Beautiful fertile women in their scantily clad bodies. Their slender, curvaceous and sweaty bodice glimmering like a tempest under the warm sun. Their lovely bosom jiggling in delight, seductively beckoning him to caress them.
Sigh.
Such a wonderful vision yet it was all an elaborate dream. An erotic one at that. Zandris, couldn't help but smile in his sleep.
The dream moved to this sexy little thing. A brunette whose name evaded his grasp. A waitress at his favorite pub. She kept giving him this sultry look all the while subtly touching him whenever she passed by. She was giving him the 'signals' that's for sure.
A gentleman that he is, he indulged her wishes and gave her a passionate night to remember. A sweaty and vigorous night that thawed the freezing winter.
A night that left her comatose.
As his mind recalled that night, his lips began curling upwards. He could almost taste those perky firm tattas once again. Those sexy sway of her hips as she ground on him like a bitch in heat. Her sexy pouty lips moaning his name in throes of ecstacy while he unmercilessly pounded her into submission.
Ohhh! Such a wonderful life.
Until it wasn't.
A loud explosion jolted him awake. His perverted dreams all but forgotten.
Without a moment's hesitation, he rolled over and crouched down with his body in a tight coil - ready to spring at a moment's notice. A shadowy mist engulfed his hand for just a second, then a sword manifested into his awaiting grip as the mist vanished.
NightFall.
A black full-tanged saber with a wicked curve that terminates into a stabbing point. Everything is black except for the curved silver edge with a subtle purplish hue emitting from it.
Beauty and terror all rolled into one. The 'elegance of death' as he called it. A masterpiece designed by a one of a kind Mastersmith.
Despite the situation, his heart beats steady and uncompromised. Not an ounce of nervousness nor fear in his core, and only the anticipation and excitement for what was about to unfold.
For fear and anxiety only causes hesitation, and in turn, it is nothing but a hindrance; slowing his crucial decision-making and delaying his reaction.
He waited patiently and listened intently to any sound. Several crucial seconds passed without nothing happening. Just when he thought it was a mere fluke, another explosion rocked the sleeping forest, causing the darkness of night flashed into a momentary brilliance.
However, Zandris now had an inclination of what was going on. He was just unfortunate enough to be at a closer vicinity. He relaxed, although now he is facing a new dilemma. Either to head to safer pastures or to satisfy his curiousity.
A sensible man that he is, he opted for the latter.
With a mental shrug, he raced to where the explosion came. Navigating the forest with little to no illumination is extremely difficult, but each explosion made it all possible. The burst of light was like a guiding beacon making it easy to pinpoint the exact location.
Upon cresting atop a hill, he found the perfect view to spectate.
This part of the forest is extremely thick of wood and all other kinds of vegetation, but all that's remain is a levelled ground with several uneven craters. Trees were devastatingly ravaged. Most were savagely cut in half while some were violently uprooted. On the ground, dozens of bodies scattered everywhere, either dead or possibly dying.
It was nothing but a battle - an intense one at that.
The cause of this devastation was none other than a woman. By using her abilities, she unleashed powerful attacks that wreaked havoc amongst her enemies. Scarily powerful.
Zandris snickered.
It seems the bandits who tormented these lands stumbled upon a formidable opponent. One that is proficient and well-trained not just in melee combat but has mastered her potent ability as well.
She could manipulate light energy, and utilized it accordingly to utmost perfection. She could either use those concentrated light into a burst type explosive attack, or create some sort of weaponry out of it. From what he'd seen, she could make a sword, a whip, a shield, and maybe a slew of others. Indeed she's versatile. Her offensive capability seems endless. Nevertheless, every attack from her causes lethal damage.
These bandits are weak. Their abilities laughable. They solely relied on heavy numbers to overpower their victims. They were, however, organized and smart. They used the knowledge of the terrain to their advantage to spring a trap for unsuspecting victims.
As a matter of fact, they tried that same tactic on Zandris just a week ago. They ambushed him but he easily dismantled their ranks. After losing two dozens in less than a minute with him still completely unscathed, they were wise enough to retreat.
The same could not be said about her.
She must have been caught offguard during an ambush for her to sustain such injuries despite the obvious skill disparity. Arrows poked out of her body and her left arm hangs limply just to name a few of her injuries. Her movements were sluggish and she's bleeding profusely. Every time she move, there was an obvious grimace on her bloodied face. Her valiant effort appears for naught as the battle neared its conclusion.
One bandit managed to sneak behind her and deliver a critical blow. She howled an anguish cry while dropping to her knees. Sensing weakness, the few remaining bandits quickly surrounded her.
Despite the inevitable end, she remained defiant and snarled. She looked desperate to release an ability, but it seems her body no longer cooperates. The injuries accumulated now finally taking its toll.
Zandris should have left. Actually, he should have left the moment his curiousity got satisfied. But his attention was captured by the woman's captivating and dazzling maneuvers. She is indeed a great fighter, and he wouldn't mind having a bout with her. Wounded or not, she was a hell of a combatant.
It's a shame her end was coming to a close.
Somehow, someway, her pitiable position dredged up memories long past forgotten. A soul-crushing memory of a time when he was a child. Weak, fragile, unable to defend himself from a stronger foe. Bloodied and beaten, desperation and agony engulfs him whole. But just when he thought his end has come, a stranger came to his aid. That stranger changed the course of his life and he has never been the same since.
And now he'll be that stranger for her. He's about to give her a gift; a second chance in life.
Zandris blurred from where he sat.
As the bandits readied for the killing blow, Zandris reappeared right on top of them. It was quick and over before the bandits could react. The slaughter ended in mere seconds as Nightfall weaved gracefully at his' expert hands. Each stroke of the sword delivered on-point fatal blows.
One by one the bandits dropped lifelessly.
The woman was surprised at his sudden appearance, but before she could utter a word, her eyeballs rolled upwards as she lost consciousness. Thankfully, Zandris was quick in catching her. He slowly laid her on the ground and check for pulse.
"Shit," he cursed softly.
It was really weak, but atleast she still hasn't succumbed to her injuries. There is still a chance she could survive this ordeal. He must work fast.
The shadowy mist engulfed his hands one again, replacing Nightfall with a round flask emitting a scarlet glow. Cautiously tipping the flask, the reddish liquid dribbled slowly into her slightly open mouth until a fourth of the content was gone.
The effect was immediate. Her body glowed a reddish hue as the healing potion did its work. However, purple blotches
in varying sizes
began boiling in her skin, causing him to mutter profanities.
Another flask appeared on his hand, this one emanates a greenish hue. Just as before, he tipped the contents slowly into her mouth. Having no idea what kind of poison was in her system, he emptied the entire content hoping it will suffice.
Satisfied for now, he quickly went to work. He cut her clothes, completely stripping her bare. As gentle as he could be, he removed the lodged arrowheads out of her body. Each time he took out an arrowhead, she whimpered while her body jerked.
Zandris plucked a total of eight arrowheads from her, and he couldn't help but admire the strength of her character. Her tenacity and resilience to live was astounding. A normal person sustaining the same injuries would have died on the spot.
Given the minimal light, he did his best to inspect her body from head to foot, but as far as he could tell, there were no more foreign materials embedded into her body. He'll have to check her again by daylight just to be sure.
A waterskin appeared on his hand and he cleansed the wounds thoroughly afterwards. The water inside has special healing properties, which would increase rejuvenation.
Afterwards, he emptied the rest of the healing potion in her. If she make it through the night, then her road to recovery would increase significantly. The healing potion and antidote, though slow in progress, would definitely have an effect since those she consumed were of higher-potency.
To stem the blood flow, a bandage appeared and he began wrapping her wounds. When it was all said and done, her body was ensconced entirely in bandages. Since she's beginning to shiver, an extra cloak
enchanted with natural heating
appeared and he wrapped her in it to keep her safe from the elements.
Finally, Zandris breathed a huge sigh of relief. He did all his best and he'd given her the best possible chance for survival. There is still a possibility that she might succumbed, but the treatments he administered greatly reduced that outcome.
The job's not done. This area is not a suitable place for them to stay. This carnage will attract 'mythical creatures' and other unwanted critters looking for a piece of meat. This place would be crawling with creatures in a couple of hours. He decided it's time to leave and find a safer haven to rest.
"Live," he whispered in her ear while gently picking her up.
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