Chapter 14

The serpent struck out, its mouth wide open and drenched in splattering venom. High up around one of its fangs, touching the roof of its mouth, was a ring made of glass. Mist flowed through its interiors, ethereal and fleeting. It was so hard to take his eyes off it, and Dane struggled. It was the relic. Before anyone could react, its fangs sunk into a soldier's shoulder, almost tearing him apart. Then, its tail uncoiled at blurring speeds and swept out in an arc around it.

Dane broke out of his trance and ducked flat on his belly. The others weren't as fast. Its tail seemed to glint as it swept across a group of four men. Instead of smashing into them, it sliced through them like butter. Sir brandished at the creature's face with his sword. The steel was covered in fire. It left a deep scorch on its face and scared its metallic head. He stared at the creature's limp tail as the Tyrant hissed and lashed at the fiery knight and Atticus.

Dane raised his sword arm and swung at it. It bounced off harmlessly with a loud ring. He struck again, and the same happened again. He looked at his sword incredulously. It had lost its edge, and the metal had chipped and cracked, becoming impossibly brittle. Maybe it was because he had heated the blade, he considered. No. He had checked his sword earlier while resting. Its edge remained and was still sturdy, if a bit weaker.

A man beside him exclaimed, terror in his eyes, "My sword! It's not sharp!"

Dread filled Dane's heart as he got up and inched backward slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible. His hands trembled. He was going to die, he realized. Dane clenched the hilt tightly and steeled himself, stamping out the fear with a will.

"Its ability makes our weapons blunt and brittle!" he cried out loudly when he was out of its tail's reach. The Tyrant bit at Atticus's sword and tugged at it, pulling it out of his hands. Atticus jumped backward, and the sword in its mouth dissolved into nothingness. He pulled it out from his sheath again. As it resumed its attack on the knight, the other soldiers moved to regroup with Dane, and some split off to help the knight and the priest. Some ignored his warning, drunk on adrenaline. They continued to attack it with their useless weapons.

Dane froze when its gaze stopped on him and his group for a second as it recoiled from a strike of Sir's blade. Those eyes were dangerously intelligent, unlike any Nightmare Creature he had ever heard of. Its eyes were so human.

He breathed in deeply and frowned. The Tyrant had not whipped its tail at them again when they struck it, he noticed, even though it would have been all too easy, though it stared at them murderously.

A flash of silver slithered toward him rapidly. He positioned his sword between him and it. A minion serpent pounced at him with bared fangs. It hissed, and blue venom sprayed from its mouth toward his eyes. Dane jumped to the side, rolling away.

It shifted and slithered to his feet. Dane moved his foot as it bit, barely avoiding it. He swung his sword, hitting it square across its body, and sent it flying. The Tyrant's tail whizzed and pierced a man through his heart. It lifted him and flicked. The man's body flew toward another, knocking him off balance. It moved again, catching a man's leg and coiling around it. It moved so unnaturally, Dane thought. It was as if its tail had had a mind of its own…but its head had stopped attacking the knight, who huffed and puffed.

Dane focused on its long body and pierced the veil surrounding it. Under its body were six tenebrous cores of darkness, cancerous veins spread through its soul sickeningly. Dane almost dropped his sword, gasping…that was a Terror. His heart hammered against his heart, begging him to run away. He could not, he told himself. His eyes squinted at its soul.

Strangely, its soul barely covered half of its body, concentrated on its lower body and tail. At the same time, Sir summoned balls of fire and threw them at its face. Immediately, its soul quivered and rushed to its upper body. It twisted impossibly, dodging each of them, and spat venom at the knight in response. Some of the persistent soldiers took the opportunity to run, and the captured man also escaped, two others pulling him from its grip.

Atticus attacked from the side, lunging at its body with his sword at the ready. The serpent was too twisted to dodge, and Atticus' sword pierced the metallic scales. Sapphire blood dripped from its wound. The ophidian shook vigorously, lifting Atticus in the air and throwing him away. The priest crashed into a wall on the far side of the hall.

It disengaged from the knight, coiling its upper body around the lower and springing toward Dane's group. Two terrible blue eyes locked with Dane's eyes, oozing with murderous lust. It moved in a blur, and Dane's hand moved before he could think. He grabbed hold of a man. He was a young lad, Dane saw, barely sixteen. Younger than Dane. He threw him forward and jumped backward as the creature's fangs sank into the man's throat. His blood oozed out of his punctured neck, already black.

"I'm sorry…but you're not real," he whispered.

The legacy dropped his sword and cautiously lowered himself to the ground while walking backward. His hand scrambled through the floor until something sharp dug into his skin. He looked down, finding a long piece of stained glass. It had a sharp edge.

The legacy raised his voice.

"Sir! Hold it back. Focus all your fire on its head! Soldiers, drop your weapons and pick up the glass! It's as sharp a thing as you'll get here!" he shouted. The knight glanced at him and raised his brow, sweat dripping down it. Dane nodded at him, a fire in his eyes. Yet, there was also fear in his eyes that the knight did not miss.

Dane chose not to tell him about the serpent's class. He did not want to break his resolve.

"Obey him!" the knight ordered loudly as he lunged at the Terror. He threw ball after ball of fire from behind. The serpent braved the fire, letting it scorch as it slithered through the smoke. It spat more venom at the knight, but the Awakened summoned more fire and intercepted the toxin. They met. His sword flashed, and the Terror's fang, long as a dagger, clashed against it.

It clasped its mouth shut and pulled at the Awakened. Wisps of fire appeared on his hands as he abandoned the sword and clutched its head with all he had. The scales turned red as he pressed his hands into its flesh. Its eyes burned with rage as it craned its neck upward and smashed downward.

Atticus had gotten up. Blood stained his face and clothes, and he walked with a limp. He held his sword out in front of him, ready to waltz back into the heat of the battle. Dane put a hand on his shoulder.

"I have a plan," he told the priest.