Fifty feet away.
Forty.
Thirty.
The lead guards spotted the fallen tree and called a halt. Perfect.
Marcus caught Liz’s eye across the road. She was ready, coiled like a spring, waiting for his signal.
The soldiers dismounted, discussing how to clear the obstacle. Two of them approached the fallen tree. Two stayed with the cart. The rear guards maintained their position, still watching backward.
Marcus’s Soul Reading picked up a spike of fear from inside the cart. The prisoners knew something was about to happen. They could probably hear the soldiers talking, sense the change in routine.
He raised his hand slowly, making sure Liz could see.
The soldiers grabbed the fallen tree, preparing to drag it aside.
Marcus’s hand dropped in a sharp cutting motion.
"On my mark."
He materialized Dagon and burst from the trees in one fluid motion. The short sword flashed into existence as his boots hit the road, closing the distance to the nearest soldier in three strides.
The man turned, eyes going wide. "Wha—"
Dagon punched through the gap in his corrupted armor, right between the chest plates. The soldier gasped, blood bubbling from his lips. Marcus twisted the blade and pulled it free. The body dropped.
[VOID HARVEST ACTIVATED][+18 CURRENCY]
I get coins from fallen soldiers. The thought flickered through Marcus’s mind. Not something to be happy about. But nice.
The second soldier at the fallen tree reacted faster, drawing his sword and bringing it up in a proper defensive stance. Trained reflexes. Military discipline showing through.
Marcus didn’t give him time to use it.
He feinted left, watching the soldier’s eyes track the movement, then exploded right. Dagon came up in a rising slash that opened the man’s throat. Blood sprayed across the fallen tree.
[+18 CURRENCY]
Across the road, Liz burst from the thicket like a storm.
Her Bladecaster abilities flared to life, blue magical energy wrapping around her blade in brilliant arcs. She swung at the nearest cart guard the slash extended beyond her physical weapon, a projection of pure magical force that cut through the air with a sound like tearing silk.
The soldier brought his sword up to block.
The magical projection cut through the steel like it was paper, continued through his corrupted armor, through flesh and bone beneath. He didn’t even scream. Just fell in two pieces.
"Someone’s been training." Marcus’s eyes tracked Liz’s movements, impressed despite the chaos.
"Ambush!" One of the rear guards finally processed what was happening, his voice cracking with panic. "Ashfang under attack! We’re—"
Marcus threw Dagon across the distance. The blade spun through the air and took the shouting guard in the throat, cutting off his warning mid-sentence. He clutched at the sword, stumbled, and collapsed.
[+15 CURRENCY]
Three down. Three remaining.
The last rear guard turned and ran, sprinting into the forest without even attempting to fight.
Marcus saw him go. "No use pursuing someone who’s lost the will to fight".
That left the two cart guards engaging Liz.
They’d abandoned their positions and were trying to flank her, moving with coordinated precision. These two were better than the others. Tier 3, based on the different badge markings on their armor. Combat veterans from the way they moved tactical, controlled, none of the panic affecting the others.
Liz held her ground, her blade creating a defensive pattern of magical slashes that forced both soldiers to keep their distance.
"A Bladecaster." One of the soldiers circled left, his voice tight. "Command didn’t say anything about—"
"Doesn’t matter what command said." The other soldier moved right, trying to split her attention.
"She’s dead either way."
They attacked simultaneously.
Liz spun, her blade extending in a wide arc. The magical projection forced both soldiers to break off their assault, diving aside to avoid being cut in half.
But the coordinated attack had done its job created an opening.
One of the cart guards changed direction mid-roll, abandoning Liz entirely and sprinting for the covered wagon.
"Hostages!" he shouted. "I’m taking—"
Marcus was already moving.
Marcus crossed the road in seconds, but the soldier still reached the cart first because he was closer. The man grabbed one of the bound prisoners a younger man, gagged and terrified and yanked him out by the ropes binding his wrists.
"Back off!" The soldier pressed a knife to the prisoner’s throat, using him as a shield. "Back off or he dies! I’ll cut his throat right here!"
Marcus didn’t slow down.
The soldier’s face went from confident to confused to terrified in the space of a heartbeat. "I said back—"
Marcus materialized Dagon and sent it through the soldier’s wrist. The one holding the blade to the prisoner’s throat. Steel punched through flesh and bone, pinning the hand to the cart’s wooden frame.
The soldier screamed. The knife clattered to the ground.
Marcus dematerialized Dagon from the pinned wrist and rematerialized it in his hand. The blade swept horizontally, opening the soldier’s throat before he could process the pain. Blood fountained. The body slumped against the cart.
[+20 CURRENCY]
The bound prisoner stumbled backward, wide eyes staring at Marcus over his gag. Fear mixed with relief in his emotional signature.
"Stay down." Marcus’s tone left no room for argument.
He turned back to the fight.
Liz had one of the Tier 3 soldiers on the defensive now, her magical slashes coming faster, forcing him to give ground with each exchange. The soldier was skilled blocking, parrying, looking for openings but Liz’s abilities gave her reach he couldn’t match.
Marcus moved to flank.
The soldier saw him coming, tried to disengage from Liz to deal with the new threat. Bad decision. Liz’s blade caught him in the side, magical energy punching through his corrupted armor. He went down hard.
That left one.
The last Tier 3 soldier looked at Marcus, at Liz, at the five bodies of his squad scattered across the road. His emotional signature showed the exact moment he made his decision.
He turned and ran.
Not toward the forest like his coward companion. Toward the road, back the way the convoy had come, probably hoping to reach reinforcements or the fortress.
"Let him go?" Liz started to give chase.
"No." Marcus’s jaw set. "Can’t have him reporting back."
He sprinted after the fleeing soldier, closing the distance with each stride. The man was fast, but Marcus was faster.