The Raider's Spirit - Part 6

The sword did feel awkward in Vol's hands, the more he swung it. It felt like he fatigued faster with it than he did with an axe. Like it responded more slowly to his intentions. But it didn't matter. He split apart a man's legs, gauging through the thick shin bone, and ignoring his squeal. He thrust the point of his sword through the man's neck to finish it.

He checked the timer out of the corner of his eye. Fifteen seconds left. Fifteen comfortable seconds, perhaps?

But then the Syndrans began to withdraw. They must have slain near fifty themselves, judging by the corpses that remained once the soldiers finally began to step back. Someone took command, someone with a true soldier's authority, and sensible ideas.

"MAKE WAY! TO THE SIDES! BACK RANKS FILTER OUT! MAKE WAY!" A man shouted. From somewhere, he'd sequestered a horse. Vol knew that there were stables, but he hadn't seen any horses amongst them.