Chapter 45: A Friend Like Leywin
The first gargoyle lunged, its stone claws aiming to turn Corven’s face into a shredded mess.
SWISH.
Corven ducked under the attack, body still limber from the earlier fight. The blood he drank had kicked his reflexes up just enough.
"I can’t fight back in this state!"
Another charged in from the left.
SWISH.
Then another, from behind.
WHOOSH.
Corven was stuck on the defensive. He twisted and dodged, narrowly avoiding each strike. His bone rapier was practically useless against their stone bodies, and though he could craft another weapon—something blunt—there just wasn’t enough time.
Judging by the gargoyles’ speed and sheer numbers, even with the right weapon, fighting head-on would be suicide.
BOOM.
Another landed hard beside him, claws gouging into the stone floor where he had just stood.