Hardened blade met twisted flesh in a spray of blood.
Artorias took an urgent step back, avoiding a desperate lunge from an abomination aiming to devour his legs. His grip on the pommel of the blade changed and before the spawn could react, his longsword flashed, bisecting its body in two.
Keeping his body moving, he felt as if he was in a dance. Every step was measured, every individual spawn was accounted for, his thoughts were focused on nothing but the brutal act of murder.
Sometimes it really did feel like the Dievas were laughing at him.
Truly, what were the chances of them running into a literal pack of Brute abominations just minutes after he mentioned the impossibility of it?
The chances were low, of course they were, but they still existed and Artorias, like a true fool, had all but manifested them into reality by speaking so freely.
'Damn you Murphy and damn your stupid law,'
Pushing himself forward with a grunt of barely concealed anger, he didn't let it consume him as he cut through another abomination and avoided the lunge of two others.
Instead, he let the emotion fuel his already tiring body, giving it something other than his own limited energy to burn on.
The knife hidden in his sleeve flashed, falling into his waiting hand before piercing the air and breaking through the hide of another spawn.
His eyes fell onto its tiny shadow and before it could react, he was standing above it, his hand on the knife and gutting its body.
It died before the pain of the first wound could even be felt.
In any other situation he would have simply teleported away and hidden himself, allowing the pack of brutes to pass him by with none the wiser. But with Seirios with him and Artorias' inability to teleport through the shadows with another living person, the only option left was to fight.
Luckily for them, this pack of abominations relied more on their numbers than any individual strength.
Standing on four stubby limbs with three dull claws on each foot, they reached up to his knees in height and were covered in an almost transparent skin, showing the constantly moving and twitching muscles hidden beneath.
But it was their face, or lack of one, that truly made him feel queasy. Where eyes, a nose, and a mouth should have been, there only existed a gaping hole filled with rows of razor-sharp teeth that could somehow rotate and spin.
'Honestly we're doing the world a favor by killing them now,' he thought, feeling nauseous. 'They've probably survived so long because of their looks, anything looking at them would rather die than even consider consuming them.'
It very likely wasn't the case for their miraculous survival in the ruins, but he found that he didn't truly care. It was an explanation, and in his mind, it made enough sense that it would soothe his curiosity.
Stepping through the shadows once more, his blade fell a second later, piercing the thin layer of skin and piercing through the muscles beneath. Using some of his enhanced strength, he tilted the blade in his hands and swung.
Corrupted blood, the same color as the dark sky above him, painted the streets. But it was the body of the limp abomination he had just killed which took most of his attention.
Where it had once been at his feet, now it punctured the air like a cannonball, turning into a blur of pink and plowing into three other approaching abominations, pushing them to the ground and trapping them beneath their packmates body.
Sudden laughter caught his attention, killing another lunging spawn and turning his body to get a glance, he couldn't help but raise a brow.
Surrounded by piles of pink bodies, Seirios was like a storm of speed and steel, moving before anything around him could even react. He slashed through one spawn, only to turn and punch the body of another trying to sneak up behind him, before spinning again to fight another.
'Right, no blind spots…'
Artorias only shook his head, focusing on his own fight.
If he was in the same shape as Seirios physically, then he could have easily kept up and even surpassed his younger cousin's speed. But with how his body was already tiring from the lack of any muscles and energy to use, he had to be careful, methodical and surgical in his approach.
It made him feel a little envious, having to fight in such a limited way, whilst his cousin could be as ferocious as he wished, but he didn't let it linger.
By the end of this Seirios would undoubtedly have the higher kill count, and whilst he knew that such a thing didn't matter, with how Seirios had shown himself to be so far, it would be highly likely that he would not waste the chance to brag about it.
Mentally preparing himself for that inevitable conclusion, he allowed his mind and body to once again focus.
There would be no point in making any preparations if he was dead, after all.
Stepping into a deliberate pincer attack the abominations had prepared for him, he allowed them to circle him, lunging at him from four different sides of his body.
Knowing that any hesitation would only lead to his death here, he pulled on Solthia's final gift and felt the world around him slow to a crawl.
The abominations, which were only a moment before only visible as pink blurs of corruption and aggression stilled. Seirios, who he could see from the corner of his eye froze, it felt like the entire world was holding his breath.
Feeling his entire body burn, he knew the proverbial clock hanging over his head was quickly ticking down. He didn't have nearly as much time as he would have liked.
But it would be enough.
His breath came out charged, his minuscule muscles tensed, his eyes focused, the roar of thunder invaded his ears.
An invisible thread manifested itself as he visualized his next step.
Faster than the eye could blink, a flash of black and gold invaded the world, bringing with it only lightning and finality.