Light breaks through in to my vision.
As if leaning down and caressing my hair, the light envelops me.
It's enough to numb the pain in my mind, even if only for a moment.
Quick as it appeared, the light vanished and the pain returned.
A wave of strength flushes over me.
My right hand rips itself off the pinned position it was forced in by the two sharp metal tips lodging it into the dirt. Flesh and bone are exposed to the wind, yet the pain that should've come along with the injury doesn't appear.
I turn over and grip the spear lunging for me with my left hand.
Anger boils inside me.
With a small crack, the spear breaks off before I turn the tip around at its previous owner and throw it upwards.
The soldier who was attempting to end my life falls on to my chest with a metal tip now striking through his throat.
Teeth grinding even harder, I toss him a few feet to the side before my legs quickly stumbling up.
Dozens of stunned gasps escape from the soldiers before I grab the blade of an oncoming attack with my mangled right hand.
The fingers attatched to that hand barely respond to my commands.
Clutching the blade clumsily, it crumbles into multiple shards which cling onto my bloody palm.
I step forward and slam my palm into the face of my attacker before his mind can comprehend.
The many shards lodged in my hand now stab at and find themselves mixed in his face.
Both of his eyes are quickly pierced by the shards while the rest of his face follows a similar fate.
Without blinking, I force my hand to slide down his face.
The man's eyes split in half as the remainder of his face becomes covered in gnashes multiple inches in length.
Pushing my hand harder against his face causes the shards of his blade to become stuck along his mouth and cheeks.
My chest feels hollow.
Gripping it, I can feel the hole made by the man whose life I'd just taken. Blood pours down my stomach and lower back as wind trails through the hole like a needle while sewing.
Freeing my hand from the dead soldier's face, a spear quickly dashes towards my chest.
I step to the side and grab at the handle before snatching it from the soldier.
His face turns from anxious to frightened as my grip disallows him from moving the weapon.
He steps back and tries raising his hands, but his spear, now in my possession, finds itself lodged into his temple before the action is completed.
Killing the two men doesn't quell my anger, instead it only causes me to grow more furious.
The pain in my head still hasn't subsided even a little.
More lines appear.
One aims for my head, another for my chest, and the last one for my heart.
An arrow and two more swords make their way towards me in a desperate attempt to avoid further casualties.
Catching the arrow in my mangled right palm before it reaches my face, I jam it into the eye of the closest attacker before taking his sword and slamming it against the sword of the second attacker.
The blade quickly falls from my opponent's hands, mostly due to the strength of my swing causing his hands to recoil in a jittering pain.
Dispatching the first attacker by running my blade cleanly from his left ear to right ear, which ends up severing the top half of his head from the rest of his body, my left hand catches the still falling blade of the second attacker.
The sensation of taking his life gives me a brief moment of relaxation from the pain I'd felt.
I take a small breath before both swords run through the man's chest as I split them apart, causing it to tear open.
He falls onto the floor, writhing in pain, as his exposed chest splurts blood.
His ribs are visible along with whatever skin was left holding his torso.
Yet again, I feel nothing while raising my foot and slamming it down towards his chest, rubbing my foot around slightly inside him.
I can feel his ribs and organs crush under the pressure of my stomp as he grows limp a few moments of pure agony later.
Something inside me grows softer with his death.
Multiple soldiers stare in shock, but I pay them no mind.
Locking eyes with the archer who'd fired his arrow, my left hand reels back.
He turns to run however the sword in my left hand soars across the clearing and runs straight through his leg, causing him to collapse.
Retracting my foot from the warm pool of blood, squished organs, and bones below it, I take a step forward.
Reaching down and picking up my previously discarded sword, longer than the soldiers', I glare around at the clearing and treeline behind me.
Some soldiers are still gripping their blades, ready for a fight, while others take small steps away from me.
Without a word being spoken, at least a dozen of them darted for me.
The black lines return to grant me aid.
My eyes begin to sting, they'd been stinging since the lines appeared, but now more than ever they begged to be shut.
Along with my eyes, the pain in my head grew stronger which in turn caused me to grow more angry.
In quick succession, I slammed my swords against those of the two soldiers' weapons closest to me. The strength of my blows caused their grip to weaken, and using that moment, I would free my hands and crush the tips of their weapons before arming myself again before my blades had time to fall.
With their weapons now useless, I thrust my right blade inside one of their skulls before doing the same with my left blade.
Digging the blades out of their faces, my body flips around and leaps at the next set of soldiers.
Three men stood in front of me, so I knocked their blades one at a time with my own sword before thrusting the blade of their fallen brother through their necks.
With the death of the fifth man of the twelve strong mob, my shorter blade split at the tip.
My eyes twitched with both pain and annoyance as a bloody tear formed at their corners.
Now armed with only one blade, I turn towards the 7 remaining men with my right hand free.
Their steps had become intune with one another as each and every one of their blows strike at the same time.
The coordination is troublesome enough to make me back away. Taking another direct blow wouldn't be a smart thing to do.
Does it matter?
Attempting to back away, my body instead stops instantly and lurches forwards towards the black lines.
Raising my blade, I can swipe away the majority of oncoming attacks, but two of them are still unavoidable.
My right hand raises and grips the arm of one of the two immediate attackers before ripping it off the socket and then completing detaching it from his body as the final incoming attack inches closer.
Completely avoiding the attack is out of the question, but I'm able to turn to the side just enough for the blade to run deep into my shoulder.
Something is wrong.
My vision flashes for a brief moment.
Instead of the black lines, a thick line of pure light trails off my eye and leads towards the forest.
I begin to panic.
Something is very wrong.
The pain in my head grows even stronger as I clench my eyes shut.
A small clank echoes out as the blade of the man bounces off my bare shoulder.
"W-What the f—"
Clutching the attackers face, I slam it into the ground below.
A squelching sound rings out.
Like a fruit being crushed between my finger.
I pay it no attention.
Instead, my attention is focused on the light.
Attempting to follow it, more soldiers step in my way.
All seems blank as I cut down soldier after soldier that stands infront of me.
Killing them no longer subdues the pain in my head.
Disregarding any caution, I force myself past the army trying to kill me.
Their blades can't pierce my skin.
My hands are enough to break their equipment.
It takes less than minute to dispatch more soldiers than I can count before no one else stands in my way.
As my feet push off the ground, desperately following the light through the forest, I catch a glimp of a young soldier on his knees. He outstretchs his hand and points a finger towards me.
"D-Demon!"