona brandishing her spear with godslike ferocity. She yelled something and her soldiers repeated it. A battle cry fit for war.

They were a glorious sight to behold, from King Yeona's silver scaled armour that ran to her elbows and then stopped to give way to the bright green cloth underneath, to the pointed helmets that ended with a feather of a matching green. Her helmet curved down between her eyes but left the rest of her face bare, revealing the snarling face within.

Ashyn didn't have time to wonder why or how they were here, only that they were.

The odds had been adjusted, and the rules altered. They had a godsdamned chance.

She turned on another opponent, their blades meeting with a whine.

Then the horn blew for the first time. Soldiers had reached the tree.

She continued fighting, grunting as she took a cut to her shoulder. Her blade was just short enough to hinder her slightly. Hell, she couldn't blame the sword; she just didn't like using swords.

Each dark silver armour suit was replaced with another. She saw no faces, no lives, only foe waiting to be felled.

.

Kade fought with anxiety bursting from his fingertips. He was faster than them, and he was stronger, but somewhere in the mass of soldiers was the Captain.

He was watching, he knew he was, could feel the weight on his neck.

Each face he killed would be one more person who would never wake to see the sun rise, would never hear the long grass chitter, but above it all, they would never be able to destroy the Tegye San.

So, he brought his double swords down upon them with the brutal efficiency the Captain drilled into him, and he rained blows into the soldiers so hard they stumbled.

He watched realisation dawn in their eyes when they knew they were outmatched, and the downturn of their mouths as they struggled to live.

They had trained under the same flag he did, but he was raised in the castle, under the Captain's watchful eye, not in a camp in a field, leagues away from the bloody city. He'd grown up with the devil breathing down his neck.

Kade's blade met theirs with a clash that was lost in the myriad of noise. They tried to twist his sword out of his hand but he twisted with it, whirling round to attack them on the other side. Metal clanged again.

Fear was not for city burners and unmakers and world stealers.

But even so, he felt an ungodly amount of fear as he slid his sword through the soldier's body in single a clean strike. They fell and he moved onto the next one.

The familiar weighted pressure that told him an Elite was here settled in his senses. He searched for the culprit who smiled when their eyes met. Temas.

The man with wolf eyes made a grand show of pointing his sword at Kade, his smile growing wider, nastier.

A challenge had been made.

Not willing to let this slide, Kade snarled, jerking his head up in invitation. Anyone else who crossed blades with Temas would die, but he and Kade were of the same blood, both torn from the same tattered cloth. The ground would shake when they fought, as it should.

Kade barely saw the next six people he cut down like wheat, eyes fixed on Temas as they made their way to each other.

"Greetings, K," Temas made a mock salute. He bore no injuries from his fighting, but then he wouldn't.