The fragility of human body

A sprinting truck—that was what Vance gazed upon as his thoughts wrestled with his still body. Panic was an unfamiliar sensation for him, something he rarely experienced. But the sheer unpredictability of the situation and the hulking figure closing in on him forced him to make a decision.

Fight or run?

His choice was immediate. Amidst the crackling flames of the surrounding buildings, mutilated bodies littering the streets, and the darkness of night closing in, he knew that leaving the initiative entirely up to the green-skinned menace would narrow his already nonexistent chance of survival to nothing.

"Thud thud thud."

"Raghhhh!"

The roar echoed down the street as the orc charged at him, closing the distance in mere seconds. Vance's injury-ridden body screamed at him to move, but before he could fully comprehend the movement needed to escape, the orc was upon him, looming just five meters away. The creature swinging the barbed club in a deadly arc.

"I don't think I can dodge," he thought, bracing himself as he prepared to crouch beneath the behemoth's swing.

Yet then, amidst the bitter duel of the two combatants, the cascading sound of a blade rang out, and simultaneously, the orc came to a complete stop.

With the club raised, poised to deliver death, the orc's neck slowly slid to the right. A fountain of dark green blood erupted upward, followed by a dull thud as the orc's head fell lifelessly onto the cold pavement. The body followed shortly after.

"Hmm?"

The suddenness of this brutal action sent a jolt of terror through Vance. Anyone who could effortlessly kill such a creature was likely akin to the Grim Reaper in his mind.

"Was that the flash of a blade?"

Vance quickly took a couple of steps back, attempting to distance himself from this new foe—a futile endeavor as he sensed that he was done for. The returning pangs of pain made him acutely aware of his limits. Adrenaline coursed through him, but he knew it wouldn't last.

The rhythmic sound of footsteps striking the concrete rang out, and the silhouette of the figure became vaguely apparent as it stepped into the dim light.

"A knight?"

Vance's mind reevaluated his situation. The figure, at least 5'6", draped in gleaming silver armor, slowly turned around. She sheathed a short sword stained with blood and curiously regarded Vance. Wavy black hair framed her petite build, and her almost luminous silver eyes studied him intently. The lithe figure of the female knight was both imposing and comforting in the eerie stillness.

"Are you just going to stare, or are you going to thank me?" a soothing voice asked, breaking the tension in the air after a moment of deafening silence.

Vance blinked, realizing that in the brief span since he'd awakened, confronted the orc, and prepared for a fight to the death, the sounds of the surrounding skirmishes had all but vanished.

"Are you deaf?" she prompted again, her tone slightly annoyed.

"No, I heard you," Vance muttered, lowering his gaze to the petite warrior.

"Is this really the one that killed the monster? How did she do it so quickly?" His mind raced, questions swirling.

Before he could voice any inquiry about his present location or the knight's swift victory, exhaustion flooded over him, and his vision blurred. The world tilted as he felt himself fall forward—right into the figure's arms.

...

Glancing down at the body in her arms, Cecilia winced. The boy appeared to be around seventeen or eighteen, but malnourished and battered.

"I guess he really was on his last straw," she mused, her heart heavy. "What a lucky sport; if I had been even a second later, there would have been zero survivors from this massacre."

Gently cradling him, Cecilia moved briskly away from the chaotic scene, seeking the safe gathering location of her comrades.

The small town lay completely decimated. Even someone as accustomed to the brutality of orcs as Cecilia felt apprehensive as she surveyed the devastation. The terror engrained on the faces of the fallen was gut-wrenching: couples cleaved apart while holding hands, children strewn across the ground in countless pieces, and those who had thought themselves clever were ruthlessly hunted down from their hiding spots by the powerful snouts of the orcs.

Cecilia's breath quickened. She had faced many battles and horrors before, but this was different. This was a level of cruelty that left a mark on her spirit. She would have to gather her wits to seek revenge for the innocent lives lost tonight.

With bated breath and a heavy heart, she slowly walked toward where the other members of the reinforcement squad were stationed.