NOVEL NEXT Chapter 108: A Way?
Blood was spilled, mounting corpses, a fellow kin's cry of despair, fellow myriads taking their final breath. Now slowly but surely, enough time had passed; one by one, the first myriads to fall had begun to rise. Their hearts beat no longer, sacred life snuffed out of existence.
The myriad, now exhausted and struggling to breathe, glanced from side to side. He saw that the fallen ones had begun to rise. Uncertainty gripped every fiber of his being; unknown fear he never thought he would someday feel gripped his body, freezing him in place, unable to move despite holding his sword steadfast.
He looked over to the side and saw that the scholars were getting overwhelmed. Their only hope and mind in this trying time struck a deep chord within him—extreme sadness and despair. Thus, being one of the least injured myriads from the rest of the group, he scanned for a way out.
His eyes dilated as big as marbles; anxiety and uncertainty slowly retreated. A gate not too far still seemed to be functional. His lips turned up with glee and anticipation. However, there was one problem: how was he going to tell this to everyone in a single moment?
Fortunately, not too far off, there was a bell that was placed beside the streets for carriages. Without a second thought, he dashed ahead, continuously using his leg and core muscles to run, and with his upper strength held the sword forward.
Almost immediately, detractors arrived. Two ghouls stopped him from the start; however, one ghoul was behind the other, and so he immediately went for the strike.
He thrust his sword forward and struck the ghoul in the chest, after which he immediately pulled the sword back, and using his core and leg muscles, he lowered his sword down and made a diagonal rising slash upward in an arc, finishing the ghoul in half.
He twisted his wrist and realigned his position for the next strike; since the sword was already at the top after the rising cut, he angled the sword slightly back and pushed his right foot forward, and in just the nick of time, the next ghoul arrived. He drove his blade down, following the same arc downward, and once again struck the next ghoul.
Unfortunately, not as powerful as the last one, only the head was split open, followed by the splattering of blood and brain matter around the now-corpse ghoul.
He pulled the sword back close to him and breathed another large amount of air to help him regain energy.
Once feelings and emotions had stabilized, he proceeded forth. He dashed from side to side. With the strength from his core and legs, he exerted force from both his feet, but the strength exerted on the right was stronger.
He placed his hand over and used the upper muscles of his body to pull the rest of his body over an obstacle that he met along the way. Once he was over the obstacle, he landed on two feet.
His eyes widened in shock, eyes contracting, as anxiety crept back in. Upon landing, three ghouls immediately arrived to block him. As he had just come down, his body was still at the lower level, and so he took advantage of it.
With ease, he further lowered his body, raised his sword, angled it upward, and with the power from his core and legs, he rose ever so slightly to further thrust the blade deep.
The blade penetrated as a crimson bloom spread overhead, staining the two ghouls with scarlet rage. He then used two hands to pull the sword as fast as possible. Unfortunately, it was already too late, as the next ghoul had already launched its attack.
His eyes widened, adrenaline rushed forth, and time seemed to slow down rapidly. He stepped to the side, narrowly avoiding the incoming attack. He twisted the blade to another angle while realigning his position and then made a sideways slash to the side of the ghoul, deeply wounding the ghoul.
Almost immediately, as the sword was in an overhead position, he stepped forth with his right foot, and with his core and leg muscles, he exerted all the effort and strength he could muster and drove it downward.
As he was already exhausted, it only penetrated deep enough for the blade to slice the brain in half, thereby ending for good the second ghoul. Without a second thought, as if a trained machine, he pulled the sword back once again.
As the ghoul fell down, he saw that the last ghoul was still quite a long way from him, which he took advantage of to use a technique much lighter for his currently exhausted body.
He changed his position and angled the blade toward his back and pointed the pommel at the front; he pulled back his hands, and when the ghoul was a mere meter before him, he pushed the pommel and smashed it like a hammer into the face of the ghoul.
The ghoul slipped and fell back-first into the ground. He twisted the pommel with his wrist until it pointed back to the front. He angled it downward at a ninety-degree angle and plunged it deep into the final ghoul.
He took a few breaths to recover some energy. Once enough had been gained, he dashed the few remaining meters before him and the bell. Upon arriving, he immediately grabbed the rope and pulled it down repeatedly.
The deep sound of the bell as it rang through the streets took the attention of everybody, and now having the attention he needed, he glanced, then shouted while pointing at the gate.
Suddenly, the myriads moved in unison, seemingly filled with purpose again.
The myriad who rang the bell breathed a sigh of relief, as he now knew that the entire group now knew that there was a way out. As for what path the other group took, or the civilians took, he did not know. What he needed was for him to survive safely and return home.