Chapter 2: The Attack

Planet Penza- Forest

The Penza Forest was typically peaceful, with bird calls and animal noises heard even beneath the thick canopy. A solitary figure seated on a high branch observed the ground, remaining as silent and still as a shadow.

“Watch out!” someone shouted below. At that moment, a knife whizzed through the air where another figure had been, whistling past and sticking into a trunk.

“Damn, that was a close call,” said the man.

A man, gazing at the trees, said, “They’re coming from all around us.”

“I don’t think we can get past them in time,” a woman panted, dodging a spear that thudded into moss.

“Let them come; this will be their end,” a man snapped, driving his hammer-like weapon into the ground, sending dust and leaves scattering.

Another woman mentioned, “We have to keep moving, or we won’t be able to stop him,” her voice tense amid their breathing.

Suddenly, fourteen shapes appeared from the mist and surrounded them. The figure in the tree stood up straighter, eyes glowing with a threatening light, jaw clenched as if holding back something.

A shout cut through the air. One of the newcomers leapt high, spinning a spear so quickly that the air shimmered from the speed. Another charged ahead, twin knives flashing as flames flickered on his forearms. A third approached carefully, eyes locked on the group like a hawk stalking prey. Behind him, a fighter plodded along with an axe mighty enough to fell trees.

The man with the hammer moved forward into his stance. Suddenly, the spearman swiftly attacked, stabbing at the head. The clash of steel rang loudly like thunder. The hammer blocked just in time, absorbing the blow, legs momentarily buckling but holding firm. Dust flew outward in a circle.

The knife-fighter lunged at the man who had previously dodged him, wielding a flame-edged blade aimed at his throat, while his second strike swept low toward the abdomen. The defender successfully parried the low attack, sidestepped the other, and drove his knee into the attacker’s chest. The impact sent him backwards, with fire scattering into the damp air.

The axe-wielder moved forward next, roaring, with swings that were wild but heavy enough to shake the ground, each cut dragging a gust of dust behind it. His opponent raised both maul-like weapons, meeting every strike head-on in a flurry of sparks and thunderous impacts. Each blow echoed through the clearing like distant drums.

Three women stood back-to-back at the centre, while two others separated from the circle to approach them, their sabre-like blades flashing arcs through the smoke.

The first wielded a glaive that hummed as it swung through the air. The second raised a mace shrouded in a dull glow. The third brandished a short sword, her stance precise and focused. The clash of five weapons rang out across the clearing, steel striking steel, heat cutting air, a whirlwind of motion.

Leaves fell like rain, and the forest echoed with the sounds of strikes, parries, and breathing. Up above, the man on the branch leaned forward, eyes shining more brightly, while a faint sound of teeth grinding pierced the chaos below.

The mace swung low, aiming at an opponent’s legs. The opponent leapt away, twisting in mid-air, and brought their weapon down toward the glaive-bearer. Steel screeched as the sabre clashed against the glaive’s edge, the blades grinding together as both fighters struggled for control.

The glaive-user shifted her weight, spun around, and delivered a kick. The strike connected directly with the sabre-wielder’s chest, causing her to stumble backwards into the air before she collided forcefully with the roots of a tree.

Another sabre emerged from the side as a silver streak. The short-sword intercepted it sharply and accurately, its metal ringing through the clearing. A heartbeat later, the mace hit the attacker’s ribs with a dull thud.

The strike knocked the attacker’s breath out, causing her to stagger and lose balance, with one knee sinking into the mud. Before she could regain her footing, a mighty fist struck her chest, the force of it reverberating through the bones. She then fell flat onto the ground, with dust and leaves rising around them as the forest muffled the noise.

All attackers advanced together, their weapons flashing, while some charged without weapons.

A man faced the knife-wielder head-on. After a quick breath, he drew his twin silver daggers. He feinted a thrust with his left hand, then aimed a strike at the man’s ribs with his right, but the opponent did not bite. The attacker responded quickly with a headbutt to the face and a knee to the stomach. The defender dropped to one knee, gasping for air.

“Uruses!” Lyna shouted, twisting her glaive to deflect a sword aimed at her head. She spun around, pushing another attacker away with the butt of her weapon.

I’m ... okay, Lyna,” Uruses grunted, forcing himself upright.

He leapt and threw a dagger in mid-air. The attacker deflected it, then kicked him hard in the ribs, knocking him down. The fall gave him a chance to use his momentum to grab the dagger again and swiftly drive the hilt into another attacker’s stomach.