Re: Elf Prince—A Degenerate's Second Chance-Chapter 101. The Perfect Killbox
101. The Perfect Killbox
The chaos was not one that anyone predicted, by the time anyone could react to it, it was too late. The inside of the hut was being bathed in blood, their screams failing to escape the walls of the hut. The exit had been blocked off by a number of beast warriors who cut off anyone that got near. The so called guardians that faced the heat of the battle, those that failed to recover from the shock were the first to fall followed by their respectable elders, the guardians that were quick to come to terms with the betrayal put up a valiant fight for a few moments before they were being overrun by the number of enemies they would face.
The numbers against them and without the use of magic those none combatants were left without any way to defend themselves or even fight back, their fates were decided by the sharp edge of the blade.
In the heat of the battle the three prisoners were facing dilemmas of their own, Elise was on her knees her face pale at the gory sight, her mind still weak to comprehend the situation. Eryndor was still on his knees his face white and devoid of life, his heart barely beating as the feeling of failure seeped into him once more. And the ever confident Ash Valerion was nowhere to be seen, the only thing left where he lay was a small puddle of red. Before them was the strange liquid like mirror of light that was still activated by the world tree.
A cacophony of noise rose bringing the chaos to the an all time high as it was clear that Red Claw had designed the perfect killbox, since the location of the hut was one that was prohibited and isolated there was no way to expect anyone to one to their rescue.
One person amidst the chaos knew that their one and only hope for survival were the prisoners and that was Merylin herself. She doubted the fighting capabilities of the healer girl but she had seen Eryndor fight and he was fierce, if he could get his hand on a weapon then he would surely be able to at least help them escape. And there was Ash, the wide card and crazy boy who always had a trick or two up his sleeve.
They were somewhat safe from the battle as two of her fathers warriors stood before them, they were not protecting them but keeping them contained in that area till her father would kill the village chief and come to address them later on.
Merylin felt a strong grip on her wrist causing her to give a side glance to her sister Elze who seemed to know she would jump into the chaos of the battle. Elze shook her head dismissively, but next to her was her mother who looked at her with strict eyes and gave her a nod of approval.
With that Merylin looked away and slid between the two warriors and into the chaos, it was something she was able to do from years of practice. Her chances against one of her own people was high enough but against a dozen of them she was doomed to fail, she had to believed the prisoners had a chance to increase their own chance of survival.
As she ducked, shoved and swerved out of the way of incoming blades, her hands moved swiftly to the sides of her pants and ripped them. Bringing in weapons was prohibited, but the warriors were overlooked because of their status. Merylin on the other hand never went anywhere without her twin sickles. Ripping apart the sides of her pants just above the knees revealed a pair of silver coloured sickled strapped to her thighs. She pulled them apart effortlessly and spun wildly, creating her own little chaos within the net of chaos.
From a distance one would think she was doing a grand dance display where she was rained by sounds of joy and showered of flowers. But in this current situation there was no such thing. The sounds of joy had been replaced by screams of pain and the showers of foowers by a rain of crimson blood.
Merylin caught sight of a beast warrior approaching Eryndor from behind she could not understand why he was staying idly in such a situation. She did not find him as the such of person to be slow to react to such situations. She sped up as the warrior raised his long wooden spear for the elf boy’s back.
In the very short time that she had met him, she had experienced a number of emotions she had never felt with a single person in a short span of time. She took great pride in her solitude and strong willed self making her isolated from most of her peers who chose to sit idly by and do nothing. Since she had met the elf boy she had never seen someone who was strong and acted weak at the same time, someone who played in the face of death and now was paralyzed by what?
Instead of thinking about how dire the situation was she was more consumed by the thought of what the elf boy had on his mind.
Knowing that she would only reach the elf boy a few seconds late the leapt off the ground, exposing herself to the chaos. While suspended in mid air for a few seconds she spun around and sent the sickle flying with enough force that it lodged itself in the skull of her beast warrior. Seeing this she felt like she would throw up, the feeling of killing her own people just for the sake of survival made her feel sick. What made it even worse was the one who was to blame, her father was wasting lives just for pleasure.
All this time she tried not to think about it but the question kept coming back to her, what would she do to her father if she was forced to face him? Would she have to fight him, or worse— kill him?
