'BOOM'
The beast dropped from the rooftop, but instead of landing on them, it slammed into the house behind their backs.
Ragnar's feet remained buried in the snow beneath him.
What was that? I couldn't even see it move… but how did it miss?
"Look out!"
Egil rushed to cover Ragnar's back in the same moment the six-eyed fox burst out of the rubble.
[Swell'd of swords the sound; Midgard's protection]
His shield thickened in an instant as stones layered over it, forming a crude second plate over it.
The beast did not care in the slightest and slammed right into it; the rocks scattered all around; however, Egil's instincts were on point; he shifted his stance and weight slightly to parry the attack instead of blocking it directly.
Because of that, the creature's line of movement was interrupted ever so slightly, and Egil used the moment to attack. His sword flashed.
The white fox sprang back, quick as lightning—but not quick enough to completely avoid Egil's blade. The attack left a slight cut, and its fur slowly started gaining red colour in that place.
[Archers' strings loud sang]
Egil flicked a handful of newly-formed stones toward its face. The beast swatted them aside with ease, but that distraction was enough for Egil to press forward.
As the two battled, Ragnar stayed back, observing them.
How did it miss? It makes no sense at all.
The beast turned sharply, and for a moment its stance faltered. Ragnar darted in, kicking it in the head; the creature skidded back a few steps.
The white creature growled and crouched to leap.
"Don't move," Ragnar told Egil.
"What—"
The fox lunged, trying to maul them, but once again it missed, and when landing, its right paw buckled slightly.
Egil attacked again, not waiting for Ragnar to join in, but the beast leaned away, and his blade came up short. The white fox buried its skull into him, sending him flying all the way to where Ragnar stood.
'Cough—cough!' Egil held a hand against his stomach. "Ouch, that hurt. Hahaha" He gripped his hand a few times and patted the ground. "Seems my sword went flying, ey?" He looked at Ragnar with shining eyes.
Ragnar, however, didn't spare him a glance. "Its right foreleg is injured."
"That's not cool. Why would you tell me something like that? You bastard!" Egild threw his hands into the air.
Ragnar glanced at him without intrigue. "You seemed to be having a pretty hard time," he said.
"Damn it. You really like sucking the poetry out of everything." Egil threw himself into the snow.
Ragnar shrugged his shoulders. "I'm just saying, you weren't doing too well."
"Well, if you think you can do better, be my guest. Oh, great sir, chosen-by-two-magic-types."
Ragnar shot him a glare, his face now even redder than the cold had made it at first. "Oh, you wanna see me kill it? Fine! Feel free to watch, and do not dare step in."
The beast rushed them again. Ragnar rolled to the side of its injured leg and thrust his spear. The stab was shallow; the creature barely felt it, but because of that it only kept charging, causing the spear to drag a long, bloody line across its ribs.
Ragnar's face lit up— then he screamed as the six-eyed fox suddenly twisted and bit into him. He endured the pain and drove the spear deep into its flank. Blood poured out. The creature released him and staggered back.
It growled, now furious. Ragnar was preparing for another attack.
For a moment, everything seemed to slow, as if time had nearly stopped.
Then suddenly, his vision blurred, his body started shaking uncontrollably, his breathing thinned to nothing.
He collapsed to the ground and dropped his spear, struggling to get the air into his lungs.
Beast did not wait for him to recover; it lunged—jaw open—
—but just before it was about to bite Ragnar's head off, a stone fist hit it in the face and sent it flying into the house next to them.
"Heh, didn't turn out so well," Egil scoffed, but then took a better look at Ragnar. "What? Mana shortage?! How?! Already?!"
The beast roared and shook the rubble off.
"Hey, get up! Get up, now!"
"Just—'cough'—hit it a few times, it should—'cough'—bleed out soon…"
"What, you bastard, you can't just—FUCK!"
He quickly put his shield up, and the fox hit it like a battle ram.
Instead of pursuing Egil, the fox darted again toward Ragnar. However, Egil was quick to react, throwing his shield to knock its path aside.
Then he stone-coated his arms, forming heavy gloves, and dashed for it.
He threw a right hook, and followed with an uppercut, tried to connect with an overhand, but the six-eyed creature did not want to cooperate; it instead stepped back.
But it stepped straight into Ragnar's raised spear. He struggled to keep it up, thrusting upward anyway, stabbing it once again.
Egil did not miss a beat. He thickened the stone on his right hand, leapt, and smashed it down on the beast's skull. The ground cracked beneath the impact as he slammed it down.
'Huff… huff….'
Ragnar pushed himself upright using Halfdan's spear as support. Egil limped over.
"Well… that was far harder than it should've been," Egil said.
"Yes, what in Odin's name was a thing like that doing here? You'd think guys at the gates would take care of that."
Ragnar looked out. Others were fighting further down the street. The destruction was scattered—not deliberate. Different beasts kept to different pockets. Men he passed every day were dying with war cries on their lips and gigantic smiles plastered on their faces. On the other side of the battle, blood and fur filled the road.
And in all that, out of nowhere, silence, mist. He saw something. In all the corpses, there were some strong, cheerful whoops.
The mist became stronger, bigger; the snow rose, and he could swear he heard music in the distance.
Then, a grey boar appeared in the masses. It looked old, tired, and wounded, yet somehow still hungry for whatever it wanted to achieve.
Gone.
Just like that.
Ragnar leaned forward. He started to walk toward the battle as the mist slowly dispersed.
"Hey! Hey, you hear that?" Egil asked.
"Ha, what? Hear what, wha—"
A massive skoll-wolf, dwarfing the boys, burst through a house, obliterating it. Its head must've been at least ten meters above the ground.
The two jumped back instantly, readying to fight again. Until they saw the massive man hanging from its snout.
Halfdan.
The giant wolf barreled forward, ignoring anyone and anything in the way, as if it wasn't able to shake the weight off its nose.
Two boys looked at the newly created path through the destroyed buildings, wondering whether they should run after them or not.
"Maybe you were right."
…
"Maybe I should return it."
…
"Arggh, no, no, I refuse to do it."
…
"He faced worse anyway."
…
"I know what you are going to say, but—"
Suddenly, pain shot through Ragnar's chest.
He looked down.
A blade protruded from him.
He turned his head.
"Oh, would you shut up already, please!"
Egil's face twisted with annoyance as he pushed the blade deeper.
"Egil? What…" Ragnar collapsed while the words still lingered in the air.