Nic teleported away in time to avoid being beheaded, but the long, thin sword caught him through the meat of his neck and clawed away a huge chunk. Worse- he reappeared without his greatsword, which was left embedded in the grass behind him.

With his throat cut open, Nic’s cultivation wasn’t responding to his will. His energy was going haywire in his veins. Panic built in his chest.

The assassins flickered into view. They were two blue-skinned dhampirs, their bald heads and pale faces covered by sacred scripts. One wielded a long, slender sword of blue metal, and the other’s arms had been replaced with rickety prosthetics of rune-carved bone bound together by red strings, the hands made of out intricately patterned clay.

Eulogist Dhampir. E-Class // Undead. Ordinary mortals who have been infused with vampiric blood arts, dhampirs have few of their masters’ weaknesses and many of their strengths. These specimens were inducted to the eulogist class, bound to serve as assassins.

They both gave off extremely sinister auras.

Behind the two, the wretches continued to fall from the sky, forming a wall of meat that cut off Nic’s hunters from the battlefield with the two dhampir. This was something Nic could be grateful for. Already, the halberdier and a few others were trying to cut their way towards him to help…

But if they arrived, they’d only add to his burdens by making him defend them.

“Capture him.” The leader of the two assassins spoke.

Instantly the one with prosthetic arms stepped forward. The interlocked bones forming the left arm burst apart, detaching into a series of six bone hooks connected to his stump by red strings. They shot forward in all directions, forming a net that reached for Nic.

With a grunt that pushed blood from his ruined throat, Nic managed to clumsily force aura into the ring and flicker away.

It was a mistake.

The leader reacted even before Nic reappeared. As he drew back his sword-hand like he was casting a fishing line, his thin blade broke apart into segments connected by wire. It became a long bladed whip that snapped through the air towards where Nic would be-

By the time he reappeared in a flicker of light, the whip had almost reached him. There was no time to dodge.

It slashed open the back of his calf, cutting halfway through the bone and dropping Nic to one knee. The prosthetic-wielder lifted his right hand, and a long jade barrel flipped down to extend past the wrist.

A jet of green fire burst from the barrel and lanced out towards Nic.

In the instant before it arrived, Redjaw leapt out of his binding tattoo, hitting the ground with his two powerful forelimbs and curling his long, thick tail around his master. Nic was embraced by dozens of scuttling thin legs as Redjaw roared in defiance, unleashing a blast of frost from between his massive, scissor-like jaws. The lindworm’s natural venoms combined with the Poison Mist shard and its augment, the Frostbind secondary. The result was a deadly field of killing frost that sapped strength and aura from those who encountered it…

But against the fire, it only held up for an instant. The green flames pushed through and slammed into Redjaw’s side, burning at his slimy, slug-like flesh. The beast groaned out in pain, lifting its centipede mouth and draconic skull above the flames to below.

The leader of the dhampir descended. A single step turned the blue-skinned assassin into a shadow that drifted across the ground, moving slowly but covering incredible distance in some kind of bizarre movement art.

His blade flicked towards Redjaw’s throat.

Nic pushed aura into the earth, and a wall of mud rose up to catch the blade. The whip was lightning-fast and razor-sharp, but against a thick, clinging opposition of wet soil, it quickly became tangled. With a snarl the dhampir snapped the blade back into a rapier and ripped it free.

“Alright, come on back…” Nic hated to use Redjaw as a shield, but the beast was more than willing. The only problem was he couldn’t stand up to this level of opponent.

Reluctantly, Redjaw turned into an inky shadow that flew onto the tattoo across Nic’s right arm.

His throat was healed, and his leg would take his weight again. “Right.” He stood up, gripping his bow.

They’d taken away his sword, but he still had plenty of weapons. If he could hold back his Warform and the five Plates of the Sun God’s Dictate…

He’d consider this battle a success.

For a moment the fight had come to a standstill, the two dhampirs staring him down with their yellow-black eyes…

And then a shadow passed overhead. A flying ship shot through the air, not pausing as it passed over the deep chasm of the hunting grounds; as it flew past out jumped six figures, who fell down into the pit with wild laughs and howls of battle-lust.

At least one of them was familiar.

Objad, the ogre-blooded Nic had first met in the prison, led the way with an iron staff gripped in his hands. His red hair cascaded behind him in a wild plume as he fell, followed by five loyal fighters.

Clearly they’d just been waiting for a chance to leap in while the other sides were distracted.

Nic tch’d. His opponents snarled, gripping their weapons tighter.

The fight exploded back into motion.

The leader of the dhampir lunged for Nic, his sword advancing like a darting adder. The flexible blade twisted to come from strange angles, and Nic was sent stumbling, his leg still struggling as he fought to escape the web of blows.

At the exact right moment, as if this entire sequence had been choreographed-

The prosthetic-wielder’s hand opened and a bamboo tube appeared beneath the heel of his palm. It spat out a trio of darts with hollow, puffing notes.

Nic instantly reversed course. The weakness in his leg was only a feint. As it slammed down into the earth, he was as stable as a mountain. He advanced, letting the darts fly overhead into the space where the next dodge would have placed him, and his arm shot forward like a steel beam as he pushed his full strength into a brutal palm blow…

As for the dhampir’s sword?

He simply let it pierce him through the chest. The thin blade bit in and burst out through his back, but it was too late to stop the shadow of his palm.

In that moment the dhampir’s aura was locked by the moment of Desolation. Nic’s skin blazed like an iron skillet, letting off smoke as he rotated aura through the Internal Sacrifice Cauldron Technique and let it burn his blood into raw strength.

His palm slammed into the underside of the dhampir’s jaw and the bone was torn sideways off the bastard’s skull, sent flying off to one side in a rain of gore as the head twisted under the impact, the neck snapping with a brutal, unmusical sound.

The mud rose up and seized the man’s leg, stopping him from flying away.

Nic’s hand descended once more, wrapped in shadows of swirling ash. It slammed into the swordsman’s chest and caved in every single rib, leaving a palm-mark crater.

The prosthetic-wielder frantically unleashed everything he had. Another jet of flame burst out from his right hand, followed by the net of bone hooks from his left.

Nic kicked the sword-whip away - not wanting to be surprised if the dhampir was still somehow alive - and teleported back, out of range of the attacks.

As he landed he let out a pained sigh, drawing an arrow from his quiver. His aura had been pushed to the limit by using the ring to move so often, and by regrowing so many brutal wounds in quick succession. But the bow had its own store of power…

He unleashed the poison-mist snare. Chains and ribbons of sickly grey-green mist surrounded the remaining dhampir, tying him down. Nic’s hand lifted an arrow to the string and released it with a hollow plucking note.

The arrow disappeared into a blur of motion and thudded into the dhampir’s skull. The poor creature was trying to dodge, but with the mist surrounding it, its movements were slowed to a crawl. Before it could break free Nic had fired twice more.

The arrows landed in its chest, clipping its ribs and stabbing into the still, dead organs beneath.

With a howl of frustration the blue-skinned assassin drew a clay talisman seal from its belt and crushed the token. In a whisper of shadows descending, it vanished away.

Nic wasted no time. The assassin was probably still lurking somewhere nearby, but Nic needed to rejoin his troops.

The battle with the wretches had shifted tempo.

Although they’d done well following his instructions, forming a clear line with defenders up front and the more fragile melee fighters darting in and out, clearing away enemies before they could fully mass to crush the defensive line…

The enemies themselves were getting stronger.

Already, several more winged wretches had appeared. They took flight and made strafing, probing strikes at the human backlines, trying to catch out some vulnerable target and haul them up into the air. His hunters ranged might was fully focused on trying to drive away these harassing opportunists, and countless attacks flew into empty air as the winged wretches dodged between them.

Worse, there were other kinds. Heavy-bodied, ape-like wretches that could manifests weapons of solid flame in their hands were chipping away at the two defenders with their relentless strength. One of them had been tied down by Kang-Dae’s chains, but the heat of its body was scorching the bald-headed man, making him howl in pain as his arms burnt brutally where they wrapped around the struggling beast’s throat.

With a trio of arrows, Nic killed the brute wretch. Kang-Dae tumbled away, quickly retreating…

A serpentine wretch scurried into Nic’s path. It had a long, twisting body with six bladed limbs, and it tried to lunge for him with the foremost pair.

Nic stepped through the clumsy attacks, slamming his palm into its belly. The sheer impact flicked it into the air.

With another teleporting step forward, Nic reached his sword. Drawing it out of the earth he swept open a wide cut of the battlefield with a single strike, killing all within his reach. The blade had transformed to a heavy, earthen length of stone. Its weight and power tore the opposition down.

He advanced.

Step by step, he cut his way towards his lines. He fell in between the two defenders, nodding to them as they weathered the tide of bodies, claw and flame reaching for them as the horde of wretches surged into their weapons.

Together, they pushed forward.