The Force of Change

All around the cargos, each mercenary was locked in what seemed to be a dragged and fruitless battle. A few already lay lifeless, wet in the pool of their own blood.

Since the chitinous abominations of snow struck, no one had been able to deliver a killing blow. The chitinous skin of the monsters was especially tough.

Sending blades reeling back with heavy tremors, the battle was at a stalemate. Somewhat a testament that the mercenaries who were holding off against the abominations were no slouches either.

However, one of them suddenly saw as some masked guy drove his sword into the abomination's chest. His face paled, wanting to quickly know.

"How did you..."

But he made a stupid mistake looking away from such an opponent.

The centipede tentacle of the abomination shot forward, slamming his chest from below and throwing him up in a spray of crimson liquid.