Shadow Born Legacy

Chapter 9: A Trail of Blood

The shadows closed in on Kael like a suffocating fog, the night air thick with the scent of death. His muscles screamed with pain as the strange elixir worked its twisted magic, healing his wounds with unnatural speed. But it wasn't enough. Not nearly enough. His body was still reeling from the brutal assault, his mind racing with the realization that the fight was far from over. That the real nightmare was just beginning.

The footsteps came again, slow and deliberate, the sound echoing off the crumbling walls of the ruined city. Kael's grip tightened on his sword, the steel still slick with blood. He could hear them now, the killers closing in, their whispers like cold winds on his neck.

"Fucking bastards," he muttered under his breath.

Selis lay motionless, her body crumpled against the alley wall. Her blood began spreading out across the ground. Kael's stomach twisted and dropped, but he pushed his emotions aside. Now was no time to let things get weak and fall apart. Not now when they almost finally had him at the point where everything would just come crashing down.

He entered the alley as silently as a killer. His face was obscured by his hood, revealing nothing of the cold, impassive expression. The killer didn't have to say a word; his very presence told Kael everything he needed to know.

Kael's heart pounded in his ears as his fingers strained on the sword. Its slick mess of blood was coating his hands as the killer glanced at him. Kael saw the mere flicker of recognition in his gaze before the killer lunged.

Kael didn't wait. He was already in motion, his sword slicing through the air in a deadly arc. The assassin blocked the strike with a sharp clang, but Kael followed up, spinning and driving his knee into the man's gut. This had enough force that it sent the assassin staggering back, but he quickly regained his balance and spun his own blade in deadly arcs.

Their blades clashed again, metal screaming against metal, sparks flying as they fought, a dance of death. Kael's mind was razor-sharp, every movement fueled by instinct and fury. He could taste the blood in his mouth, feel the adrenaline coursing through him like fire.

"You think you can beat me?" Kael growled through clenched teeth.

The assassin grunted silently and sprang again, his blade ready to take Kael's throat. But Kael was quicker, twisting aside at the last instant, evading the blow, and then sending the assassin crashing down upon the stone floor as he swept his legs out from under him. The man went down hard, but before Kael could have ended it there, another assassin leapt from the shadows, sword raised.

Kael had scant time to act.

The blade of the second assassin struck first, slicing through the air with deadly precision. Kael barely blocked in time, the force of the blow sending a shockwave of pain through his arms. He stumbled back, his vision swimming, and before he could regain his balance, the first assassin was back on his feet, charging once again.

F*ck.

Kael's sword felt slow in his hands now, his body betraying him. His side throbbed with pain, blood still leaking from the gash Darius had given him. His vision was blurring again, his head swimming with the effort to stay focused.

The second assassin stabbed again, the blade slicing across Kael's defense and scraping down his arm to leave a shallow cut. Kael felt a searing pain, but he refused to let it slow him down. He was far from done, not even close.

Kael launched himself forward with a roar, smashing his shoulder into the second assassin's chest and sending him off balance. The man staggered back, and Kael used the opening to thrust his sword into the assassin's gut with brutal efficiency. The man's eyes went wide in shock as Kael twisted the blade and then ripped it out, leaving him to collapse in a heap of blood.

"One down," Kael muttered, wiping the blood from his sword.

The first assassin charged again, and Kael barely had time to raise his sword before the man was on him, their blades clashing with sickening force. Kael's vision swam with pain, his muscles screaming for release, but he didn't give in. He couldn't. Not now.

A flash of movement drew Kael's eye: a third assassin, one faster and more deadly than the others. His blade was a blur as it sliced through the air, straight for Kael's throat.

Kael twisted at the last second, the blade skimming past his cheek and cutting deep into the skin. He felt warm blood drip down his face, but he didn't stop. He drove his sword into the ribs of the third assassin with so much impact that the man gasped for wind. The assassin stumbled back, but by the time he recovered, Kael had pressed on with a sickening crunch as the blade went through his chest.

"God fucking damn it," Kael muttered, his voice hoarse as he pulled his sword free. "I’m not dying tonight."

The first assassin, still standing, snarled in frustration. His eyes were wild, desperate. Kael could see it now he was losing control. They all were.

But Kael wasn’t finished. He was far from finished.

"You’re next," Kael growled, his voice low and lethal.

He attacked once more, but this time Kael was ready. He parried the strike, ducking under the assassin's blade and sweeping his legs out from under him. The man hit the ground with a sickening thud, but Kael didn't wait. He plunged his sword into the assassin's heart, finishing it with one final, brutal blow.

Gasping for breath, Kael towered over his freshly dead bodies, his chest heaving. There was blood everywhere: on the ground, soaked into the front of his clothes, and smeared across his hands. His body was screaming at him; his wounds were almost raw, but there was more than that the sharp, burning anger still fueling him. It wasn't over. It never was.

But then, he heard it. More footsteps.

Kael’s heart dropped. He wasn’t going to make it out of this. There were too many. They were too fast, too skilled. His head swam with dizziness, his vision going dark at the edges. The blood loss was too much.

And then, from the shadows, a voice.

"I must admit, Kael," it said, smooth and cold, "you’ve made this… interesting."

Kael's eyes jerked up to the speaker. Standing in the alleyway, watching him with an amused expression, was a figure swathed in darkness. Taller than any man, his presence made the air itself feel thick with menace.

The figure's face was hidden, but Kael could see the faint glint of steel in his hand a curved, vicious blade that gleamed in the moonlight.

"You've killed my men," the figure went on, his voice dripping with venom. "And for that, you will pay. Slowly."

Kael's stomach dropped.

"Who the f*ck are you?" he spat, his sword shaking in his hands.

The figure didn't respond. Instead, he stepped forward, his movements unnaturally smooth, as though he were gliding through the air.

"You're not going anywhere, Kael. You're mine now."

Kael’s heart hammered in his chest as the figure raised his blade, his eyes gleaming with an unholy hunger.

"You’re going to die," the figure whispered, and the world went black.