The Dance of Death

As soon as the woman launched herself, he watched her dodge blow after blow with a fluidity that was almost mesmerizing. Her movements were agile, her clawed strikes precise and devastating.

It was clear she was moving purely by instinct, her perception and intuition sharpened by a lifetime of survival. She had spent her years as a slave avoiding punishments and adapting to pain, and now, she was finally claiming her vengeance.

While she tore into her former masters, Shin knew he had his own battle to fight. The guards rushed in to provide backup to the family, determined to protect the Lichtensteins.

It was just the two of them against a wave of reinforcements, but he trusted the Fox-kin to handle the family. His concern lay with keeping the flood of enemies from overwhelming them.

He wanted to use his own weapon, but against men like these, it hardly seemed worth dirtying it. Instead, he relied on their own arms, disarming one guard and using his sword to cut down another. Every time he killed, he swapped weapons, turning their own steel against them in an endless cycle of carnage.

With each strike, Shin moved like a phantom in the moonlight, weaving through the battlefield with an elegance that bordered on inhuman. He was not just fighting; he was dancing, his movements fluid and precise.

The moonlight filtering through shattered windows bathed him in an ethereal glow, casting long, flickering shadows as his blade arced through flesh and bone. Every step, every pivot, was deliberate, an effortless flow of death given form.

The walls bore deep gouges from missed strikes, the stone floor cracked beneath the weight of bodies and shattered furniture turned the battlefield into an unpredictable warzone.

"Pathetic," he muttered, his voice barely audible over the dying gasps of his foes. "You fight for those who would never lift a finger for you. And for what? A coin? A title?"

He sidestepped a clumsy swing, grabbing the attacker's wrist and twisting it until the man howled in agony. With a flick of the stolen blade, Shin ended his suffering. "At least make this entertaining for me."

A massive chandelier, loosened by the battle, creaked ominously above. As Shin deflected a sword thrust, he used the momentum to kick a dying guard into one of the ornate pillars.

The impact sent fractures snaking up the stonework, and with a groan, the pillar collapsed. The chandelier crashed down, crushing those unlucky enough to be beneath it. Dust and debris clouded the air, turning the room into a chaotic haze of shifting shadows and flashing steel.

One after another, they fell, their bodies piling at his feet as he defended the door, ensuring no one could interfere with Laverna's rampage. Even as the blood pooled around him, the light of the moon gleamed on his crimson-streaked form, making him look less like a warrior and more like a reaper come to claim his due.

Through the chaos, the sounds of Laverna's slaughter rang out. He could hear the terror in the Lichtensteins' voices, the screams of men and women who had never before known fear. While she laid waste to them, he ensured that no one would come to their rescue.

The wooden beams above groaned as fire from the knocked-over lanterns licked at them. The scent of burning wood and iron filled the air. Smoke curled toward the ceiling, turning the battlefield into an inferno of death and destruction.

"You lot! Don't you realize you're defending the wrong people? People who are corrupt, vile, and evil? Are you so ignorant that you would throw your lives away for them?" Shin's voice boomed through the hall.

Some guards hesitated. Doubt crept into their eyes as they stole glances at the blood-soaked corridor, at the butchered remains of their comrades. Some shifted uneasily, considering desertion.

The idea of facing Shin alone, a man who fought like an army, sent shivers down their spines. Humans and non-humans alike stood among the guards, and many had heard rumors of Shin's presence on the battlefield, his relentless endurance, his terrifying strength.

As the moonlight poured in through shattered windows, its glow illuminated the crimson-streaked figure standing amidst the carnage. Rain began to brew, the scent of an impending storm thick in the air. Thunder rumbled in the distance, echoing the wrath unfolding inside.

More reinforcements arrived, their faces contorting with shock at the sheer carnage before them. The walls, the floors, the very air reeked of slaughter. And there he stood, grinning at them through the crimson haze, laughter bubbling from his lips. He spread his arms, swords in hand, his voice dripping with mockery.

"Look around you! You can defend them all you want, but nothing will change the fact that when this is over, whether the Lichtensteins survive or not, they will still kill you for their own amusement! You are nothing to them. Just pawns to be sacrificed!"

A flying axe whirled toward him. He sidestepped to the left, narrowly dodging it, but as the runes on its surface glowed, it curved back like a boomerang. Anticipating the movement, he flipped backward, evading the returning weapon before landing in a crouch. His gaze snapped to the source of the attack.

The Guard Captain.

"I should thank you," the man sneered, rolling his shoulders. "Thanks to you, I have to FUCKING TAME MORE WOLDRATS AGAIN!"

With a furious snarl, he hurled both axes. They spun like saw blades, cutting through the air with deadly speed. Shin dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding one, while he blocked the other with a stolen blade. The force sent vibrations up his arm, but he held firm.

The axes, however, didn't stop. They whirled back toward their master, spinning in the air before landing perfectly in his grasp. The runes pulsed, as if alive with magic.

Lightning crackled through the air as a bolt shot toward him. Shin barely managed to roll away, feeling the heat lick at his skin. The mages were fast, their spells weaving through the battlefield like serpents, forcing him to stay on the move. He couldn't afford to get pinned down.

"This just got interesting," he muttered to himself, a grin spreading across his face.

The fight wasn't just about survival anymore. It was about domination. If they wanted to trap him, they would have to be faster, stronger, and far more ruthless than he was.

And Shin was ready to show them exactly why they weren't.