The fight turned against us quickly.
Ron and Sam were fully engaged with the knight lizardman, locked in a violent clash of steel and aura. Above them, Niles maintained constant pressure, keeping the water mage pinned. That left the remaining enemies rushing toward me.
Four swordsmen. One spear wielder.
I loosed an arrow at the spearman, aiming to slow his advance.
He twisted aside and kept charging.
Their movements were sharp now—coordinated, disciplined. They used the swamp as cover, adjusting their spacing with practiced ease. I dropped the bow, drew my sword, and sprinted forward instead, signaling Maria and Paul to stay hidden and observe.
The first swordsman overextended.
I stepped inside his range and drove my blade straight through his heart.
He collapsed instantly.
Another lizardman struck the moment the body fell. I parried, but a second attack followed immediately, forcing me backward. I shoved off the clash and twisted aside—
Too slow.
The spear grazed my face. The cut was shallow, but blood spilled freely.
No time to breathe.
A sword thrust came in low. I dodged sideways and severed the arm holding it. The lizardman screamed and staggered back—but the others showed no hesitation.
They pressed relentlessly.
I retreated step by step, trying to reposition, but the swamp betrayed me. Every movement lagged, mud clinging to my boots. The spear struck again—this time my side. Not deep, but pain stacked quickly.
Small wounds. Too many.
Across the battlefield, Ron and Sam fought in perfect coordination.
Sam, an earth-attribute swordsman, focused on defense—blocking, parrying, absorbing impact. Ron, wielding wind-attribute techniques, struck relentlessly, never allowing the knight a moment to recover.
The knight gathered power.
I saw it just in time.
Water aura surged as he swung with everything he had—a devastating cross-cut that distorted the air itself.
Sam met it head-on.
He coated his body and sword in dense earth aura and charged, choosing to parry rather than block. The impact shattered the ground beneath them.
Sam succeeded—
—but his arm broke under the force.
The knight staggered, thrown off balance by the counterforce.
That was enough.
Ron moved in a blur, driving his blade upward through the knight's chest. To be certain, he followed through, cutting cleanly upward.
The knight collapsed.
The sound echoed across the swamp.
The mage faltered.
Niles noticed instantly.
The mage abandoned defense and began chanting, retreating toward a tree to break line of sight.
Niles didn't give him the chance.
He drew a specialized arrow, wind aura coiling tightly around the shaft, and released it.
The arrow punched through the tree trunk—
—and straight through the mage's skull.
Silence fell.
On my side of the battlefield, blood dripped into the swamp as the remaining lizardmen hesitated. Their leaders were dead. Their coordination shattered.
That hesitation saved me.
I released everything I had left.
Dark aura flooded my blade.
First Manual — Sword Form: Tiger Slash.
I didn't aim for precision.
I aimed for annihilation.
The slash tore through them from left to right.
One head flew.
Another body split from shoulder to heart.
The armless lizardman froze in terror—
—and Niles' arrow pierced his eye.
The spear wielder turned to flee—
Niles' arrow took him through the back of the skull before he made it five steps.
When it was over, I stood knee-deep in blood-tainted water, breathing hard, wounds burning, barely able to remain upright—
—but alive.
The mistake had nearly killed us.
The correction had been paid for in blood.