Shattered Line

Chapter 23: The King's Sharp Claws

"Boss," Ham shouted. "What's the plan?"

Varnis grumbled and scratched his scar. "Use the trees for cover. Surround then launch our attacks," he barked.

Isla maneuvered behind a tree and scouted the King. The King's muscles fired and the limbs rippled with each step forward. The strut had grace combined with fluidic movements. No hesitation or clumsiness impeded the force. Pure power and strength inhabited this fur bundle.

She slowed her breathing, her adrenaline dosing her blood.

The King peered at their party, the fierce yellow brimming on arrogance. Yes, the pride this beast had dripped like honeydew. It saturated the air, dampening any resolve or hope.

The King reached Isla, sniffed and stared. Her gaze connected with her standing stiff. The seconds passed and the King circled back. For now, she had been spared. But who would this monster chase?

One pass towards Wolfe, the King stopped with a pause swelling the silence. Yet, the tension evaporated as the decision was made. The giant beast lunged at Wolfe's hideaway.

He dodged, jumping and sliding to another tree. The King clawed the tree, a chunk scooped out. The bark flew towards Isla and she guarded. With the midsection removed, the tree groaned and fell. Branches snapped and buckled, slowing the descent. Leaves fluttered down, separating from the lodged parent.

The King chased Wolfe from each tree. The earlier strut absent as the prey pranced around.

"Boys to action. Go for the legs," Varnis growled.

Isla assisted, rushing the King's hind legs. Her attack halted as the erratic tail swished near. She waited, her eyes watching the darting tail tips.

Slate aided her, deflecting the tail. Yet, his attempt to thwart the defenses backfired. The tail surged back, overpowering him and flinging him away. His feet skidded through the dirt, leaving two indentations.

Isla abandoned the idea. There was no way. She withdrew and observed the King hunting Wolfe.

Opposite them, Ham lunged and cleaved the thick hide. But his battle-ax bounced off. The contact vibrated his form and he stood dazed.

"Idiot, get back," Varnis growled before thrusting a front leg. The King veered back, standing on hind legs and parried the lance.

This was not working. The thick hide coating the King and foresight to defend with steel enhanced talons, introduced difficult variables to overcome. Add the thrashing tail protecting the weakened areas and defeating this beast rose another level.

She sifted through magic constructions. Earth would not break the King's defenses. What about trapping the beast? No, the King hounded Wolfe, he would be trapped. With the forest environment, wind and fire based spells proved dangerous. Forget anything water attributed, the magic was deficiency riddled, too much energy would be expended.

What did she have to work with? Her fingers curled around her weapon's hilt. Her gaze snapping to the illustrious metal.

"Draw it towards me," she yelled.

They reacted without question. She concentrated, ignoring the charging hunk of mass. One hand grasped her sword. The other swept down the sharp edge of the scratched blade.

Isla imbued the blade with aura. She imagined hundreds of blades and the thought formed. One blade proliferating into ten more, each splitting further in the air. They glowed translucent with a mysterious purple hue.

The King surged, the playful pouncing transforming to a furious charge. With a wave, she directed the blades. The gesture shifted and tilted them downwards. Her hand floated and she waited.