The streets were a chaotic battlefield as Daemon, Daenys, and Calen fought their way through a relentless horde of undead. The air was thick with the stench of death, and the sounds of clashing swords and anguished cries filled the air.
Their hearts raced, adrenaline pumping through their veins as they navigated through the throng of enemies. Each swing of their weapons was a dance of survival, fueled by determination and a fierce desire to protect the innocent.
Daenys used her lightning magic to immobile the undead while Calen and Daemon used their sword arts to shatter them.
They were a trio of prodigies, closely knitted and working as one. The undead were no match for the strength of the three of them combined.
Daenys's mind was focused solely on her task as she unleashed another blast of lightning magic, and the bodies of the undead convulsed and collapsed to the ground.
"I guess what they say about Zadkiels are indeed true," Calen said, smashing an undead's head with the back of his sword. There was a faint sound of metal hitting rock as the undead died again. "You guys are indeed prodigies. I'm just glad you can keep up with me." He smiled at Daemon, where's Daemon just paused on his track and looked at him with a smile on his face.
"Keep up with you?" He asked. "Oh, you mean you're glad that we tagged along or else you would've already been dead. Or is that what you meant?" he said, his smile getting wider as he walked past Calen.
Calen turned and ran after Daemon. "Hey, you know, I'm quite proud of myself for keeping you two safe. So be grateful."
"Excuse me?!" Daemon asked, incredulously.
"Calm down, Daemon," Daenys said as she walked by them, chuckling, "I'm sure Calen is only teasing."
Calen shook his head. "No. No. If it was only me, I would've already reached my destination. It's because of you guys I'm slowing down."
That in fact was true but even if he were to go back in time, he wouldn't stop himself from bringing them with him as he was sure he needed much of his power and stamina when he meets his sister, that is if she was in any danger or something.
Calen wiped the sweat from his brow, a smirk forming on his face. "I bet I took down more undead than you, Daemon."
Daemon scoffed, twirling his sword in his hand. "Oh, please. You couldn't even keep up with my pace. I'm sure I've surpassed your count by now."
Daenys chuckled, amused by their friendly competition. "Alright, boys, enough boasting. Let's settle this. We'll tally up the numbers once we're done here."
Calen nodded, his competitive spirit ignited. "Deal. But I warn you, Daemon, you won't stand a chance against me."
Daemon rolled his eyes playfully. "We'll see about that, Calen. Prepare to be amazed."
With renewed determination, the two warriors dove back into the battle, each one eager to prove their skills and outshine the other. Their swords sliced through the undead with precision and grace, their movements becoming a synchronized dance of destruction.
Calen leaped into the air, his sword slashing through multiple undead in a single motion. "One!" he shouted triumphantly, keeping a mental tally of his kills.
Daemon smirked, spinning around and taking down several undead with a swift series of strikes. "Two!" he called out, his voice filled with confidence.
The banter continued as they fought their way through the horde, their friendly rivalry pushing them to new heights. They dodged and parried, their swords becoming an extension of themselves as they sought to outdo one another.
Calen chuckled, landing a powerful blow that sent an undead flying. "Four! I'm on fire!"
Daemon grinned, swiftly dispatching a group of undead with a flurry of attacks. "Five! Catching up, aren't you?"
The battle intensified, and their kill counts continued to rise. With each fallen undead, their excitement grew, fueling their determination to surpass the other. They weaved through the chaos, their movements fluid and precise.
Calen's laughter echoed through the streets. "Ten! I'm unbeatable!"
Daemon's eyes gleamed with competitive fire. "Eleven! Don't get too comfortable, Calen."
But amidst the chaos, a chilling roar pierced the cacophony of combat, freezing them in their tracks.
The ground trembled beneath their feet, the vibrations sending shivers up their spines. With wide eyes, they turned their gaze towards the source of the deafening sound, their hearts sinking as they beheld the terrifying sight before them.
"Dragon?!" Daemon asked, gasping at the monstrosity.
"No," Calen replied, his pupils shaking. "Dragons have four limbs, it only has two. It's not a dragon, it is a-"
"Wyvern!" Daenys was more of impressed than terrified. Her eyes were actually twinkling, a rather contrast to her brother and the hero.
Hovering above the blood-soaked streets was a creature of nightmares—a monstrous undead wyvern. Its sheer size was awe-inspiring, its scaled body stretching out like a sinister shadow against the darkened sky. The once majestic wings were now tattered and torn, hanging limply at its sides.
Its scales, cracked and rotten, glistened with putrid fluids that oozed from its decaying form. But it was the wyvern's eyes that held their attention the most. Glowing with an unnatural blue fire, they seemed to pierce through the darkness, radiating an otherworldly malevolence.
Calen's heart pounded in his chest as his gaze swept over the crowd of people trapped near the wyvern's monstrous presence. His eyes locked onto the familiar figure of his sister, Celeste, her face etched with fear and determination.
"Celeste!" Calen's voice cracked with desperation as he called out to her. His heart clenched at the sight of her in danger, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive.
The weight of the situation settled heavily upon them. They knew they had to act swiftly to save Celeste and the others from the wyvern's deadly grasp. Without a moment's hesitation, they charged towards the colossal beast, their weapons gleaming in the pale moonlight.
This content is taken from (f)reewe(b)novel.𝗰𝗼𝐦