Leo knew he stood no chance against all the Vikings. Just two were enough to take his life, but he dared not show weakness.
He was already wearing fearso armor and held a long, captivating sword. What he needed now was to show prowess, but how was he supposed to do that? His martial skills were still not top-tier, nor was his swordsmanship or any of the other traits that make up an Aura Farr.
He wasn’t alone in the battle; he had Taren, Mirage, and a few Aura Farrs among the civilians. Though they were likely of low rank, they would still last a few minutes until help arrived.
’Scratch that. Mirage shouldn’t be counted.’
It was a gamble, since they didn’t know exactly when help would arrive. When would the information that one of Earth’s most important cities was under attack reach the high officials?
Leo studied the Vikings intently. They were well-ard and prepared. The Vikings stood there in a large troop, staring at him and the civilians with malice—except for two.
The first one Leo saw was the white-haired Viking. He had an unreadable expression, but it couldn’t be compared to that of the young Viking on the strange creature. Leo didn’t know why, but he felt he had t his match in this battle.
’But he looks much stronger.’
They made eye contact, the air becoming more tense. Leo took a step back and glanced behind him. Taren and five others were already behind him. The five were Aura Farrs, already summoning weapons. Mirage, anwhile, was with the civilians; it looked more like she was being protected by them instead of the other way around.
Hafgrim took a step forward.
"Primorians! I greet you. I would request that you all surrender and receive an easy death. It is no surprise you stand no chance against us!"
Leo was infuriated by the nonsensical speech.
"Screw that!"
He imdiately charged forward at a moderate speed toward the unmoving Hafgrim, shocking Taren and the rest. Leo aid for the Viking’s ribs, but as his blade was about to connect with the azure-marked stomach, Leo felt his own ribs crack from a sudden, lethal hit. He was sent spinning through the air before crashing into a tree behind the Aura Farrs and Taren.
"Leo!" Taren yelled out and ran toward him.
Leo groaned. His back ached from the impact, as did his ribs. The pain would have been more intense if not for the sturdiness of the [Shell of Dread]. Gritting the triangular teeth of the armor together, he slowly stood up and picked up the [Yielding Spine].
He staggered for a second and was held in position by Taren. He slapped Taren’s hands away and ignored him, staring at Hafgrim with malice. The crimson eyes of his armor filled with anger.
Hafgrim, anwhile, remained indifferent. He slowly raised his hand, a crazed happiness appearing on the faces of the other Vikings, except for the blue one. When his hand was finally up in the air, he ford a fist and imdiately released it, spreading his palm.
The Vikings roared and rushed forward, their eyes glinting with bloodlust.
"Mirage, run as fast as possible with the civilians!" Taren yelled.
A civilian picked up Mirage and piggybacked her, and they took to their heels while the Aura Farrs and Taren stood their ground as the horde of Vikings rushed toward them.
Leo straightened and lunged forward. The other Aura Farrs, who were already shaking, hid their fear and attacked. Taren, who was given no choice but to let Leo join the battle so soon after awakening, climbed a tree and found a suitable position. He stretched his palm forward; a green orb ford and traveled at great speed toward a Viking. It exploded on the Viking’s face, sending him sprawling back and hitting two others.
The forest transford into a slaughterhouse in seconds. The sound of Taren’s aura blasts was drowned out by the rhythmic, animalistic roars of the Vikings.
Leo ignored the dull throb in his chest. The [Shell of Dread] was buzzing, its white plates vibrating as they absorbed the residual shock of Hafgrim’s counter. He didn’t have ti to process the gap in their power. A Viking with a massive, rusted iron arm was already upon him, swinging a flail that whistled with lethal intent.
Leo ducked, the wind from the iron ball grazing his needle-crown. He drove the [Yielding Spine] upward. The crimson blade slid through the Viking’s leather armor like a hot wire through wax. He twisted the grip, and the blade’s segnts expanded, shredding the warrior’s internals before he could even scream.
Beside him, two Aura Farrs were not as lucky. A Viking berserker slamd a bearded axe into one man’s shoulder, the force shearing through bone and reaching the heart in a single motion. The other farr was swamped by three marauders, his screams cut short as they tore into him with primal ferocity.
"Stay together!" Taren’s voice cracked from above.
Another green orb streaked from the canopy, detonating against the ground and throwing a cloud of dirt and shrapnel into the eyes of the advancing horde. Taren was firing rapidly now, his artificial arm hissing as steam vented from the overtaxed joints.
Leo felt a chill crawl up his spine. He threw himself to the left just as a bolt of jagged, icy blue lightning scorched the earth where he had been standing. He looked up to see Sigurd.
The young blue Viking hadn’t moved from his three-headed Chira, but his staff was glowing with a malevolent blue light. The air around the Viking was cold and icy, contrasting with the dreadful aura emanating from Leo’s [Shell of Dread].
"You... I want to battle you," Sigurd’s voice carried over the din of battle. "No one has taken a single hit from my brother and survived."
He paused and stood on the Chira before jumping down flawlessly in front of Leo. He raised his head toward the young man clad in the fearso white armor and tilted his neck, his eyes wide yet indifferent. It was slightly childish, but terrifying at the sa ti.
"I’m Sigurd. Don’t disappoint , okay?"
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