Ferin did not seem afraid, which was a relief, but rather the opposite. Aren had to admit that he enjoyed when others reacted to his magical abilities with awe, just as much as he disliked it when they reacted to them with an unreasonable degree of fear. Magic could be dangerous, certainly, but so could a blade. People tended to often panic at the mere sight of the former, however. Sometimes it didn't even matter how it was being used, or for what purpose, its simple existence might be enough to condemn a man in the eyes of another.
Out of all the opportunities he had to exert his independence, the cook just had to choose this one? The Akalak's head nodded from side to side as he heard Ferin offer his opinion on Aren's chosen stratagem. "No, you listen to me! I don't care if you take a piss out in these woods every morning and I know exactly how many enemies there are." The mercenary started, his voice overlapping with that of the man he was tasked with protecting. "I don't give a damn WHAT you think! I can't fight as effectively if I also have to be worri-" Before he could finish his statement, however, Ferin had darted off in the direction of the three Yukmen.
"If that little shit survives... I'm going to fucking kill him! Seros snarled, his voice conveying a feeling of profound rage mixed with a complete and utter sense of disbelief.
Aren, on the other hand, knew he had no time for anger if he wanted keep Ferin, or Orin, or whatever the hell his name was, alive. He had to go after him, and he had to do it right now. The Akalak instinctively chased after the cook, but the young man really did know these woods better than him. Realizing that he wasn't going to be able to stop him from executing his insane plan, Aren decided that the only thing he could really do was try and make said plan actually succeed.
The Akalak's eyes detected the moment that Orin saw the Yukmen and vice versa, prompting him to take cover behind a thick tree that appeared to be on the madman's return course. Keeping his scythe parallel with the length of the trunk, Aren's head craned out every few breaths to judge the distance between Orin and the last of his pursuers.
"Two... no, three!" The Yukman at the end of the train was three heartbeats away, he estimated. If he was wrong however, if he mistimed his attack a second too early or too late... At best the Akalak could end up surrendering the element of surprise for absolutely no gain. At worst, Orin could find himself with two or three Yukmen on top of him with Aren too far away to provide help in time.
There was no time to ponder other options, however, as the little cook flew by him in his mad dash to escape the monsters that hunted him; he was, of course, followed closely by his new acquaintances,
"One..." The mercenary counted, a bead of anxious sweat sliding down his brow as he noticed the first of the Yukmen rush past him,
"Two..." He could feel his own heart pounding away in his chest like an angry drum, as he noticed the second one blow by
"...Three!" Without a moment's hesitation, Aren took a step to his right and turned about, his scythe snaking behind him with a horizontal sweeping motion.
The blade cutting smoothly through the Yukman's soft neck, the creature's momentum carried it's headless body quite a ways before it rolled to a stop. His friends did not even seem to notice, however, eagerly continuing their pursuit of Orin.
Pointing the palm of his free hand in the direction of the second closest of Orin's new devotees, the Akalak took his time (thought he knew there wasn't much of that to go around) to make sure he didn't miss. The mass of Res that had suddenly shifted position from it's previous resting place wrapped around Aren's forearm now coalesced into a solid spherical construct which hovered in front of his outstretched hand.
The triple layered spell, consisting of one inner control layer, as well as two distinct outer layers, suddenly lit up with a chirping noise, and arcs of light seemed to bounce through, and around, the otherworldly creation. Willing the energetic ball to move, the Reimancer flung it right into the exposed back of one of the pair of Yukmen running after his charge, hoping he had correctly accounted for the speed of the projectile and the movement of the target. A few seconds later, screams of agony and the sight of smoking flesh told him he had not erred, even before he saw his unfortunate victim slump to the ground.
There was only one left now, and Aren promptly gave chase to it even as it neared Orin, but he was simply too far. He began to produce another quantity of Res as he ran, but it was necessarily slower going. The only thing the mercenary could really do at this point was warn him, "You have to turn around, Orin! Turn around right now, and FIGHT!" |
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