Chapter 43
Equipped with axes, shields, rough chainmail, and helmets, the Ghouls Tooth gang looked more like soldiers than members of a local gang. Under Garretts direction, they had spent every last copper they had on outfitting themselves with weapons and armor, trying to increase their survivability as much as possible. Though their chainmail was old and in many cases starting to show spots of rust, so far it was doing its job of turning aside the short spears and blades of the Swamp Sharks.
On the other side of the spectrum, the Swamp Sharks barely had a single piece of armor between them. It was a capital offense for gang members to be found with armor, since it could be seen as a direct challenge to the crown, so gangs tended to avoid wearing it as much as possible. Furthermore, the Swamp Sharks tended to operate on the water a lot, where chainmail was nothing more than a guaranteed trip to the bottom of the river if you fell in.
That meant, though, that every time a Ghouls Tooth axe fell, the Swamp Sharks would feel the pain of their skin being split or worse. There were so many enemies that the ones closest to the front line were constantly being pushed forward into the waiting blades of the Ghouls Tooth gang, to the point that the fifteen men were starting to grow tired from swinging their axes. More bodies began to pile up and Ryn, remembering her role in this fight, called out to the gang members with the crossbows.
Group one, switch!
The five men who had just loaded their crossbows placed them down, picked up their axes and shields, and rushed forward to replace the five men who were falling back. Fresh compared to the men who were retreating, the five men in group one spread out along the battle line, swinging their axes with force to push the enemy back, taking some of the pressure off their companions. Group one dropped their shields and axes and picked up the loaded crossbows, sending the bolts into the tightly packed enemy before starting to load them again.
For the last two days the inn had been closed and the great room cleared as Garrett made them practice their formations over and over again. The constant drilling had been tough, but nothing compared to an actual battle, and now as their bodies naturally reacted to the orders Ryn was calling out, they were undeniably grateful for the difficulty theyd gone through. Follow current novels on novelb((in).(com)
Each bolt that ripped into the crowd dealt tremendous damage, destroying flesh, bone, and morale alike. Though there were only five crossbows, the regular twang of their strings caused the Swamp Sharks to flinch every time, killing their momentum and making them hesitate to press forward. Dead and dying lay thick on the ground, but the Ghouls Tooth gang had yet to lose a single person. Almost all of them were wounded, but rather than slow down, their wounds only seemed to make them fight more aggressively.
In the center of the battlefield, Hollice and Obe were still duking it out with reckless abandon. Each smashing blow that Hollice threw was dodged or deflected by Obe who wasnt shy about launching attacks of his own. Both of them were skilled fighters, but their styles were well matched and neither was able to get any advantage over the other. Obe fought defensively overall, since Vic was still lurking at the back of his forces, urging them forward. At the back of the Swamp Sharks, the gang boss was grinding his teeth, furious at the way the fight was going. He wanted to charge forward and attack, but the sight of Garrett sitting at the back of the crowd gave him pause.
He couldnt shake the feeling that the battlefield, which had turned into a stalemate, was primed for a change, but he had no idea how or where it would come. Garretts calmness when theyd last met had left a strong impression on him, making him think the young man had something up his sleeve. Glancing backward, his eyes caught a flash of color near the floor, but before he could look closer a figure stalked out of the passageway, a black cloak covering his body.
The hood of the cloak was pulled up, hiding most of his face, but the bloodthirsty air that surrounded him couldnt be hidden. As he walked forward the cloak he wore shifted, allowing Vic to get a glimpse of a bloody cleaver. Blood drained from his face as he realized who had appeared and he lifted his sword. Long and narrow with a basket hilt, his rapier was feared for its dizzying attacks, but going up against Henricks simple slashes set his heart fluttering.
I should have known this was a trap, Vic snarled, dashing toward Henrick.
His blade flickered in the torchlight, seeming to appear and disappear as it stabbed toward Henrick. Moving toward his enemys heart, Vic switched targets at the last moment, the tip of his blade shooting up toward Henricks throat at an impossible angle. Just when he thought he might actually score a hit, Henricks cleaver moved like lightning, drawing a silver line across the air. Ducking to avoid having his head removed, Vic changed his stab to a slash as he slid past Henricks side.
About to give the command to charge, Vic was stunned when Henrick suddenly moved, dashing into the thick crowd of Swamp Shark gang members. His cleaver rose and fell twice, slicing through whole swaths of terrified men. As blood splattered, he charged across the newly cleared path like a bulldozer. Letting out a roar of rage, Hollice lifted her war pick and hacked out toward him, only to see him lift his other arm that had been hidden under his cloak. As his cloak fell back, the hooked claw on the end of his arm was revealed for all to see and terrified screams rang out.
Blocking her attack with his hook, Henrick returned a slash, intending to take her head off. Just before his cleaver could reach her a silver blade stabbed into his neck, intending to punch through his throat. With a tsk Henrick diverted his attack, using the change in momentum to pull his body out of the way. As the silver blade cut through the top of his shoulder, he hacked out with his claw, trying to rip Vics stomach open. Seeing him attack her boss, Hollice erupted with strength and brought down her war pick toward the top of his skull, intending to pierce straight through.
Annoying!
Dodging to the side, Henrick ignored Vic and pressed forward, moving in on Hollice. His foot lashed out, catching her in the stomach and throwing her back. Even as she flew, he spun, blocking Vics attack with his claw and landing a slash on Hollices chest that laid bone bare. As she tumbled backward he unleashed another slash at Vic, forcing him back. Throughout the fight his cloak had been shredded and, with a hiss, Henrick pulled it off, revealing his strange vertical eyes and the hooked claw where his left hand should have been. His monstrous features were on full display, his eyes flickering with crimson light like they were lit with the flames of hell. The sight of it caused those around him to cower, and Vic was no different.
Seeing that Vic was backing up, Henrick spun on his heel and charged toward the Ghouls Tooth line. Despite their exhaustion, the gang members all started to raise their weapons when Ryn shouted at them, her expression agonized.
Stage three! Stage three!
So tired that their minds were hazy, the gang reacted as they had been trained, dropping to the ground and scrambling away as fast as they could. No one had understood it when Garrett had demanded that they train this way, but hed drilled it into their bodies so that no matter what they were doing, if he yelled stage three they would drop and scatter. Now, watching an unstoppable force charging toward them, Obe realized just how far ahead Garrett had planned. Henrick favored horizontal slashes to clear his way, so by dropping and moving aside, he lost his targets, preserving the gang members in a situation that should have been certain death.
His every instinct was screaming at him to run, but Obe couldnt allow Garrett to fall. About to charge forward, he suddenly felt arms wrap around him, causing him to stumble. Looking down, he saw Ryn, who was holding on for dear life. With the way clear, Henrick arrived in front of Garretts wheelchair like a devil from hell, his blood-stained teeth glinting evilly in the torchlight as he lifted his cleaver up into the air. With a taunting voice, he spoke even as his cleaver fell in a vicious slash.
I told you you couldnt escape!
With a crash, the cleaver cut through the chair and sank into the earth, slicing it so neatly that it stayed standing. In absolute shock, Henrick tried to understand what had happened, but it had been too fast for his brain to process. The cloak hed cut through collapsed onto the seat, revealing the man whod just dodged his strike. A crimson mask covered his face and the white flower on it stood out starkly in the darkness. Henricks gaze followed the mans outstretched arm, continuing on when it reached his gloved hand and the handle of the sword that was buried in Henricks heart.
Miles away, above the earth in an inn that sat along a dark street, Garrett sat at the table that doubled as his desk, a quill gripped lightly in his fingers. Staring down at the papers hed been writing out, he felt a tug on his mind and a dangerous light flashed across his face. Closing his eyes, he opened them to the sight of the Dream. Feeling the comfort of the Dreamers Throne beneath him, his lips curled in a smile.
Game over.
