bleeding out

Hope ran.

The sounds of battle echoed behind him—metal clashing, stone crumbling, inhuman snarls mixing with the sharp ring of a broadsword. Whatever was happening back there, it was violent. Destructive.

But that wasn't his concern.

He pressed a hand against his side, feeling the warmth of his own blood seeping through his fingers. He hadn't even noticed the wound in the chaos, but now the pain gnawed at him with every step.

Eventually, his legs gave in.

He slumped against a broken pillar, chest rising and falling in ragged breaths. His muscles burned, exhaustion settling into his bones. He let his eyes slip shut—just for a moment.

No thoughts. No dreams. Just the heavy silence of The Ashlands.

The armored man had been moving cautiously through the ruins when he heard it—a distant crash, followed by the telltale sounds of pursuit. Something big. Something relentless.

His grip tightened on the hilt of his sword. Someone's in trouble.

By the time he arrived, the scene had already unfolded—a lone figure, a scavenger by the looks of him, cornered by a corrupted fiend. The creature was seconds away from gutting the boy when the armored man made his move.

Now, he faced the full wrath of the beast.

The fiend lunged, claws flashing in the dim light. He barely raised his shield in time. A screech of metal tore through the air as the monstrous talons raked across its surface, leaving deep gouges. His arm numbed from the impact, the sheer force of the blow nearly sending him stumbling.

Fast.

He countered with a precise strike, aiming for its exposed throat—but the fiend twisted at the last moment, the blade barely nicking its thick hide. The wound was shallow, almost insignificant.

Damn thing knows how to protect itself.

The fiend's body was layered with natural armor—jagged metal plating that covered most of its frame like a grotesque exoskeleton. Only in the gaps, the slivers of exposed flesh, did it seem truly vulnerable. But hitting those spots in a real fight?

Much easier said than done.

The fiend's eyes glowed with malicious hunger as it advanced again, shifting its stance. It was intelligent. Adaptable. Testing him.

The armored man exhaled slowly, bracing himself.

This wasn't going to be easy.