The heat from the pillar immediately scorched the trees and the earth within its proximity, consuming everything in its path and leaving ashes in its wake.
Armand quickly put his holy barrier up, layering it several times to withstand the attack. The radiating heat warmed his sword and metal plate to the point that it was quite uncomfortable, but Armand never relaxed his grip on his sword. From the gaps of the flaming tongues, he could see the mage nearly passed out from mana deprivation, and the uncloaked man unconscious on the floor from severe bleeding.
He clicked his tongue. Mages were always tricky to deal with. This kind of spell would not go out quickly unless the mana ran out by itself or due to the death of the caster. In that case...
Holding up the barrier with his left hand, he poured some divine power into his sword and adjusted the grip on the hilt of his sword. With one smooth motion, he launched his sword - just like he would do with a spear - towards the unsteady mage.
In an almost seamless manner, the sword stabbed the mage's body, impaling him to a large tree behind.
The fire continued to burn for a while until there was not enough mana fueling it. The world suddenly became much quieter.
Armand glanced behind him. Sir Kingsley had managed to take down the two intruders, although he looked slightly worse for wear.
Sighing, Armand walked towards the dead mage and retrieved his sword. After wiping it clean and putting it back into its sheath, he looked up as the first streak of dawn broke the darkness.
***
Dame Ardent crouched down, studying the footprints left behind by the mercenary.
He should be around here, she thought.
Focused on tracking, she was almost too late to react to an attack - an arrow whizzing past her ear and grazing her cheek.
"Damn it!" She immediately drew her sword and, sensing someone behind her at the last minute, managed to parry.
Her attacker was heavily cloaked, but seemed pretty skilled. Her senses were heightened as she tried to guess the position of the archer.
Another arrow grazed her shoulder, this time deep enough to make her grit her teeth. Blood immediately gushed from the open wound. In the darkness, she took deep breaths to soothe her nerves.
Two o'clock.
This time, when another arrow was fired, she evaded with ease. Now that she figured out the attacker's position, she could anticipate the next attack. Even if they moved to another location, they would usually have to take a few seconds to position themselves or sacrifice accuracy.
A few seconds were all she needed.
Dodging the swordsman's frontal attack, she sidestepped and delivered a strong kick to his shin.
"This bi***..!" However, the man did not have time to finish his curse as Veronica delivered a downward slash, severing his neck in one swift motion.
Without pausing, she immediately had to evade another arrow again. That archer was starting to get on her nerves. But as she waited for the next assault, there was nothing.
After a couple of seconds, a rustling sound immediately caused her to be on guard, but instead, a red-headed man with a scar on his face appeared from the darkness, dragging along what looked like an unconscious person.
Flint lighted up as he saw Veronica.
"Ah! Dame Ardent! Good to see you here!" He glanced at the decapitated man on her feet. "I see you've managed to finish one of them, good, good."
"Mr Blackthorn..." Veronika observed the man, who had blood splatters all over his light metal armour, but did not seem to bear any visible injuries. "Are you okay?"
"Very lovely to hear someone finally worrying about me! I'm fine, Dame Ardent, although I can't say the same for our friend here." He dropped the person he was carrying onto the ground. Bending down, he lifted the hood that covered the man's face.
Veronika gasped.
Flint sneaked a glance at Veronika. "A friend of yours?"
"Well.. he..." Veronika looked agitated. "He's one of ours...the Archon's men! I recognise him, he's one of the recruits!"
Flint raised his brow. "I see." He bent down to pick one of the arrows and extend it to her. "Does this belong to the Dohara Knight Legion?"
Veronika took the arrow and examined it, but shook her head. "No. This doesn't bear any trace or marking that we usually put on our arrows." Still agitated, she looked around. "What about the others? How many of them do you think are still out there?"
"Hmm... I've killed about 12 of them, you've killed one, and this one is here..." Flint was counting with his fingers. "Well... I guess there are some 30-ish left for Armand and that mage lady to deal with?"
"12?? Did you say you killed 12 of them by yourself??"
"Ah yeah, I was lucky none of them was a mage..."
"Wait, that's not the important thing, we should go help Lady Mizan! Even though she's a mage, she and Sir Regulus are quite young..."
"Hmm..."
Both of them could not help but look up at the sky as the first light of dawn broke the darkness.
"I don't think she needs our help, really."