The Foolhardies 132 Cloak and Dagger Part 2

"Don't even joke about that Collin," Connor hissed at his brother. "If they figure out we've been spying for the other team… it won't just be us… the Black Hand will murder anyone connected to us."

"Grandpa," they both said together. Then Collin added, "Mom… uncle Pat… Shit."

"Relax," I said in a calming voice. "We'll escort you out the back way."

I glanced over to Varda, who, despite the number of rock beer she'd consumed, was alert enough to notice the exploding fist I made with my left hand.

"Aw, muds!" she yelled really loudly. "Here I am kicking back for the first time in ages after I'd finally gotten away from my slave driver of a boss," she winked at me as she said this, "and what do I find, a bunch of Scarlet Moon bastards walking into this dinky tavern…"

At the mention of Scarlet Moon, two things happened. The dudes in red, all of them drow, turned their arrogant faces at Varda, and, as if galvanized by Varda, the patrons of the Cold Steel Brew began glaring daggers at the new arrivals, some of them even reaching for their weapons.

Here was another clear sign that hatred for the Scarlet Moon was nearly universal.

Varda, noticing she had more allies now, bellowed out a peal of laughter. Then, as if she'd rehearsed it beforehand, she picked up the mug she'd just emptied and threw it into the direction of the Scarlet Moon.

It sailed high over the heads of other patrons before it crashed on the floor five feet to the right of the nearest target.

Her poor aim aside, it did the job of rousing all parties involved in beginning that timed honored tradition known as a bar fight.

Chaos erupted around us.

Wooden plates and metal tankards went soaring, crashing onto drunk fairies and viseres who'd risen to the call of madness. Projectiles of fruits and meats slapped laughing faces. There was even the lively singing of a gnome bard spurring the chaos on with his song of fairy private parts.

I took this as our cue to exit. I led my three companions to the bar, stopping to drop a Leprechaun in the bartender's hand and winking over at Donar who was already in the midst of casting a spell, before walking into the kitchen. From there, it was a short walk to the back door and then out into the fresh cavern air.

Only, instead of that fresh air I expected, the scent that assaulted my lungs was distinctly familiar. I'd smelled it enough on a battlefield to recognize that stifling metallic odor. It was the scent of blood—lots of it.

I glanced down. There was a severed paw with white fur just lying there. Blood oozed out of it. The rest of the kobold the paw belonged to was leaning on the right wall of the narrow alleyway I'd just stepped into. There were way too many slashes on his body for him to still be alive.

Another kobold lay dead on the ground about four meters away. This one's body had been savagely hacked into a furry mess too.

"You guys stay back," I whispered to the McCords. I kept my eyes forward and staring at the moving shadows near the end of the alleyway. "Aura, don't interfere unless you absolutely need to."

Aura held onto my word arm. "There are seven of them, Dean…"

I shrugged her off. "They should have brought more…"

Why was I suddenly so angry? It wasn't like I knew the kobolds that had been mutilated in this alleyway apart from them being part of Thor's crew. But that was just it. They may have been new to the unit but they were Foolhardies nonetheless. And I loved dogs so these two at least needed to be avenged. Besides, the two McCords were right behind me, and under no circumstances could their identities be revealed.

I took two steps forward. The shadows mirrored my movements.

In hindsight, if I hadn't seen Enna blend so well with the shadows earlier that night, I might have been a little more alarmed at the enemy drow getting ready to attack me.

"I've been training nonstop under Azuma for weeks, and he's a really good teacher," I said, placing a hand on my falchion. "Now I get to test just how much I've grown."

I closed my eyes and willed my fairy gift into waking. "Oh, great fool, let me see the unseen that I might know the unknowable."

As my vision adjusted to account for the darkness of the alleyway, the half-visible drow forms were fully revealed to me. Fool's Insight battle mode had activated.

Fearless, that's how I felt at that moment. Like Daredevil readying to face off against thugs in a narrow hallway.

I took in a deep breath and exhaled it in one go.

The shadows stirred.

But I jumped forward first.

I drew my falchion forward just as a drow assassin leaped out of the shadows with twin shadowblade daggers in hand.

It launched an attack that would have cut into both of my shoulders if my quick draw wasn't faster.

I drew a red line across the drow's abdomen in one quick slash. My momentum continued, and with a quick dextrous flip of my fingers, I reversed my grip on the falchion and sent it slashing in a backward line across the one I'd already drawn in the drow's stomach.

Dark elf blood gushed out of the gaping wound. The drow toppled forward in a wordless scream.

I was already rushing past it.

Another shadow dashed toward me.

The glint of a shadowblade sprang forth as the drow drew its katana forward.

With my falchion still in a reverse grip, I parried her attack. Then I twisted my wrist to the right and sent my shadowblade slashing across the drow's chest, cleaving through her light armor like it was nothing more than Swiss cheese.

Spirits, I really loved my falchion's vibro-sword enhancement.

But even a deep gash in the chest failed to kill this drow—perhaps because her ample bosom had protected her heart—so I followed up, and keeping that reversed grip, stabbed right into the drow's open mouth.

As death took her, a third drow launched an attack at me.

This one was male, bald, with pale eyes that were almost white but had a shade of violet in their irises.

The drow held his katana high and ready to slash down at me.

Honestly though, after seeing me dissect his companions in the chest, it might have served the drow better to be defending his front instead. I guess he hadn't thought about that.

I took a single step forward and parried the downward slash just before it could gain momentum.

Our shadowblades ground against each other as my falchion trailed the edge of his katana.

Next, I grabbed onto my sword hilt with my left hand and used it to switch my right hand back to an upright grip. In the next breath, I slashed upward and claimed the life of a third drow assassin.

In my head, I wondered why it had become so easy. Not the killing part. Each deathblow still sent a guilt-ridden pressure into my chest. But the fighting, that had become much easier now.

This may well have been because Azuma was a really good master. And not to toot my own horn, but perhaps I really had leveled up to the point that anyone who wasn't at least a mini-boss was now small fry to me. Maybe.

A sudden chill made the hairs on the back of my arms stand on end.

An arrow zoomed toward me. It was death on wings, and yet, it was pretty easy to block with my sword.

"Holy crap," I whispered. "I didn't just do that…"

A fourth drow came charging at me. He was way bulkier than the rest of those who'd challenged me. Behind him, the fifth drow had just finished notching a second arrow to her bow.

Man, Fool's Insight really was a cheat, I thought just as I stepped forward and stabbed the macho-man drow in the right leg.

While he screamed in pain, I spared a second to feel impressed with how Fool's Insight broadened my field of view as well as my options. What did I mean by that? Well, you're about to find out.

I kicked at the drow's other leg, forcing him to sway to the right just as the other drow assassin launched her arrow. Obviously, it hit him in the back instead.

He screamed in pain a second time, distracting him long enough for me to slide my shadowblade across his throat at the same time as I pulled his katana away with my free hand.

No, I wasn't planning to dual wield. I just wanted something I could use to throw at the archer who was already notching a third arrow onto her bow.

Unfortunately for her, by the time she drew her bow and pointed it at me, the katana I'd borrowed from the other guy was already sailing toward her.

The katana's shadowblade's charred edge embedded itself into her chest. She left out a single gasp before crumpling to the ground.

"Five down, two to go," I whispered.

The two remaining drow were near the end of the alleyway. Neither of them had moved to help their comrades out.

Looking at how laid back their postures were, I assumed these two seemed like they were confident they would succeed where their friends had failed.

The closest drow was a pale-skinned, gray-haired male with a track star's build. In his hands was a nodachi, a curved sword with a much longer reach than a katana.

His companion, the one standing behind him, was a female whose face was covered in a mask. One I recognized instantly. It was the mask rider who'd helped Ardeen Spellweaver slay his father.

In that moment, alarm bells rang inside my head, and I was suddenly very glad that the twins hadn't stepped out of the door or else she would have recognized them instantly.

"You," I growled. "I owe you a punch in the gut."

She didn't respond. She simply continued to stare daggers at me while her companion stepped forward.

He moved much quicker than the four others I killed, and in one quick motion, had already raised his nodachi high with both hands. 

If only the distance between us hadn't been too big. If only he'd rushed forward while I killed his friends. Perhaps then, he might have injured me.

However, he was too far away and too easily caught within the boundary of my Basilisk's Eye.

"Oh, great fool, let my sight turn deathly cold that I might turn my foes to stone," I whispered.

The number of times I could use the skill had jumped to a total of three before I used up my gift for the night, and that wasn't the only improvement. Basilisk's Eye now managed to keep even strong opponents like Azuma locked in place for three whole seconds. Now, that may not sound like much but three seconds is a lifetime in a life and death struggle.

In this case, three seconds was enough for me to bridge the distance between us and plunge my falchion through the drow's neck, all while it struggled helplessly under my gaze.

The sixth drow fell in an almost slow-motion-like manner and leaving the way open for the final boss of tonight's encounter.

I tightened my grip on my sword hilt as adrenaline coursed through me. Tonight, I didn't think I could lose. And there was no better way to test my new limits than to face off with an opponent who'd beaten me once already.

The masked drow uncoiled her arms. She unsheathed her katana with her right hand and then raised her left hand toward me in a gesture that clearly said, Come at me, bro!

"Alright…" I raised my falchion forward. "Round two."

Chapter end