003. Guards of Bloodwall
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Steel met steel as Sir Anthony caught the edge of the dagger with the tip of his sword, sliding back away from the shadows which had formed around him. He glanced around, swaying from side to side. “Who dares raise their blade against a knight of the Bloodwalls!”

“We dare!” cried a shadow, revealing a dagger in each of their hands. “Who wouldn’t raise their blade against a no good drunkard, Bloodwall or not?”

“You will regret stepping in front of my path!” Anthony’s imposing voice was cut by an untimely hiccup. The sound of a gentle trickle broke the silence. “Give me a moment to become decent. There is a special place in hell for those who attack men with their breeches down!”

The shadows each waited for Anthony to fix himself, circling around him. There were four of them, each dressed head to toe in black, only their eyes free. “It’s a shame you caught us. We were going to give you a quick and painless death, but it seems you want to make this difficult for us!” The shadow darted forward and Anthony met his dagger, only to find another shadow behind himself. The knight stumbled aside, the dagger narrowly missing him before he tumbled and managed to find himself on his unsteady feet.

“You’re quite the slippery little knight,” a shadow said.

“He’s just drunk,” another said. “He has the luck of a drunkard.”

“Lucky or not, you’re surrounded! You might be a little stronger than any one of us, but you’re drunk and outnumbered! Give yourself to us and we’ll be merciful.”

Anthony raised his sword and pointed it towards the shadow. “Kneel down and I will behead you in a single swipe,” he said. Then he stopped. “Why are you here anyway?”

“A dead man has no need for such information,” a shadow said, keeping the knight’s attention as another shadow darted from behind, his dagger gleaming with wickedness.

Anthony turned on his heel and then trumbled into the shadowy form, feeling the blade pierce between the shoulder pad of his armour and nick his shoulder. His own sword swung wildly as he spun, slashing against the shadow and cutting against his side. Red blood sprayed against the floor as the shadow clutched at his side and leapt back.

“He cut me! The fucker cut me!”

“Shut up! He was just lucky! Look!” The shadow pointed to the knight’s shoulder. “Keep aiming for the chinks between his armour! He won’t be able to defend against all of us!”

“Death by a thousand cuts!” Another shadow laughed.

Anthony glanced between them all. “Do you really think any of you can beat me? I’m High Iron Fifth Core! What are you? High Iron First Core at most?” Anthony had been stuck at the level for a long while now, unable to break through thanks to his drinking habit.

“High Iron Fifth Core?” A shadow gasped, turning to face one of his companions. “This guy, isn’t he a little too strong? Even his guards were each High Iron, I don’t think…”

Another shadow emerged. She had been waiting for the right time, but it seemed that her compatriots needed help. “The difference between you and I is not so much, is it?” she asked, her voice like sweet poison.

“Sister! I didn’t expect you to be here,” a shadow said.

“I heard you were up against the Bloodwalls, so I made my way.” She frowned under her black mask, but no one else was able to see it. She had wanted the other shadows to fight against the knight so she could eventually finish each of them, but this knight’s movement filled her with unease.

“How unfortunate for you, knight! Sister has managed to reach High Iron Fourth Core recently, and now your time has come.”

“Fourth Core? So what! I’m at the Peak, so you won’t be able to match me.” Sir Anthony gripped his blade with both hands, glancing around himself.

“Alone, perhaps,” she replied. “Unfortunately for you, all my brothers are here to fight alongside me.”

“My head isn’t worth so much that you’d need to kill me,” Anthony said. “…”

“You dumb drunkard!” The woman revealed her short sword, which was of Uncommon make. “Why would we be here for you?”

“Once our brothers are done with the guards, we won’t need to take your head!”

“The guards? Wait! You’re here for the young sir!” Anthony stumbled forward, swinging his blade wildly. “Don’t you know who I am? I am Sir Anthony, a knight of the Bloodwalls Bloodwall! Do you really think you’ll be able to take my young sir under my watch?” The knight charged forward.

Mark pulled back as the dagger missed his neck by inches, and then leapt up to kick the shadow through the window, using the force to pull back from the carriage. “Attack!” Mark exclaimed, but the shadows were already darting towards the drinking guards.

The guards of Bloodwall were built different, as, though they were currently under the effects of the sweet poison known as alcohol, they had managed to raise their spears swiftly. The various daggers clinked off their spears as the shadows retreated away from the tipsy armed warriors.

“Damn! Our sneak attack failed! What are you doing?” One of the shadows looked back towards the broken window of the carriage where his compatriot was currently trying to stand up.

“He got lucky!” The shadow grabbed his dagger and then circled around to join the other shadows. “He’s busy holding the kid! Attack him now!”

“No!” A shadow pointed to the other guards. “We can’t let the kid get injured! Kill the other guards! Keep an eye on that one. If he leave the kid alone, just swoop him up and we can leave.”

“Do you think I’ll let you take my young sir away from me under my watch?” Mark grabbed the sword at his side and raised it. “Keep dreaming!”

The other guards, though tipsy, managed to clash with the various shadows. There were six of them, though the six were only attacking the three guards and the driver, who was clutching at a dagger.

“You don’t need to lose your life today, driver! Leave at once!”

The driver, an older man who was a little chubby, smiled nervously. “Thank you kindly, strangers.” He slowly withdrew until he was far enough away that he could turn and run.

A shadow threw two daggers at the back of the driver. “As if we’d let you leave!”

Mark leapt in front of the daggers, easily deflecting them with his blade as he held the young sir with his other arm. He was the only one confident enough to fight while holding a fifteen year old young sir in his arm.

“This guy!”

“Are you crazy?”

Mark smiled. “Crazy?” He placed the young sir down gently. “Look after the young sir.”

“Little Jack won’t know harm,” the driver replied.

Mark turned around. “Crazy, you say? Have you forgotten who you’re against!”

“Hmph! Once our brothers are done with that knight, they’ll come here and soak the area with your blood.”

Mark laughed. “Did you hear that? He calls us crazy and says such stupid things!” Mark raised a hand. “Hear me, guards of Bloodwall, subdue them without killing!” His lips turned into a wicked grin. “We’ll show them true terror.”

“These guards sure know how to talk! Kill them!” The shadows darted forward to meet in battle with the guards.

Mark smirked as he clashed his sword with the daggers of the shadows. These shadows thought that they could handle that Sir Anthony?

Anthony charged forward, meeting the daggers with his sword. He stumbled aside, dodging a blow as another glanced off of his breastplate. A small smile appeared on his face as the shadows tried to sink their blades into his flesh, though one quickly found themselves disarmed.

The arm flew up, still clutching the dagger as blood spluttered across another shadow, blinding him for a moment. It was in that moment that Anthony’s blade sank deep into the shadow’s chest. Before he could cough up blood onto the knight, Anthony tossed him against another shadow as he kicked the woman’s dagger, clashing with her.

“This knight! He’s not just an ordinary guy!” She began to sweat as she retreated, putting some space between the two of them. The other shadows were too late to heed her warning, with Anthony cutting off one’s leg, and then beheading another in a fluid motion.

“Isn’t it a little too late to realise your mistake?” Anthony hiccuped. “I am Sir Anthony, knight of Bloodwalls.” He inhaled deeply and then glared at the shadows. “Yet you dared to raise your blades against our little Jack.”

The woman’s entire body grew cold, and she shuddered under the deathly glare at the man. It wasn’t the glare which had caused her such terror, but the gentle smile on the knight’s face.

“You knew?” she whispered.

Sir Anthony remained smiling.

 

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