Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I dodged another swing of the knight's greatsword, the black stone blade whistling past my ear close enough to cut a few strands of hair. The ground where I had been standing a moment ago exploded into a shower of stone and dust, and I rolled to my feet, gasping for air.
Of course. Of fucking course.
I had spent three days wandering through that damn jungle, getting lost, finding my way, getting lost again. I had hunted monsters, stolen food from idiots who tried to jump me, and finally — finally — found my way out of those endless trees.
And what did I find?
Ruins. Blood. Bodies everywhere.
And Amelia, kneeling in the middle of it all, about to get her head cut off by a monster straight out of a nightmare.
My feet had moved before my brain caught up. Tempest met the knight's greatsword, black lightning screaming along the blade, and I had held it back. Barely.
