The tigerkin targeted Cain, net twirling through the air with a hiss.

  Cain ducked and rushed forward. The human guard’s hooked blade slashed, grazing Cain’s ribs. Blood from the wound soaked his armour.

  Jack released a second arrow at the bearkin, and it hit an iron band on the club. “Fuck!”

  Cain slammed his shoulder into the human, who stumbled back. A heartbeat later, Cain’s sword flashed upwards in an arc. The guard’s jaw split like a dropped fruit, his teeth scattering to the rocks like bloodied seeds.

  Blood fountained from the guard’s face as he collapsed to his knees while twitching, and choking on his own tongue. Cain kicked him off the ledge and into the raging river below. There wasn’t even a scream or a splash; he just vanished into the mist.

  With shaking knees, Jack dropped his bow, drew his dagger, and prepared for the attack. The bearkin raised his club high, grunting in pain from the first arrow. He held his left hand out and activated one of his new skills for the first time. I pray this works. His mana dropped as a [Fireball] flew from his left hand into the beastkin’s chest. The bearkin’s upper body became engulfed in flames, fur ignited, and his armour charred. The guard screamed as the fire peeled the skin from his chest like old parchment.

  Jack gagged at the smell of burning flesh and felt the hairs on the back of his left hand burn away. Don’t have a flashback. Please, no flashback. He chanted in his mind as he recoiled from the effects of the Pseudo Mage skill, [Fireball].

  The pseudo spell wasn’t as powerful as a [Fireball] spell scroll, maybe half of the power, but it was enough. To gain more power from the spell, he’d need to understand the mechanics of how the [Fireball] skill worked.

  He ducked under the flailing club swing. The iron-wrapped club smashed into the rock wall, sending shards flying. Splinters sliced Jack’s face as he slashed the bearkin’s thigh, drawing a line of blood. The beastkin howled and, despite his burns, backhanded Jack, knocking him to the ground. His head slammed against the stone… stars bloomed in his vision.

  The smouldering beastkin raised the club again, with a grimace of pain etched across his raw face. Jack rolled aside and stabbed upward, plunging his dagger into the bearkin’s belly. He felt the familiar itch of his palm as the blade dug deep through fur, fat, and muscle.

  The guard snarled and tried to grab him, the bearkin spasmed, vomited black-red blood onto Jack’s shoes, and slumped. Jack twisted the blade, feeling it tear through intestines and organs. Hot blood splashed his face as the bearkin was disembowelled while collapsing onto him. With some effort, he shoved the heavy corpse aside, panting, soaked in blood and half-digested meat. His dagger dripped red.

  Jack wiped the blood from his face as power surged through him, and some of his fatigue receded. A new skill flared through his bones.

  Cain grunted nearby. The tigerkin had drawn a dagger and lunged. Cain parried the blade and grabbed the beastkin’s dagger hand before driving it through her own throat. With eyes widened in shock, the tigerkin clawed at her throat wound, gasping, red froth bubbling between her fingers.

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  Jack retrieved his bow and nocked another arrow, but the hawkkin was already leaping forward, her blades flashing. He dropped the bow and arrow and prepared to activate a [Chronos Sphere] scroll.

  Cain intercepted the hawkkin, catching her first strike on his arm guard, but the second blade raked his thigh. He grunted in pain, his blood splashed onto the grey stone, painting it red. He headbutted her, snapping the beastkin’s beak-like nose with a loud crunch. The hawkkin reeled back, and Cain drove his sword through her belly, the blade bursting out the back in a spray of black blood and feathers. The guard shrieked while clutching her stomach as she collapsed.

  The next attacker, a male wolfkin with a spear, came fast. Cain blocked the thrust with his forearm and roared while his blade swung low, cutting through the wolfkin’s knee. Flesh parted, bone snapped, and the guard screamed, falling to the side with a look of terror. Cain stepped over him and drove his sword down through his chest. The scream stopped.

  Jack turned. The foxkin was already on him, her sword jabbing forward. He twisted to avoid it, but the blade caught his outer thigh, slicing flesh. He cried out, staggered back, and lost his footing before falling on his back in the loose shale. The foxkin growled and lunged again.

  Jack reached for a blinding powder and flung it into the beastkin’s face while closing his eyes. The world flashed white, and the foxkin shrieked, swinging wild, missing him by inches. He dove forward with his dagger in hand. His tainted blade bit deep into the foxkin’s side, feeling the resistance of meat, bone, and the scrape of ribs.

  The foxkin roared, she clawed at him, scratching his cheeks, and biting deep into his left shoulder. Jack screamed in a panic and stabbed again. Once. Twice. The third strike went through her neck. Blood sprayed hot across his face, and he tasted the iron-rich blood as he gasped for breath.

  The foxkin gargled, trying to speak. Jack twisted the blade again to the familiar palm itch. Blood spilt over his legs, warm and slick. Fuck! This is awful. The guard reached up with one trembling hand and gripped his wrist. She didn’t let go until her eyes rolled back and she pissed herself. The foxkin convulsed, then sagged, dead.

  His palm itched. A power rush of another skill.

  Cain helped him up. “How’re you doing?” he asked, breathless.

  Jack coughed. “St-standing.”

  They looked down the slope.

  Jack wiped the blood from his face and started using Heal to patch them both up. He felt his mana drop. I’m going to run out before this ends.

  The rest of the guards watched in silence, and the nobles hadn’t moved.

  Greaves met Jack’s eyes. There was no anger or rage; he was watching with cold curiosity.

  Vampese’s smile widened. Argil clenched his fists; he was shaking from rage. Fenton stepped forward like he wanted to charge, but was held back.

  “They’ll send more,” Jack said, wiping blood from his face.

  Cain spat blood. “Let them.”

  Five bodies bled out on the rocks. One human. Four beastkin. The sixth washed away by the river below.

  Cain began collecting weapons from the dead, storing them behind him.

  Jack’s ribs ached, and his arms trembled, but his grip on the dagger was steady. He checked his new skills and prayed they were useful.

  [Class Screen-Internal View]

  Class: Novice Blood Mage (0)

  Compatibility: 81%

  …

  -- Pseudo Warrior: Brutal Blow (0)

  -- Pseudo Warrior: Endure Pain (0)

  Brutal Blow… useless without a heavy club. He examined the second skill that was already earning its keep. Hmm… another passive skill, pain won’t affect me as much. He grimaced at the thought and closed his eyes. The beastkin’s screams were still ringing in his ears. He hoped they’d haunt the nobles forever, but he knew they wouldn’t. Not those monsters.

  The fight wasn’t over. The nobles were moving.