Chapter 97: THE DEMON KING JOINS (3)
It slithered around the woman’s ankles, so secretively that she did not notice. By the time she was throwing another attack, her feet had been firmly gripped, and she fell to the ground with a thud.
Something was odd, though, Varziel could not help but notice that these two attackers were not trying to overwhelm him.
No.
They were stalling.
But stalling for what?
He did not have the time to think as a hum behind him pulled him out of his thoughts. He turned to the first attacker, blocking his curved blade. His muscles burned as he pushed back against the strength behind the curved blade. The armored warrior leaned into the clash, pressing Varziel closer to the ice barrier.
It was then that he realized that the hum he’d heard wasn’t from the sword itself—it was coming from the air around them, like the buildup before a spell detonated.
Varziel’s instincts screamed at him to move and he pushed off the attacker with a grunt. He twisted his broadsword, sliding the curve of the enemy’s blade off to the side, and threw himself backward just as a sharp whistle cut through the air.
There was a low thud and Varziel looked back at where he had just been standing. A spear an unfamiliar spear, had embedded itself in the ice where his chest had been a moment before. The shaft was smooth and black, the tip humming with that same faint blue light, much like the warrior’s sword.
Varziel’s gaze snapped up, following the trajectory of the throw.
Perched on the roof’s edge, another attacker squatted, crouched low. This one was smaller and much more wiry compared to the other attackers and moved like a shadow. They wore the same segmented armor, though lighter, with cloth panels fluttering around their waist. A hood obscured their features, but Varziel caught the glint of another mask beneath it—white, smooth, expressionless except for a painted red slash across where the mouth should have been.