Azrael leapt off the prow of his boat, summoning a swirling vortex of golden flames. He’d managed to replenish almost half of his mana since their last fight, or rather their flight. The anger and shame of having to run burnt though him, all bundled up in frustration. He’d received four notifications during the last few hours, three for [Search] and one for [Meditation]. The fact that they were first notifications he’d received in a long time just went to show how comfortable he’d gotten with his current strength. And how little he’d done to further his growth since returning.

It had perhaps been a wake-up call, a reminder for him. James eclipsing him, his magic being ineffective, his mana pool not being enough, having to flee. It all grated at him. Always when he promised to become stronger, always when he thought he’d become stronger he felt he’d grown, he became too comfortable, too used to his strength. It was no wonder that The Beast inside of him was laughing, straining at its bonds as it sought to take control.

It promised him power. The power to fight, to protect himself, to protect them both, to protect them all. He was tired, hungry, worn, dirty, his nerves strung high, angry and what ever else. He blamed it on all of those factors and let the chains slip free. It was so much easier. The last thing he did was call out to the expedition as his flames took on the form of a golden spear of fire.

“Keep Rowing!”

Then he fell into the backseat, his arm launching the blazing golden projectile down river. [Spear Arts] helped steady the aim.

The flaming spear cut through the heart of the webs, shattering and melting the ice, sending the fine webs ablaze. Flames raced up webs like fire along a fuse, until nothing remained blocking their way. Spiders fell into the river shrieking, their spun supports burnt away from underneath them. The Beast ignored them, landing on the tip of James’ blade and dancing off into the night. It was a {Predator} and {Protector}. It was finally free; free to fight, to run, to hunt. The spiders were prey and none would deny it.

Landing on the riverbank, amongst fallen spiders the Beast grabbed the first one that jumped at him, ripping off its two armoured front legs. Its head was the size of his fist, its eight eyes gleaming in the burning remnants of the destroyed webs. It shrieked as he stabbed its own legs through its black carapace. Blue blood sprayed out, coating his hands.

A second spider latched itself onto him, sinking its fangs into his left arm. He ripped his grotesque weapons out of the dead spider and plunged one into another offender that tried to do the same, while blocking another two with the one attached to his arm. It cried out as its two kin ripped into it in their frenzy to reach him. It fell shrieking, his blood staining its mouth red. He released his grip on one leg, using the remaining one to punish it for what it had done. Blue and red mixed.

Across the other shore The Beast saw the other warrior, the one with the large-claw-that-strikes-hard battling against his own horde of foes. It approved. He fought well, without holding back. Most importantly though, he did not interfere with its fight.

More spiders swarmed towards it, racing across the ground, or leaping down from trees. They never made it, as dozens of thin stone needles lanced out of the ground, piercing through them. They screeched, blue blood rolling out from their wounds. They were not dead, but they would be soon.

Finally freed from having to stay in the same spot to cast such a spell it burst into movement. Snapping a [Stone Spear] from where it protruded it stabbed through three further arachnids.

The boats had moved far during the foray and it followed, racing through chitinous bodies. Already the majority of the spiders was targeting the boats, re-weaving their webs across the water in a great net to catch prey. It bared a smile and summoned another globus of fire, unleashing it at the newly constructed webs.

A second later The Beast dropped through a shadow, dodging a crafty spider that had dropped down from above. As a reward he summoned a [Stone Dagger] and launched it, embedding the blade to its hilt.

More spiders came, more fell. More bled. He bled. They died. They shrieked in pain. He screamed in defiance, reveling in the battle, even as his left arm went limp. It burned with a thousand molten needles, but The Beast laughed. Its step faltered, many smaller bites and wounds accumulating, along with the fatigue. It kept on fighting. It had been suppressed so long, suppressed by fear. Fear of what it was doing, what it could to. Life was so simple. One simply had to stop fearing.

A spider latched onto his boot, his other foot slipped in a pool of blue blood. He fell, leaves embracing his face. The smell of loam greeted him. A spider dropped on him even as he tried to rise. He pushed it off with his only functioning arm, incinerating it with a blast of gold. His smiled wavered as Azrael began to realise he was reaching his limits. The Beast shrugged it off, grinning. It knew he couldn’t truly die. Death was not the end. He stumbled up, falling into a shadow to avoid the gathering horde that had begun to focus itself on him. Once, twice, thrice he jumped, heading towards the boats.

They boats were already past the webs, breaking free of the ambush. Azrael clamped on the urge to turn and fight, realising that he was nearing his end. The Beast begrudged him, but he pushed it away. With a burst of [Wind] he barely made it to the barge, where James was already resting, his sword pristine, despite the mix of blue and red covering him.

Dropping down beside him Azrael gave a weary grin, before his whole world dropped into darkness.