The swarm reached them like a tsunami.
The Nightmare Creatures poured over the broken stones, crawling through the breach, over the walls, across the ceiling, and down the stairs, their nail-like claws scraping against black stone as they rushed toward the two Sleepers.
'Is this some kind of zombie movie?!'
Eirwen could not help the grin widening across his face, blood trickling down his chin as his sharp fangs glistened in the light.
The wind howled behind them, dragging snow into the tower in thick bursts that made the air almost impossible to see through. Blood had already turned the stairs slick. Black blood, red blood, half-frozen slime that came from Gods knew where, shattered stone, and trampled organs covered the steps in a disgusting layer that made every movement dangerous.
One wrong or careless step, and a person would go flying. And at that moment, falling meant getting buried under a myriad of Nightmare Creatures.
Seraphiel moved first, but not with his Aspect.
The pale pressure around him had faded. Sweat ran down his forehead and along the sides of his pale face, soaking strands of white hair until they clung to his skin. His complexion had changed as well, a faint bluish shade spreading beneath the white of his skin and making him look even less human than usual. His breathing was still controlled, but each breath came deeper than before.
He was exhausted.
And yet still, he stepped back only half a pace and lifted the chained short sword.
The first Skreel that slipped past Eirwen lunged toward him with its mouth open, aiming for his throat. Seraphiel twisted his wrist and sent the short blade forward. The chain snapped taut, silver links flashing in the snow-filled light as the sword cut across the air and then the creature's snout.
Black blood sprayed over his sleeve, but the Skreel kept moving, claws reaching for his face. Seraphiel leaned aside just enough for its fingers to miss his eye, then pulled the chain back. The blade returned in a sharp arc and bit into the back of the Skreel's neck.
It did not cut deep enough to kill immediately, so Seraphiel stepped in, grabbed the hilt with both hands, and drove the sword down until the point punched through the creature's throat and into the stone beneath it.
Eirwen, meanwhile, lowered his body as the swarm came at him, his golden eyes wide and bright beneath the blood smeared across his face.
The irritation, the humiliation, the pain, the constant biting and tearing—all of it gathered inside him and sank deeper, where his Cores twisted around each other like two hungry beasts. The Sacred Core shone somewhere beneath it all, cold and distant, while the Cursed Core answered louder. Wrath moved through him, building pressure until his whole body seemed to vibrate with it.
With a thought, he activated Steel Shroud's Enchantment, and the sharp edges around his elbows and knees grew.
A faint scraping sound followed as iron-silver plates separated along the joints. Then the edges extended outward, growing longer and thinner. The ridges along his elbows stretched into curved blades sharp enough to split bone. The knee guards opened as well, each one forming a narrow blade that angled slightly outward.
The armour remained light against his body, but every major joint had become dangerous now.
Fists, claws, elbows, knees, teeth.
There was practically no part of him left that could not hurt something.
Eirwen jumped into the swarm closing in without waiting another second.
His foot slammed against the bloody stair, slipped for half a heartbeat, then caught on a crack in the stone. He used the failure instead of fighting it, letting his body drop lower before pushing forward on all fours like a rabid dog. The first creature tried to climb over him, but his right elbow came up and split its belly open from pelvis to chest.
Its insides spilled out over his shoulder in a hot, black mess. Another Skreel landed on his back, claws digging between the plates of the Steel Shroud as it tried to hook into his spine.
Eirwen threw himself sideways into the wall.
The impact smashed the creature between his body and the stone, but it did not die. Its teeth found the back of his neck and sank in deep, tearing skin open in ragged strips.
His face twisted from the pain before he dragged his left elbow backward.
The extended blade punched into the Skreel's abdomen and came out the other side with a wet sound. He ground it deeper, feeling the creature convulse against his back, then twisted his whole upper body. The blade ripped through the torso sideways, almost cutting the Skreel in half before it fell away from him, twitching and leaking organs across the steps.
[You have slain an Awakened Monster: Frostbitten Skreel.]
[You have consumed a Soul!]
[Devour the Flesh for more!]
Another came from below, leaping at his legs.
Eirwen jumped and brought his knee up.
The sharp edge on the Steel Shroud caught the creature under the chin and tore through its face. Its lower jaw stayed behind on the blade for a second before sliding off. The rest of the Nightmare Creature crashed into him anyway, limp but heavy enough to knock his balance loose.
His heel slipped in the blood covering the stair, and his body tilted forward. For one ugly second, the whole swarm seemed to open before him. Claws reached up, mouths opened, thin blue hands grabbed his legs and pulled.
He crashed down hard.
The moment his back hit the stairs, three Skreels descended on him without mercy.
One bit into his left thigh and shook its head like a starving dog, tearing flesh out in chunks. Another crawled over his chest and shoved its claws into the gap beneath his shoulder plate, ripping through muscle until his arm twitched from the damage. The third landed on his face. Its claws hooked into his cheeks, and its teeth snapped toward his right eye.
Eirwen caught its snout with his sharp teeth before it could bite down.
His own mouth filled with cold flesh and black blood. The creature shrieked directly into his face, loud enough for his ears to ring, but he bit harder.
Bone cracked between his teeth, and its snout collapsed. He spat the crushed mess aside, drove his claws through its throat, and kicked the Skreel on his thigh hard enough for the knee blade to tear through its neck.
[You have slain an Awakened Monster: Frostbitten Skreel.]
[You have consumed a Soul!]
[Devour the Flesh for more!]
The third Skreel still had its claws buried in his shoulder.
Eirwen grabbed it by the nape, yanked it forward, and rolled once with it. His shoulder screamed as the claws tore free, dragging long strips of red flesh with them as hot blood sprayed across the wall.
He slammed the Skreel against the edge of the stair, then drove his elbow blade through the back of its skull.
The creature spasmed once and went limp.
[You have slain an Awakened Monster: Frostbitten Skreel.]
[You have consumed a Soul!]
[Devour the Flesh for more!]
His wounds closed, but it still hurt like hell.
The hole in his shoulder tightened, flesh dragging itself together beneath the armour. His thigh regenerated around torn muscle, making his leg burn with a deep, crawling pain. His cheeks repaired under black blood, skin knitting where claws had carved them open.
Essence drained with every second. The few Nightmare Creatures he had devoured helped, but the swarm was not letting up, and the floor was only getting worse. The stairs had become a wet slope of blood, snow, and shredded meat.
There was no time for him to devour anything like he had before.
A Skreel tried to rush past him toward Seraphiel, but Eirwen caught it mid-leap.
His claws sank into its back, and the two of them hit the stairs together, sliding down several steps through the gore. The creature twisted under him, its claws finding his stomach. It tore across him from left to right, opening the flesh beneath the Steel Shroud. Hot blood spilled over the Skreel's hands.
Something inside Eirwen clenched horribly, and pain shot through his abdomen so sharply that his breath caught.
He grabbed the creature's head and slammed it down once. The stone cracked beneath it, but the Skreel kept thrashing. He slammed it down again, and one of its eyes burst. By the third time, its skull flattened enough for brain matter to leak between his fingers.
[You have slain an Awakened Monster: Frostbitten Skreel.]
[You have consumed a Soul!]
[Devour the Flesh for more!]
He dragged himself upright, one hand pressed briefly to his opened stomach while the wound closed beneath his palm.
More came.
Eirwen groaned and focused fully on the battle, not caring about the lack of Essence whatsoever.
He moved like a thing made of blades.
He used the wall to turn, the railing to stop himself from sliding, the corpses to kick off from, and the slick blood beneath his feet to slide into attacks. Every time his balance failed, he turned the fall into another strike. When his shoulder slipped against the wall, his elbow blade opened a Skreel's chest. When his knee hit the step, the expanded edge cut through a crawling creature's wrist. When one jumped high to avoid his claws, Seraphiel's chain flashed over Eirwen's shoulder and cut a limb off, dropping it straight into the path of his next kick.
While Eirwen moved faster and became a hurricane of steel, Seraphiel became even more passive.
His face had grown paler beneath the bluish tint, sweat dripping from his chin and vanishing into the collar of his white attire. He kept one hand close to the chain, controlling the short sword with small and efficient movements.
Anything that slipped past Eirwen met the blade.
Once, a Skreel landed beside him and managed to rake its claws across his arm, tearing open the white sleeve and drawing a bright line of red blood. Seraphiel's expression did not change at all as he stepped close, pushed the short sword under the creature's ribs, then twisted the blade until it stopped moving.
The Sleeper was fully relying on Eirwen and his swordsmanship instead of his abilities.
Unlike the blond boy, Seraphiel could not restore his Essence by eating something, and his Aspect drained a lot of it. Yes, his reserves were larger than most Sleepers, but that did not mean they were unlimited.
Two Nightmare Creatures tried to break around him at once, one crawling along the wall while the other rushed low beneath his knees.
Eirwen's eyes shifted to both.
'Shit, how did they slip past?!' he growled inwardly, trying to decide what to do next.
In less than a second, he chose the one above because it had a better angle on Seraphiel's neck. His claws punched into its arm and ripped it off the wall, but the low Skreel slipped beneath him and lunged toward the white-haired boy's legs.
Seraphiel moved his chained sword, but his timing was way off.
Eirwen cursed and threw himself after it. but his foot landed on a torn organ and slipped completely.
The world tilted, and for a breath, he found himself staring at the ceiling, his own feet suddenly visible in front of him as his body flew through the air.