Unlikely defender

All Rumius saw was a flash of blinding white light as the shining point sped toward him. It was like a bullet, complete with the speed and the certainty of death on hit. That was when a boom rattled his ears as a red flash intercepted the white midway and twisted its trajectory away. 

A sudden force struck Rumius in the chest, sending him sprawling backward as he quickly found his back on the ground. There was a taste of iron on his lips, and when he shook his head to clear the stars, he realised that his hand was stained red. 

Rumius lifted his hand from his torso, and realised, a split second later, that his shirt was dyed in the same rusty colour. 

It hurts. It hurts…

Rumius could feel his lips quivering. There was a very sickening feeling spreading in his stomach that he wished would go away. 

No. No, oh shit. Shit, oh shit. 

Rumius's breaths came out in short gasps as he pulled up his damp shirt to reveal…a pale stomach. The skin was covered in a thin layer of blood, but was otherwise intact, uncut.

Wait, this isn't my blood.

CLAAANGG!

SCREEEECHH!!!

A sound pulled Rumius's attention as he saw a furious, white and black maelstrom of sparks and flashes. His jaw went slack.

Their actions… I can't see them at all…

Try as he might, all he could catch were momentary glimpses of their weapons as they reflected the sunlight as they were swung. A red jab shot through the air, as fast as an arrow but in the last instant, suddenly pulled away and descended as a vicious cut! However, the white twirling flash was ready. The blade moved in an arc, and in a shower of sparks, gracefully knocked the blow aside.

Rumius's jaw was slack, his mind completely entranced as both sides rained blow after blow in a dance of death. At last, black figure skipped back, creating distance. The assassin rushed up with his sword hand in a long swing that used his entire arm length, likely meaning to catch her in the legs.

The demonic warrioress spun around the attempt and twisted her torso, a powerful wind-up. Her blade became a red arc as it curved upwards and caught the assassin in the jaw, tearing through his face, veil, and bone. Rumius watched in muted terror as blood spurted away in a hideous arc and as the assassin crumpled with a crunch, crimson pooling around him. The duel had ended in a brutal conclusion. 

There was a moment of silence as Rumius simply stared at the expanding conquest of the crimson tide across the ground. His mind was empty. There was a dull roaring in the background until a powerful force found itself in its armpit and pulled him to his feet. Rumius stood shakily on his legs which had gone as soft as noodles while looking up at the displeased expression before him.

" Tch…and this is why I told you to stay back. Why didn't you listen? You hurt anywhere?" The demon lady asked. Her petite but calloused hands patted and dusted his shoulders off as she inspected him with her There was a strange genuine worry in her voice that Rumius wasn't expecting. 

" I-I'm fine. Thank y-." The words died in his throat as his keen eyes caught sight of the bloody mess that was his defender's left forearm. It was her off-hand, the one that she didn't use to wield her weapon.

The black leather had been torn apart, no doubt by a powerful blow from a sharp blade, and the wound underneath was an angry mess of flesh that looked as if it had been cut by a chainsaw. The wound was deep and the blood trickled in a steady stream down her forearm, down one of her fingers, and made it to the tip before dripping onto the ground. The skin on her arm hung off like peeling wallpaper and when Rumius's eyes floated further down, a chilling sight made his blood run cold. 

A hole, the width of a billiard stick had found itself in her side, and slowly but surely, she was leaking lifeblood. The blood-stained her combat pants, making it somehow even darker than it had been. Or perhaps Rumius was just imagining things. 

The urge to apologise was caught up in his throat by a suffocating feeling of hurt and anguish. What would apologies do? 

And it was all because of me. It was all because I was being arrogant. 

I did this. Rumius realised in horror

" I-I-I'm sorry.." Rumius stammered. 

The lady frowned and looked down, tracing his line of sight. 

" Ohh." 

" No need to be sorry. It's just a flesh wound. Doesn't look like it will last too long." She waved her hands nonchalantly.

Before Rumius could ask what she meant by that, his eyes were alerted to a sudden and unexpected phenomenon. 

From the outside, it was akin to seeing bubbles surfacing from the top of a drink that someone was blowing into. Large red spheres rose and burst intermittently and in uneven spots all over the length of the wound. They rose higher and higher, becoming closer and closer as if the area for them to evolve was shrinking by the instant. 

Before Rumius could afford to blink twice, the wound on the demon lady's arm had closed and the wound on her stomach was following suit. 

" Haha. Surprised? I suppose to humans, this wouldn't be normal. We have no need for the sorcery that you call regenerative magic. You should keep that in mind next time you do combat with one of us." She chided as she crouched down and reached for an unstained part of the fallen assassin's robe. Wiping off her blade on the fabric, she returned the weapon to an inconspicuous sheathe. The blade was rendered almost invisible. 

" Come." She instructed. 

Rumius instinctively felt the urge to follow and eventually, he let his feet trace hers. He looked around as he walked, taking in the sight of the massacre that had taken place. Whatever…whorever actually …had ambushed him, had all met quite a grisly end.

And only now as he walked among this field of dead did the terrifying realisation of how closely he had come to getting murdered dawn on him with certainty. The thought made Rumius swallow hard out of fear and despair. Any delusions he had had about being strong because of magic had been thoroughly trampled and stamped out. 

Rumius heaved a sigh as he looked down at a nearby carcass. 

Who even were these people? 

As the lady stopped to gather her shadow summons, Rumius halted several metres away. He inched closer to a fallen assassin and prodded him with his boot. When the body lay lifeless and cold, Rumius got slightly closer but was loathe to touch it. However, he felt like he needed information as to who had attacked him, and where better to find that information right now?

His heart was still pounding and as he began to calm down, after circling several rounds around the dead body and not gaining any insights, his attention shifted to the lady who was amiably praising her shadows, the latter who were standing silently at attention and gave her no reply. 

Who is she? 

Why did she help me?

The questions came one after another without rest. The thought of a hidden agenda crossed his mind. But so did the certainty of knowing that there wasn't anything he could probably do about it. There were more important questions that needed to be answered. 

.....

Why would these people want to kill me, and she, want to defend me?

....

I can think of two reasons, but both would be best served if I could ask master about them. Rumius thought. 

That was when he realised how low the chances were of being able to meet his master again soon.

Thats right…I don't know where she is. And neither does she know where I am.

I was supposed to wait for her back at the inn. But if she came back to an empty room, she would think that I have disobeyed her and gone off elsewhere. 

Would she search for me?

….Pfft. 

Right.

But if so. What should I do now? Go back to the inn? What if Master's not there? 

What master isn't there and whoever tried to get me killed…

The thought of someone out for his life gave him pause as chills ran down his spine so instantaneously, it was as if a trigger had been flipped.

Rumius's hands instantly became wet with sweat. 

What if master isn't there and whoever tried to get me killed decided to go for round two? 

What then? 

I can't win. I'm not delusional enough to believe so anymore. And expecting someone else to step in is ridiculous, like any demon would do that. 

Master said that they have basically no interest in teamwork. So helping strangers is out of the question. 

Not to mention competency.

But that means that…

Rumius flashed a glance to the side where the demon lady was still talking to her soldiers. Strangely, there seemed to be less of them now, and not just because some of them had been felled in the recent battle. 

Rumius watched in shock as in a flash, or in a shadow, one of the minions, so dark as if woven from the fabric of night, was sucked into the lady's outstretched hand. Without missing a beat, she moved on and continued to the next shadow in line, giving it a sort of pep talk before sucking it up as well. 

Shaking his head in disbelief, Rumius organised his thoughts surrounding the mysterious lady. He barely knew anything about her, only that she was an amazing fighter with strange, but insane magic. 

Temporarily, just for now, she's not trying to kill me. 

But how much of that means that she's on my side? 

Rumius looked up as the lady finished sucking up the last of her minions and approached him. Amiably, she smiled. Rumius couldn't see her grin as he mouth was covered, but the expression showed in her eyes and brows. 

Rumius couldn't help but feel somewhat at ease by her friendliness, no matter how much he told himself to remember his master's words. 

Demons are our natural predators. 

Demons are our natural…

Natural…

Rumius bowed. 

" Thank you. I owe you my life." He said, as sincere as he could muster. She saved his life. Whether she was out for his life or not in the future, he still owed her his most sincere gratitude.

The lady maintained her smile as she said:" I believe introductions are in order." 

" Let me start. I am Griselle, a simple passing traveller." 

" And you ?"