Fyar let out a long sigh. He ran, charging toward the seven shadows. When his position was close enough, he immediately launched several quick slashes at the two frontmost shadows. The other five shadows immediately surrounded him, attacking from various sides with their black swords.
Fyar was forced to jump back to create distance and catch his breath.
"Neutralize," he muttered softly.
Instantly, the blade of his katana was enveloped in a purple energy.
This only lasts for ten seconds, Fyar thought.
He moved forward again. He parried a slash from one shadow, spun his body to avoid a thrust from another, then retaliated with a horizontal slash that cut the first shadow in two. A few moments later, Fyar managed to slash the head of the second shadow until it vanished. Fyar was pushed back again. The five remaining shadows continuously attacked him nonstop. Fyar tried to block every attack, but his feet kept getting pushed back.
Ten seconds passed. The purple energy on his katana disappeared. His breathing began to quicken.
SRAK!
One of the shadows managed to find an opening and slashed Fyar’s left wrist, severing it.
Fyar leaped backward, his breath ragged.
Damn it, they’re strong. What level are these? He glanced at his severed hand, blood pouring out profusely.
This is bad, I could die from blood loss. Is it because my level is still low, so my power can only weaken them?
The 5 shadows then advanced again. Fyar muttered again, "Neutralize!" His sword was once again coated in a flow of purple power.
He charged forward once more, parrying and dodging every attack that came his way. Fyar thrust straight into the chest of one shadow, then kicked it until it fell. However, as he turned, another shadow’s sword stabbed him from the side of his stomach.
SHREEK!
Fyar reflexively pressed on the sword with his arm so the shadow couldn’t escape, then slashed it with his katana. He jumped back again, now with two serious wounds.
shit I’m stabbed... this hurts like a bitch... Fyar looked at his pierced stomach. I can still stand... is this the effect of the hunter class? he thought.
He turned to look at Illya. The girl looked very weak, the green light in her hand fading until it was nearly gone.
shit, shit, shit! I haven’t even been here a week, and I’m already going through something like this?! Seriously! What kind fucking fate is this?! Fyar then looked weakly at the three remaining shadows. With a wound like this, I can probably only live for another minutes... Fyar narrowed his eyes.
Strangely, the three shadows were now just standing still. They then pointed at Fyar, their bodies trembling slightly and their shoulders shaking gently. That bastard is mocking me.
Cough! Fyar coughed up blood.
shit! have I reached my limit? What about Zaefal and Rasie inside? Fyar thought.
After a few moments, the three shadows advanced again. Fyar tried to fight back, but his condition was already very weak. He took many slashes until he finally fell to the ground.
Is this the end,
The three shadows now stood before him, pointing at him again as their shoulders shook. Two of them raised their swords, preparing to stab Fyar’s heart. Meanwhile, the third shadow walked toward the dying Illya.
...
"Freeze."
Just as the shadow swords were about to touch Fyar and Illya’s bodies, they suddenly stopped completely, coated in a thin layer of ice.
Click!
The sound of a finger snap was heard. Instantly, the three frozen shadows shattered into small, black fragments.
"Phew, what a mess." A figure of a man with messy purple hair, wearing a long black robe, walked leisurely toward them.
Fyar turned his head weakly. "Wh-who..."
The man approached Illya first. He placed his hand on the wound in the girl’s stomach. "Heal," he muttered. Instantly, Illya’s wound closed quickly. The girl’s previously listless eyes opened again, her gaze now clear.
"Wh-who?! Fyar? Where is he?!" Illya looked to her right and left. She then saw Fyar lying on the ground. "Fyar!" Illya immediately stood up and ran toward Fyar.
"tch, no thank you?," the man hissed.
"Heal, heal, heal," Illya muttered, touching the areas of Fyar’s wounds. "Fyar, hang on! What happened?!"
"I’m... fine," Fyar said with a weak smile.
The man touched Illya’s shoulder. "Move." After Illya shifted, the man pulled the shadow sword from Fyar’s stomach.
The object immediately vanished into smoke as it was removed. He touched the area of the stab wound. "Heal," he muttered. Instantly, all the wounds on Fyar’s body recovered completely.
Illya immediately hugged Fyar tightly, tears streaming down her cheeks. "FYARRR!! Thank goodness!! thank goodness!!,"
"Where’s the ’thank you’?" the man said, scratching his head.
Fyar turned to the purple-haired man. "Thank you very much."
The man gave a faint smile. "It’s not free."
"Are you an adventurer who was sent here sir?" Fyar asked politely, while patting the back of Illya, who was hugging him.
"You could say that," the man answered. He sighed. "Don’t call me Sir, it’s disgusting. just Fathir."