The spear quivered in the creature's chest, dark blood bubbling around the shaft. Maya stared at it, her chest heaving, knife still gripped tight in her right hand. Her left arm burned like fire where the claws had dug in, hot blood slicking down her skin.
Behind her, footsteps pounded the dirt road. Drosha burst into view first, tall and grim, another spear already cocked back in her hand. More Fiora hunters spilled out after her, ten, fifteen, then more, bows half-drawn, spears ready, faces set in that same focused calm Maya knew too well from their hunts together.
Sara's spell fizzled mid-cast as she caught sight of them, too. Her wand arm dropped a fraction. "Look, Maya. Your people, they… they all came back!"
Maya let out a shaky breath that turned into something close to a laugh. "Yeah, I can see that!"
The knot of terror in Maya's gut loosened just enough for her to feel how badly her legs wanted to give out.
For two endless minutes, death had been breathing down their necks. Now that the reinforcements poured in, for Maya, it felt like the ancestors themselves had answered her prayers.
The Fiora Tribe hunters didn't waste time on words. They flowed into the fight with smooth coordination.
Two spearmen stepped forward in sync, jabbing low to hamstring a creature while an archer behind them put an arrow through its eye. Drosha led the left flank, her spear flashing as she drove it clean through a monster's throat and twisted, yanking it free in one brutal motion. Bows thrummed. Blades sang.
All of them weren't being flashy here. Just showing how efficient their skills were.
"Form up!" Drosha barked, voice steady. "Protect the rear!"
Maya shoved herself upright, ignoring the hunter who tried to reach for her bleeding arm. "Stop treating me, there's no time for that," she growled, voice raw. "Join the fight. Go. Finish these abominations first."
The hunter hesitated only a second, then nodded and melted back into the line, before saying, "Your wish is my command, Niruha."
Sara tried to step forward again, but her knees buckled. A pair of hunters caught her before she hit the ground and pulled her back from the front, half-carrying her a few paces behind the new line.
She didn't fight them much, as her head spun too badly, a mana headache pounding behind her eyes like someone was hammering nails into her skull. Sweat stung her vision. Every breath tasted like copper and dirt.
After that, the tide of battle turned real fast.
With real numbers and experienced hands, the creatures didn't even stand a chance. What had felt like an endless wave moments ago now broke apart under coordinated strikes.
Claws met spears. Screams cut short by arrows.
Maya stayed in the thick of it, knife flashing as she also kept slicing those creatures, despite the blood running down her leg and arm. She refused to sit out. Not when her own people were fighting like real warriors.
-------
Minutes later, though it felt longer, the last creature fell with a wet gurgle, Drosha's spear buried in its chest. Silence dropped over the road, broken only by heavy breathing and the distant shouts from the village walls.
Then the Fiora hunters lifted their voices. A deep, rhythmic chant rose, tribal words mixed with sharp whoops of victory, the kind they used after a successful hunt or when driving off a predator that threatened the camp.
Sara could only make out some words they were chanting on top of their lungs. "Fiorai Jayathu!" It was the only word she could make out, as she knew what that word meant from her academy years. It was "Long live Fiora", or something like that.
It wasn't polished. It was raw, proud, echoing off the trees like a declaration that they still stood.
Even Maya joined in with a hoarse shout, leaning on her good leg, chest still burning. Sara, propped up between two hunters, managed a tired smile and raised a weak fist before putting her hand down out of cringe.
----
After a long time like that, the chant finally died down. The road grew quiet again except for the wind rustling leaves and the far-off sounds of the village.
That was when Lys came running up the road, boots kicking up dust. He had sprinted the whole way after the first wave of panicked evacuees spilled through the gates with wild stories about monsters on the road. His heart still hammered against his ribs, fear clawing at his throat the entire sprint, thinking something might've happened to Sara.
When his eyes finally locked on the scene ahead, he saw Maya and Sara standing near the center of the carnage, both covered in blood and dirt, clothes torn, bodies swaying with exhaustion. Sara looked like she could barely keep herself upright. Maya had an arm hooked around her shoulders, holding her steady, their heads close together.
Lys didn't hesitate. He closed the distance in seconds and slid an arm around Sara's waist, taking most of her weight from Maya. "What the hell happened? Are you two okay?"
Sara's breath hitched as she leaned into him, but she didn't answer right away. Instead, she turned her head toward Maya. Their eyes met, and something passed between them, quiet, exhausted, but real.
A small, shared smile tugged at both their lips, the kind that came after staring death down together and coming out the other side, by leaning on each other. It wasn't camaraderie or anything close to it.
It was a friendship, forged in the worst minutes of their lives.
Maya gave a slight nod, her bloody hand still gripping Sara's shoulder a moment longer before she eased back.
Lys blinked, glancing between them. "Uh… did I miss something?"
Neither woman said a word. They just kept that same small smile, too tired to explain, too content with whatever silent understanding they had reached.
Lys stood there, supporting Sara, completely lost.