And with a sideways glance, the mercenary now observes the situation of his companion while picking up Lozar’s shield and sword.

  “Better hurry up there! We already got what we wanted.” The words come out together with a restrained smile at the corner of his mouth.

  The other mercenary sighs very quickly and also pulls a small crystal from his pocket. This one has a blood-red tone and is more rounded, almost like an N2 core.

  “By blood life is…”

  He even tries to recite it, but soon finds himself forced to pause as he throws himself to the right side and makes a lateral roll to dodge a short burst of shots from Draus, who had been eager for such a moment. Even before the mercenary can afford the luxury of getting up, he needs to force another roll to dodge another burst of shots, but this time he executes it more cleanly, enough to end in a more comfortable position and thus throw the dagger in Draus’s direction.

  When the blade hits his thigh, a short and rebellious grunt slips through his lips. Even with the pain, he does not let himself be shaken and prepares to fire another burst, but is interrupted when an arrow sinks into his back and timidly appears through his chest. It is not the side of the heart, but it hardly matters when he begins to feel the air stop flowing inside, and the place being taken by blood.

  The archer perched on the branch sighs in relief while closing his eyes for a moment. His grayish gaze together with his garments made of thin fabric of the same tone almost hides him completely among the treetop, if it were not for the reddish strands that sway out of the hood and at times shine with some beams of light that pass through the leaves.

  Then he remembers something important, when he turns to the hill on the left again, there she is, lying down and aiming. He already begins to prepare a new arrow, a little longer than the previous one.

  First the blade pierces the torso from the side, and then buries itself in the heart, and lastly, the sound of another shot echoes across the plain.

  Already without strength and feeling the cold touch of the one who awaits him at the end of everything, he still forces a shot downward in the direction of Miriane, who watches him from the ground with a focused look and breath panting. The arrow sticks into the ground a few meters away from her, and the body falls already stripped of the veil that covers everyone.

  While walking with slow steps and breathing more deeply, Miriane looks to the side to see the situation amid the cornfield. The blond-haired man holds Lozar’s shield and sword while casting a distant glance toward the hill. Beside him a corpse, and farther back, three more.

  After picking up the sword and wiping it on the archer’s clothes, she already turns toward him with a serious and focused look. The sword in her hands assumes the same position as when she was still at the top of the hill.

  The mercenary then sees her under the tree in such a pose beside his companion’s body. Immediately he drops the sword and shield, and pulls another bluish crystal from another pocket while drawing his own sword from the sheath.

  “A thousand nights and a thousand days.

  Infinite deaths and a single life.

  Before those who rise against me.

  I will use you for a single end.

  And when the blood is spilled.

  May this act be forgiven.

  Even under the eternal sun.

  Or before the fire itself.

  My vastness shall endure.

  For in this game.

  I am the one who carries the very end.”

  When he finishes, with the sword in one hand and the crystal in the other, he notices that she is already approaching at a speed that would make even the fastest boar feel envy.

  At the end of the run, placing her left foot forward, Miriane executes a horizontal cut while holding the sword with both hands and twisting her torso with all her strength. Her sword is longer than his, the reach of the movement is also greater than he expected, thus Miriane ended up right at the edge of the cooling zone.

  The mercenary even manages to position his sword to block. But just as the blue blade shatters before his eyes, his head separates from his body before hers.

  From the top of the hill, through the scope of the weapon, Sarah begins to relax her body for a moment, but soon in her peripheral vision a pair of legs and boots position themselves beside her, making her heart lose its rhythm.

  Stolen story; please report.

  “You can relax.” Miguel’s voice mixes with the wind and slides through the place, disappearing behind Sebastian who, even with his hands bandaged, carries Lafral on his back.

  Sarah answers nothing, and does not even look at him or back, she only returns to observing through the scope with a neutral gaze.

  “Even if you tried, you would hardly hear me arrive.” Miguel speaks already with binoculars in hand and analyzing the situation. “Just be careful, because focusing too much on something can leave you vulnerable. The rest, you already know.”

  The gaze that crosses the scope drops for a moment toward the ground, but soon returns to what matters.

  “Beautiful day for a test.” He lets the words out while already looking down in search of Iris and Bernardo.

  His look even becomes more serious and focused when he sees the scene.

  Iris comes out of the woods with Bernardo on her back, he is without the helmet and unconscious. She also drags the unresponsive body of one of the mercenaries by the hood.

  Miguel then leaves his position and begins to descend to meet her. Sarah even watches for a moment the scene of him transferring Bernardo onto his back, but soon resumes her focus on Miriane.

  “That arrow passed scraping by my head.”

  “Good thing you didn’t decide to jump at that moment.” Lafral laughs while still making a grimace of pain.

  “If I had jumped there, I would have lost all the support that allowed me to defend that strike.”

  “If it weren’t for her, we would be screwed.” Lafral looks forward and downward, but when his eyes first meet Sarah’s butt, he forces himself to look away until Sebastian sets him down at the foot of the tree beside her.

  “Damn! There’s no one left!” Sebastian even lets his tone rise unintentionally for a moment.

  “What? What do you mean?” Lafral asks while even daring to turn a little, but soon gives up upon realizing he would not be able to see anything. The only thing he manages to observe is Miguel arriving there while carrying Bernardo and being followed by Iris along with the mercenary still being dragged.

  In silence, he and Sebastian observe the white strands with purple streaks that flutter with the stronger breeze of the place.

  “Rip his hood with that sword and tie his legs and arms.” Miguel pulls the sword from Bernardo’s waist and hands it to Iris, who nods.

  “What happened to him?” Miguel asks her without looking while laying Bernardo on the ground and beginning to examine him.

  “While we were facing the merc…”

  Cutting the explanation, the deafening sound of another shot makes everyone there put their hands over their ears. Even Bernardo and the mercenary wake up in fright. The first thing Bernardo sees is Miguel standing while raising the binoculars to his eyes. The mercenary, however, first glimpses the blue gaze focused on him, and then feels the cold and pointed blade threatening to pierce his throat.

  He can barely breathe.

  “Professor, drag him to that tree please.” Iris speaks without losing her composure and focus.

  “Sarah, save ammunition, she can handle them.” Miguel, more relaxed, walks to the mercenary and does what she asked. Iris in turn does not remove the blade from his throat for even a second. The moment after being placed at the foot of the tree, he even dares to move his lips and pull in a bit of air, but quickly feels the blade press a little more while Iris places a finger over her own lips in a clear sign for him to be silent.

  His tiny moment of rebellion dissolved as quickly as a thin pile of sand in the midst of a hurricane.

  And so they remain sitting facing one another.

  “How many were there?” Miguel asks Iris while returning to Bernardo, who remains silent with a hand on his head.

  “Three, they appeared right when we were about to take this one down. Bernardo couldn’t dodge, he even tried to jump, but took a shock straight in the legs, and while still on the ground, another one came and ripped off his helmet with its fangs.”

  “That doesn’t make sense, it was supposed to be just one.” Miguel runs his hand over Bernardo’s head and finds a small bump on the back of his neck, pulling a groan of pain from him.

  “At least this one here served to kill one of them that knocked him down and was already starting to bite his clothes.” Iris releases the words into the air while staring at the mercenary and the medium black strands of his hair.

  “That was when we split up, because he started running and fleeing, and she went after him after throwing her sword into one of the boars that was coming to strike me while I was still on the ground.”

  Bernardo takes advantage of the moment of respite to explain with his gaze lowered and distant.

  “But the other came at me with everything, and I was without the sword. He hit me right in the middle of the armor, so I ended up hitting the back of my head against a tree and getting dizzy. But since I managed to grab the sword that was near the tree, at least I could thrust it into the eye and kill it. After that everything went dark and here I am.”

  Miguel shifts his gaze to Iris for a moment, then returns to Bernardo.

  “Good work!” He gently strokes Bernardo’s head while standing up. “I’ll go get the other one, don’t lose focus.”

  He speaks while turning and disappearing behind the hill.

  Through the scope of the weapon, and through the binoculars, Sarah and Sebastian refuse to miss a single second of that clash. With explosive bursts and low and precise cuts, Miriane slices the front legs of some and the hind legs of others. Seven boars in total are on the ground writhing and growling in pain. One by one, they are finished with precise blows to the neck that make them lose their heads.

  After some time, Miriane, who has already returned to the hill, stands upright facing the Mercenary who still has a piece of the arrow stuck in his leg.

  “I think we should kill one of them. Two will be too much work to take care of.” The words that come from her mouth make their filthy hearts lose all the warmth they had until then.