Chapter 21: War Part 12 - Feral
The ground cracked beneath Lucy's boots with a sound like splintering bone as he narrowly dodged another savage swipe from the tigress general's claws—each one curved and gleaming, large enough to flay flesh from bone.
She moved like a boulder wrapped in lightning: massive, fast, and utterly merciless.
The acrid scent of scorched earth and copper-tang of blood filled his nostrils as he pivoted.
Beside him, Tara flickered in and out of view, her movements sharp and slicing through the smoky air. She struck low, aiming for tendons and weak spots, her claws gleaming with silver mana that left luminous trails in the dim light. But every blow she landed skidded off that striped hide with a metallic scrape, drawing only deeper growls from the beast—sounds that vibrated through the very ground beneath them.
"We're not even scratching her," Lucy muttered, breath ragged as he stumbled back a few feet. His cloak clung to him, soaked and heavy with blood—some his, some not—the fabric making wet sucking sounds with each movement.
"Then stop aiming to scratch," Tara snapped, appearing beside him in a burst of speed that displaced the air with a soft whoosh. Her golden eyes gleamed like twin blades in the half-light, pupils narrow with focus. "Aim to maim."
"You're one to talk—you just scratched her!" Lucy shot back, the words burning his dry throat.
She cut him a glare and a low growl that rumbled from deep in her chest before vanishing again with that distinctive whisper of displaced air.
'Use your words next time,' Lucy thought grimly, then refocused, blinking away the sweat that stung his eyes.
The two generals clashed before him, their strikes shrieking through the smoky, magic-thick air like metal on metal.
Lucy waited, tense and coiled, muscles burning with exertion as he searched for an opening. Tara, even heavily injured, moved so fast she was nearly a blur of gold and shadow.