Dangerous fight

Moloan also recognized her almost boyfriend's predicament. She angrily fired a few shots towards the archer's hiding position, not caring for the wasted mana.

The three ambushers, who ran towards the squad of recruits had slowed down after Moloan's earlier shots. Now that the gunner was distracted, they this was their best opportunity to close the distance.

Just as they managed to get into close range, another spell left the healer's hands. An uneasy feeling settled in their stomachs; The healer's life spending spells were like a death timer to them. If everyone could get back into fighting condition, their already slim chances would be extinguished completely.

Emantarel felt a warm current enveloping his right leg. A lifesaving force caressed his wounds just in time.

A loud shout suddenly rattled the young man's battered eardrums:

"This is all YOUR fault! You KILLED my brother. You white-robed piece of sh*t!"

Following this anger laden exclamation was a wild flurry of spear strikes aimed at Emantarel's heart. The young recruit struggled to defend himself with his weak left hand. Now faced with multiple enemies, his team mates also temporarily couldn't help him.

Even more flustered by Emantarel's predicament than the young man himself, Moloan didn't manage to quickly dispose of her opponent and even received a few shallow cuts.

Meanwhile, the archer just waited for Emantarel to make a mistake. If he wasn't blocked by Lorn's body additional attacks would have already reached the young recruit.

Suddenly the inevitable happened. Just as Emantarel wanted to block another spear attack, his arm twitched again. The spear tip shot through his defense. Only a fast step towards the right saved the young recruit. But a bloody wound still appeared on his waist.

Emantarel knew he couldn't continue like this. He grit his teeth as he closed the distance towards Lorn. An act of desperation. The spear tip was now besides his body. One powerful swing could fatally injure him.

The young recruit ignored the threat. Praying for the God of Light's blessing, his sword shot forward. Lorn was ready to trade injury for defeat. The criminal raised his arm, wanting to stop the incoming attack. Meanwhile his spear rapidly approached Emantarel again.

Everyone was shocked. In their minds this was the moment a white-robe would die here. Moloan panicked.

The sword tip would cut into the arm any moment now. Afterwards a spear would penetrate a soldier's side. No one could imagine any other outcome. No one but Emantarel.

The young man remembered his training over the last few weeks. He learned to accept his injured arm as a part of himself. He tried to use it to his advantage. He never managed to do so. But in this moment of life and death his body followed his wishes.

Suddenly as the sword shot forward, Emantarel's arm moved weirdly. For others the sword tip followed an unpredictable trajectory. An unbelieving look appeared in Lorn's eyes. He only felt a light cut on his arm. Certain of victory he couldn't wait to feel his spear tip cutting apart the hated enemy in front of him.

Unfortunately, this moment never came. The sword suddenly shot downward at an unsuspected speed. It perfectly plunged into the criminal's heart. Life immediately left the man's eyes. As a simple expert he wasn't strong enough yet to ignore such a blow.

The spear's power also diminished. Its momentum didn't carry it far. It reached Emantarel, but had no power left to pierce the young man's skin.

Silence reigned for a moment in the eerie darkness. Lorn's body didn't have any strength left. With a loud thud he dropped to the ground. A loud ringing followed as his spear also landed on the ground. This was the sound of defeat.

Emantarel body shook. This was the first time he killed a human. Disgust threatened to overwhelm him. Fortunately, his mind was already prepared for this moment. His sense of duty didn't allow him to succumb to his instincts now.

Repeatedly praying to the God of Light to support his mind, Emantarel frantically observed his surroundings. He hadn't forgotten about the hiding archer. Suddenly there was movement not far from them.

Emantarel raised his sword in preparation. He quivered lightly as a familiar touch embraced his hands. If it was anyone else the young recruit might have instantly struck out with his sword. Luckily his brain recognized Moloan's caring hand, as her thumb caressed the back of his hand.

"It is over. We won.", whispered the young woman lightly.

Only now did Emantarel's tension fall off and he gained a clear view of the situation. Obviously his first kill shocked him more than he thought.

He recognized their enemies on the ground. They had holes in their chests, slipping in and out of unconsciousness. It was uncertain if they would make it back alive.

Emantarel didn't pity them, however. If they were simple blasphemers' death would be slightly harsh for them. But after ambushing the Luminous Army they deserved everything they got.

The young man smiled gratefully at Moloan as the young woman took her hand away. Despite not being able to see each other clearly, their eyes connected in the darkness. A pleasant warmth replaced the Frozen Hell's endless coldness for a moment.

The harmonious atmosphere was unfortunately broken a second later, when steps sounded from the distance.

Soon a few white robes entered the team's vision. Emantarel let out a sigh in relief when he recognized the leading officer. As his attention turned towards their incoming reinforcement, he quickly noticed something being dragged in the veteran's hand.

The young recruit drew a sharp breath. A one-armed human body left a trail of blood on the ground. His face was contorted in hate and rage. It looked somehow unnatural with protruding veins and a weirdly dark skin.

Not being able to recognize any colors through his SMT, it took the young man a few seconds to piece together what might have happened. But he soon understood that the criminal must have used some sort of poison to suicide.

A frown appeared on Emantarel's face. All of this didn't appear like a standard mission anymore. Which harmless criminal would carry a bomb or poison with them? The young recruit hoped for the officer to clear his doubts, but judging from the man's solemn face, he was also surprised by everything that happened.

Soon the reinforcements gathered together with Emantarel's team. The uninjured group stood in stark contrast to the badly damaged squad. Even now the healer still did her job in treating the seriously wounded recruit's injuries.

Since the man was too close to the shockwave, his body received the most damage of them all. Despite their healer's best efforts, his injuries were probably beyond her capabilities.

The officer mustered the situation with a calm face. While stepping forward and handing out a pill, the man put out orders:

"Stabilize him as good as possible! We need to return quickly if we want to save his leg. Number 4 and 5, support him! Everyone else carry the corpse! We will be leaving in two minutes. Number one, report!"

If the officer knew anything he obviously wouldn't deign to explain himself. Despite his curiosity Emantarel could only follow orders and report everything that happened to the officer. Anger appeared on the man's face when he heard about the bomb, but he gave nothing else away.

After two minutes the recruits made their way back. Despite the exhausting fight, no one dared to complain. Even the wounded kept up discipline as they followed the officer.

Finally, the squad reached the base camp after a hour long mission. Confused gazes scrutinized them as they made their way through the army's area. Everyone could tell that this standard mission somehow went wrong while the squad disappeared in the medical station.

Fortunately, most of them only needed some smaller treatments. Thus, Emantarel could soon happily eat a sumptuous meal together with Moloan. A harmonious atmosphere surrounded them as the two youngsters shared a few peaceful moments.

Despite some ambiguity from both sides, they were already a couple in many other recruits' eyes. Only the both of them had never confirmed anything.

Probably because they knew each other for so long. The had been friends ever since they had both begun training under Captain Kaquir.

Therefore, it was hard to tell when friendship turned into romance.

Unfortunately, today was not the day. Too much had happened and Emantarel as well as Moloan still had to digest the fight. Thus, they dutifully compiled a report for the higher-ups before taking some much-needed rest.

Shortly before he fell asleep Emantarel onca again remembered the moment his sword entered another man's heart. But he didn't think about the criminal's death. He thought about the movement leading to it.

As he had finally managed to control his twitching arm for the first time, the young man knew he had created his own technique. He realized that this would bring many new opportunities for him. Imagining a rosy future Emantarel quietly slipped into sleep.