Out of the darkness came a pair of men, one fat and the other muscular. The fat man Laurence recognised, but the muscular one he did not. Before he could even say a word the muscular man shouted “PRISON BREAK!” Trev moved to the side and began panicking. On the journey Laurence had learned that Jake was Trev’s best friend, and the reason why they had even joined the Frontier Guard was because Jake had an uncle in the guard, who got the two men in when they were considered worthless by the rest of their town. Trev owed Jake his future, so when he saw that Laurence had Jake on his pet dog seemingly kidnapping him he broke down.

Laurence reacted immediately. The muscular man was blocking his way, so he ran towards the man and thrust his blade. He was not used to fighting on hilled ground, so did not account for the fact that he was on a slope. His blade was true, but it was far too low, harmlessly passing between the guard’s legs. He realised that he had a chance to try what he had just realised was possible with his hammer and swung upwards with all his force. The hammerhead connected with the guardsman’s crotch and there was a large crack with a popping sound. The man’s pelvis was shattered and his groin was completely destroyed. He keeled over, the pain was too much and had simply killed him outright. If he had survived, then his tumbling down the stairs would have done the job in its place.

Running over to the stunned guardsman, Laurence said “Trev, please, help us get out of here. Jake got injured listening to his conscience and now if we don’t get out of here he will die.” Hearing that, Trev snapped out of his stupor and grabbed the lantern.

“Alright Laurence, Jake trusted you, so I will too.” He smiled, “I’m not the smartest person in the world, so I reckon you could be tricking me, but I don’t feel you are.” He led them upstairs and towards the exit of the wall. “If we go this way it will lead us to the waste. Is that alright?”

“Yeah. I need to go that way anyway. If we can get to the next stele then we will be free.”

“Alright kid, I’m trusting you with this.”

Trev led the group down several winding paths as a loud bell rang. It was audible wherever they went, and was obviously the sign for someone getting out of prison. Every so often they would come across a group of soldiers, but Laurence easily dispatched most of the people he came across. There were no more awkward mistakes like the one with the man on the stairs, but he did practice using his hammer's swing rather than thrust for a lot of the enemies. Unfortunately due to the thin corridors he could only manage down or upward arced strikes. Eventually they reached the gate to the wasteland, where a group of ten men and the commanding officer of the garrison stood. He had a crazed look in his eyes, and a bandage round one side of his face.

“Boy, this is as far as you go.” He drew his sword menacingly pointing it towards Laurence. “And Trevor... I never thought you would succumb to this madness. I knew Jacob would eventually, he was weak of heart. But you? I thought you were too stupid. Congratulations.”

Laurence could tell that the commander was trying to get under Trev’s skin. Attacking his best friend’s character and attacking his own weak spot. Trevor bit his lip, holding back a bitter remark and just said, “I trust you with this Laurence. You’re the only one who can get all of us out of here at this point.”

“Okay.” Laurence responded. It was time to kick things into gear. He started pushing mana into every muscle in his body and his power exploded. He sprang into the open area at a speed that defied normal man, swinging his hammer down into the middle of the crowd. The men split apart but one was too slow, his head bursting like an unripe melon. Before anyone could react he twisted sharply and brought his hammer down towards the four men to the left. The hammer missed one man by mere millimetres, but the blade did not. He was cut in half all the way to the ground, cracking upon impact. Quickly pulling the hammer in an upwards arc Laurence thrust into his third victim’s chest, destroying the heart. He kicked the corpse away as it relieved its contents on the ground and threw his hammer at the final man in his sight. It skewered him in the diaphragm and began disintegrating, until all that was left was a man, slumped on the floor, suffocating to death.

Laurence turned the moment the hammer left his hand and began dashing towards the men who had dodged to the right. There were five of them, not including the commander, and within the three seconds that it took for Laurence to deal with the men on the left they had readied their swords and shields. The display just now had shocked the men, but they were trained professionals, the elite of the Frontier Guard. They were used to their companions dying, and saw Laurence as their ultimate threat. They thought they were ready, but very little would ready them for what happened next.

Laurence sprinted forward and smashed his right shoulder into the furthest forward man, catapulting him into the commander and another man who stood behind him. Quickly bringing his hammer down he used the weapon to stop his forward momentum, while caving in the now grounded soldier’s chest. He spun, stepping forward and cut another soldier in half with the blade, then twisted back to face the men behind him. One man actually managed to get a sword stroke in towards Laurence, but the childish embodiment of a meat grinder struck his shoulder with the hammer before he could complete the stroke, severing his sword arm. The man began screaming and fell to the floor as blood pumped out of his stump with reckless abandon. Laurence lifted the hammer over his head and let it fall behind him, killing the last standing man by crushing his skull.

The only people left after the flurry of blood and gore were the commander and the final guard. Because the guard fell on top of the commander, the torture obsessed leader of this place was struggling to get up. He pushed off the guard and drew his long sword. Quickly standing and readying his weapon. “Boy, are you prepared to go one on one against me? Or will you hide behind sneak attacks and strange magics?”

Laurence stopped with a confused look on his face. There was a time and place for blaming your defeat upon the opponent cheating, but Laurence had entirely overwhelmed the guardsmen when they had set a trap. This unabashed denial was bizarre. The man should be like the only surviving guardsman, crawling away in fear. And yet he stood, with unwavering determination that he was in the right and that Laurence was cheating. It was odd to say the least.

“Fine. I’ll just beat you on your own then.” He had had enough of this man, and wanted to make a point. The captain had no way of hurting him. None. So Laurence did the only thing that he could consider reasonable, he ignited his hammer and swung it. The blade cut through the left arm of the captain, cauterising the stump as it passed. He then cut the captain’s sword arm off, again flesh sizzling as the wound sealed when he passed.

The captain screamed as his arms were both severed by a child, in his eyes this was an entirely unforeseen circumstance. A seven year old child, no matter how strong should not be able to dominate an adult as Laurence had done. The child then turned and swung across, severing the captain’s legs. He screamed once more as he fell forwards, onto the ground. Laurence flipped his body over and said, “You can stay here now. I doubt anyone will come and save you, but you can scream your heart out if you want.” He smiled menacingly and stared into the eyes of the man. “In the words of Eman Kent, ‘What was won is no longer here. Those who are alone will know true fear.’”

He stood and ushered his group through the field of corpses, leaving the limbless captain to defecate himself out of terror. There was nothing left for them before the wall, so they began walking into the waste. Soon they were nothing but specks on the horizon, and the captain was still alone.