DEMON INVASION

Wyn slipped onto the battlefield, cold smoke rolling off Cheimon.

A demon lunged at him, but the snow deity effortlessly dodged the attack before executing a merciless countermove.

The demon's neck was sliced in a swift swipe and it dropped dead. Before it could dissipate into dust, Cheimon took down three more demons.

Marshall climbed onto the roof of the closest building and grabbed the bow off his back. He scanned the ground for other familiar figures while forming spiritual arrows.

Lai Rylan appeared in the crowd, golden shoulder plates glinting with reflections of flames as he chopped the demons down. 

Sun Hayden was present as well, his Solar Sashes drifting through the night. The yellow ribbons cut everything in the close vicinity around the blond boy. 

Marshall wasn't falling behind in the slightest. His arm moved instinctively, drawing arrows one after another. Each departed with a blunt whoosh. 

Black blood splattered over cobblestone like spilled ink. Clawed beasts fell one by one, gradually turning into nothing but ash-like dust.

Once the crowd began thinning, Marshall jumped back on the ground. Firing from a closer distance was easier even if he had to dodge a demon or two. 

Everyone who had rushed to the scene was left breathless as they finished off the remaining demons.

"Your swordsmanship is flawless," Marshall told Wyn, but received no response.

A stream of red trickled down the icy blade amidst the black demon blood.

"More demons will come, we must inform the Chastity Tower," Wyn announced, paying no attention to his injury.

"Uh, guys!" Sun Hayden pointed in the direction of Stygian Regions, "They're already here!"

Another army of demons in various sizes was speedily getting closer.

Sun Hayden's face darkened to the shade of a rainstorm. "What do we do? There are too many!"

"We hold our ground!" Lai Rylan yelled over the clamor, preparing for the second wave.

"Hopeless. They will keep coming," Wyn said firmly. He gestured at the present disciples, "All of you, make your way to the Chastity Tower. Seek out General Gi. Let him know that the demons have taken over Chara Town!"

Cheimon flashed with forbidding light as the snow deity turned to face the army of demons. Was he planning to hold them back all on his own? With an injury?

As if to answer Marshall's thoughts, Wyn swapped the arm holding Cheimon, now gripping the silver hilt in his left hand. 

Marshall turned to his friends, gesturing for them to go without him, "Run to the tower! I will stay back too!"

Lai Rylan gave him a firm nod and tugged the disagreeing Sun Hayden along.

"Marsh, no, wait...!" Sun Hayden's protests faded as Marshall leapt back onto the roof, following Wyn from above.

He stopped behind the snow deity, summoning spiritual arrows once more. A considerable amount of his energy was depleted from the earlier round, but his spiritual flow was trained well.

Wave after wave of the red-fleshed creatures swarmed onto the narrow street. The howling crowd was getting so packed that Marshall expected Wyn to become overwhelmed.

Yet, despite holding the sword in his left hand, his movements were smooth and seamless as he cleared out the area, keeping the demons from moving past him.

Marshall covered his back. Every single arrow was aimed with high precision, taking down any demon that emerged from an alley behind Wyn.

Once the snow deity noticed the golden arrows darting past him, he looked up. His eyes met with the disciple's, who was perched on a roof, but he didn't complain.

Instead, the snow deity pulled away from the crowd and waved for him to stop the fire.

"Enough! Retreat!"

Having broken out into cold sweat sustaining a steady flow of spiritual arrows, Marshall was glad to see that. He waited for Wyn to run so he could follow, but the snow deity abruptly stopped in his steps.

Perplexed, the disciple looked around. A horde of demons sprinted towards the snow deity from the direction he was headed in.

The coldest wave of dread washed over Marshall as he saw Wyn surrounded from both sides. He jumped down to the vegetable stall, stretching his arm out in a hurry.

"Wyn, here!"

The snow deity glanced at him, opening his mouth to say something, but then closed it without a word. He switched Cheimon back to his injured arm and grabbed onto Marshall.

In the short moment while the disciple was pulling him up, a small-sized demon pounced on Wyn, latching onto his leg. His face twisted in pain, but no sound came from him.

Marshall ended up dragging both Wyn and the demon onto the roof. Quickly, he grabbed the small beast, trying to wrench it off the snow deity's white robes.

Wyn gritted his teeth as Marshall grappled with the persistent creature.

"What the hell is this thing?!" the disciple cursed, struggling with the claws.

Upon seeing the failed attempts to remove it, the demon's wicked grin stretched into an expression that could only be described as psychotic.

It gawked at Marshall with dilated pupils, relentlessly clutching onto Wyn's leg like a dog clinging to a bone.

Maniacal cackling echoed over the rooftops as the demon squirmed away from the disciple's grasp, making a full round around the seized leg.

"Damn," the disciple muttered under his breath, shuddering.

Marshall took a step back and his poured spiritual energy into creating another arrow. The moment it materialized in his hand, he drew it on his bow and aimed down.

The arrow pierced the little beast's throat with a sickening sound, and its red eyes rolled back.

The steely grip finally loosened and Marshall peeled the bloodstained claws off Wyn's leg. With a kick, he sent the demon tumbling back into the roaring crowds.

"Are you alright?" he reached his hand out to help Wyn get back on his feet. 

"Keep moving," the snow deity commanded, standing up on his own.

As the two ran over the black-tiled roofs, Marshall could have sword he heard Wyn's foot slip occasionally. But whenever he turned his head to check, the snow deity maintained a steady pace and a straight face.

Once the coast was clear, Marshall signaled for them to get down. They slid off the roof and continued running on the ground without a stop, high on adrenaline.

Only upon reaching the north side of Sky Oriels, they gradually slowed. Marshall caught his breath and turned to face the snow deity.

"We should go to Northern Snow Forest, the sandstone wall should keep the demons..." he trailed off as he noticed Wyn's appearance.

He looked paler than fresh snow, swaying lightly as he kept his weight on one leg.

As Marshall looked down, his soul almost left him. Besides the sleeve, the white fabric on one of Wyn's legs had also turned a damp crimson.

"Ah, shit," Marshall cursed as he bent down. 

"Do not curse," Wyn chided disdainfully, pulling his leg away from the disciple.

Marshall followed, duck-walking. "Where are you going? Let me check."

"No need. Keep moving," the snow deity directed.

The disciple raised a skeptical brow at him. "I can keep moving, but I don't think you can."

Wyn let out an exasperated sigh and slowly bent down to pull up the blood-soaked hem himself.

"I was careless..." he murmured, examining his leg.

Marshall was already grimacing at the wounded calf, but Wyn pulled up the hem even higher, revealing deep puncture wounds on his thigh.

The disciple gasped, his own leg twitching at the sight of those wounds. It was a miracle Wyn had ran all this way without so much as a grunt.

"Wait a moment," Marshall stood up and lifted his outer robe, fighting his belt to get to the inner cotton robe.

The action earned a disapproving squint from the snow deity, but he pretended not to notice.

Marshall ripped off a strip of the thinner robe and crouched down again. Wyn didn't protest, watching in silence as the disciple tightly wrapped the cloth around his thigh.

"Two foolish mistakes in one night."

Marshall lifted his head in question. "What was that?"

"I was wounded twice," the snow let out a disbelieving scoff. "Me."

"I can't tell whether you're being arrogant or self-critical right now," the disciple noted, finishing with the knot and standing up. 

Wyn muttered a "Thank you" and turned around to continue the journey with a sour look on his face.

Seeing that expression, Marshall mustered a smile to hopefully fix the atmosphere a little. "It's fine. Everyone gets injured sometimes. Especially while fighting."

"That is no excuse," the snow deity retorted.

Marshall stared at him, raising an eyebrow. "Do you want to be invulnerable? You're not a g..."

Wyn was, in fact, a god. At least somewhat. A mortal deity in control of snow. Almost a god. And an incredibly critical one, apparently.

"If I can not do so much as face a simple battle without purposeless injuries, what does that make of me?" Wyn muttered.

Marshall frowned, his patience growing thin. Who would have thought that listening to Wyn beating himself up could ruin his day more than fighting off demons?

Yet, the snow deity kept going, "If the injuries were unavoidable, it means I was not competent enough in the first place. I should have paid more attention to my surroundings. If I had—"

Marshall cut him off, "What, grown eyes in the back of your head?" 

Wyn's icicle-like glare poked the disciple a step away, but he didn't say anything else.

The sky was dark, the air heavy and humid. Marshall felt as if he was a bun trapped inside a large bamboo steamer, next to another frustrated bun.

Wyn's uneven footsteps filled the silence.

Marshall could see that his limp was becoming worse with every step, but his face remained unflinching. Even his shoulders were pulled back rigidly, and his breath was steady. 

"Need help?" the disciple asked.

A dismissive glare followed.

"Don't glare, it's not scary," Marshall quipped. "And the offer still stands. Lean on me anytime."