The earth rumbled beneath their feet.
With a shout, Matthew drove his blade into the ground, unleashing the third form of his sword style. Cracks split through the dirt like lightning bolts. The terrain shuddered. Nearby, two Garblins stumbled, screeching in confusion as their clawed feet lost traction on the shifting ground.
That was all the opening El and Leo needed.
They moved in unison, swift as shadows.
The Garblins hunched, four-foot-tall creatures with mottled gray skin stretched tight over sinewy limbs looked up just in time to realize their doom. Their faces were twisted mockeries of humanity, with sharp spines growing from their jaws like crooked fangs. Each one clutched a rusted, serrated blade, its edges stained with the old brown of dried blood. Alone, Garblin was a threat. In a pack, they were a massacre waiting to happen.
Thankfully, only two had revealed themselves so far. Which meant the rest of the pack was likely nearby… watching.
Leo took no chances.
He whispered under his breath, invoking the Old Tongue. The air shimmered.
A pulse of heat surged from his hand, and a sudden flash of fire burst near the creatures' eyes, not to burn, but to blind.
The Garblins shrieked in surprise, their claws flailing as their beady yellow pupils narrowed in pain.
By the time their vision cleared, El was already upon them.
Her blade sang once through the air, then twice.
Two heads hit the ground before their bodies had even collapsed.
Leo exhaled and relaxed his stance. "That was easy."
"Obviously," Matthew said smugly, holding his new sword up like a prize-winning trophy. "Thanks to my new blade."
He twirled it once, overly dramatic, the steel humming faintly through the air. The sword was heavier than his old one, built for cleaving instead of speed. Golden lining coiled around the grip like a serpent, and the dark steel shimmered faintly with enchantment in the sunlight.
Leo's gaze lingered on it, a strange tug stirring in his chest.
He remembered the first time he saw it, displayed in the back corner of a traveling blacksmith's tent. Among dozens of duller, plainer weapons, this one called to him, not through instinct or admiration, but something deeper. Recognition.
He couldn't explain it. The moment his eyes landed on that coiled golden grip and dark enchanted steel, it was like déjà vu. He had seen Matthew wielding that sword before… in a dream, maybe..
He wasn't even sure why, but he had nudged Matthew toward it that day. "That one," he'd said. "It suits you."
And now, here they were. Reality catching up to dream.
Matthew cradled the sword like a newborn. "Honestly, I think she likes me. She cuts cleaner than anything I've ever held."
"You're going to cut your own face off if you keep doing that," El muttered, walking past him.
Matthew froze mid-twirl, blinking. "What? No I'm not."
"Yes. Yes, you are."
She didn't wait for an argument.
Instead, she crouched beside one of the Garblin corpses, inspecting it closely.
"They were scouts," she murmured. "That means the den isn't far. And judging by their direction…"
She stood, wiping her blade clean against the coarse gray hide of the dead monster.
"…they were heading back."
Leo nodded grimly. "Then we better move. Before the rest decide to come looking for them."
Matthew reluctantly slid his sword back into its sheath, patting the hilt like it was a loyal pet. "Fine. But next time, I'm naming this thing."
"No," El and Leo said in unison.
He groaned. "You guys are no fun."
They found the den hidden beneath a rocky outcrop, a jagged gash in the hillside, yawning like the mouth of a beast. Vines dangled from its lip. The stench wafting out was foul and coppery.
The trio crouched low behind a patch of wild bushes, peering through the leaves.
Leo squinted. "Fifteen," he whispered, counting the shadowy figures inside. "All armed. All ugly."
Inside the den, the Garblins snarled and clicked at each other in their guttural tongue, scuttling about like oversized vermin. Some sharpened their blades against the cave wall; others chewed on bones.
Leo turned to the others, voice low and urgent. "How do we take them? One wrong move and we're garblin-chow."
El rubbed her chin in thought, then gave a tiny shrug. "Let's face them head-on."
"Head-on?" Leo hissed. "Did you hear me? Fifteen. That's fifteen. That's like... twelve more than three. Which is us. We are three."
"Sure," El said, calmly. "But we're faster. You support us. Matthew and I charge in."
Leo opened his mouth, then closed it again.
"You're serious."
"Unless you want to be bait again," she added, raising a brow.
Leo blinked. "You know, suddenly your plan sounds flawless. Let's go."
El turned to Matthew. "Matt."
He looked up. "Yeah?"
"Do you want to finish this quickly?"
"…What kind of question is that? Of course I do."
"Good." She smirked. "I give you permission to use half your skills."
Matthew narrowed his eyes, suspicious. "Only half?"
She nodded. "Let's not blow up the whole forest."
He sighed, standing up and stretching his shoulders. "Alright, alright. Half it is."
The plan was set.
Leo went first. He conjured a ball of fire in his palm, muttering under his breath. With a flick of his wrist, the flame launched across the clearing and struck one Garblin square in the chest.
The creature screeched. The rest spun toward the flames, eyes glowing yellow with rage.
The moment their attention shifted, El and Matthew broke cover.
El whispered in the Primal Tongue, and wind burst beneath her feet like an invisible gale. She shot forward like a blur, sword gleaming. She was a hurricane with a blade slicing through one Garblin, then another.
Behind her, Matthew moved slower… deliberately.
He planted his feet and raised his sword. But he didn't swing. Not yet.
Leo stayed behind, throwing bursts of wind and flame to keep the Garblins from surrounding El.
"Matt!" El shouted between strikes, "Any time now?!"
"Hold on," Matthew called back, bracing. "Just charging up!"
El ducked a swipe, spun, kicked a Garblin in the face, then shouted again, "This would be a great time to stop charging and start killing!"
She was getting overwhelmed. Blades scraped against her shoulder armor, and one Garblin nicked her cheek. Leo blasted it with a firebolt before it could strike again.
Then Matthew's voice rang out across the chaos.
"LEO—NOW!"
Leo didn't hesitate. He chanted quickly, calling flame not to strike, but to serve.
The fire curled from his hand and raced toward Matthew's blade, wrapping it like a lover.
Matthew's sword lit up in a blaze of orange and gold, heat shimmering in the air.
"El—DUCK!"
She didn't hesitate either.
El dropped flat to the ground, practically kissing the dirt.
Matthew stepped forward and unleashed his strike.
"Second Style: Flame Tear"
The blade slashed through the air but it was more than a slash. The fire leapt from the edge like a wave, roaring across the clearing. It didn't need to touch flesh. The sheer force of it tore through the ranks of Garblins, cleaving through armor, hide, and bone.
Half the cave entrance exploded in flame and dust.
When the smoke cleared, scorched Garblin corpses littered the ground. The few that still moved twitched feebly, then stilled.
Leo let out a low whistle. "Damn. So that's the Scorching Sword Style."
Matthew extended a hand to El. She took it and stood, brushing dirt off her knees.
"Told you it'd be faster," she said, tapping his shoulder with a smirk.
"You did good, Matt," Leo added, clapping him on the back.
Matthew puffed his chest out, beaming. "I know."
They made their way into the cave, the heat still radiating from the stone. Aside from charred corpses and melted blades, they found scattered loot trinkets, a pouch of forty silver coins which is four gallion, a cracked gem, and a couple of half-eaten boots.
"El, is this… is this someone's leg?" Leo asked, holding something up by the toe.
"Put that down," she said flatly.
"Right. Yeah. Sorry."
Matthew pulled off a necklace from one of the Garblins, inspecting the crude carving. "Think this is worth anything?"
"To someone who collects cursed junk, maybe," Leo said.
They collected the Garblins' ears as proof of the kill, along with anything salvageable from the den.
As they stepped out of the cave, Matthew held up a melted helmet.
"Can I keep this as a trophy?"
"Only if you don't name it," El said without looking back.