Born Of Fire

Born Of Fire Chapter 63

Phoenix lit his body then, only allowing the flame to overtake half of his body, then called forth hard stone from the ground. The horses the men sat on broke, and reared into the air. It took a few moments for the men to reign in the beasts, and when they did the leader spoke again. “It seems you were telling the truth. But you must know we would kill you when you showed yourself to us, and you came alone?”

Phoenix laughed again, parting his flaming lips. “Who said I was alone?”

The officer glanced around pointedly, as if to make sure there were no soldiers hiding in the trees on the sides of the road, then raised an eyebrow at Phoenix. “I see or hear no one. The stories I hear that paint you a formidable warrior must be exaggerated.” He dismounted from his horse and drew his sword, walking toward Phoenix with a casual air. “I will cut you down right here, and Demetrius will reward me for it.”

Phoenix simply chuckled, then caused the flames around his body to grow, and the officers cheeks reddened at the heat, even with the distance between them. “I think it will take much more than you to cut me down.” Letting the flames retreat from his head, he glared at the officer before him. “Much, much, more.”

The officer was visibly shaken to Phoenix, but recovered quickly. Sheathing his sword, he turned back to the column of men at his back. “Archers! Make ready!” he called, and a collective sound went up, the sound of many arrows being drawn from quivers. Phoenix looked back down the column, and wondered how many archers had him in their sights, ready to impale him at a moment’s notice.

The officer spoke again, haughtiness dripping from his words. “Your blood does not deserve to stain my sword.” He took a few steps back to allow the archers room to fire without fear of hitting him. “Archers! Fire!”

The sound of arrows leaving bows rose up into the afternoon, and Phoenix heard the officer call once more. “Another volley!”

A second wave rose into the air, and many arrows fell toward Phoenix, their metal tips rushing to impale his flesh. He looked up, and waited, taking note of the officer’s sneer, and calmly raised a hand to the sky, in the direction of the deadly projectiles. A wave of flame burst from his hand, and he knew right away it would not be enough. Bringing his other hand around, the wave doubled in size, rushing to meet the arrows in the air. He could see the officer below the wave, his mouth wide open at his display of power. Arrows began to impact the earth on either side of him, and he let the wave burn itself out, bringing his arms back to his sides.

The officer sent another up another cry, this time for soldiers to fight the man blocking their way. Twenty obliged him, and filed past the officer, swords, pikes, spears, and axes at the ready. “Attack!” screamed the officer, and Phoenix let two fire whips fall from his hands. The men edged forward, none wanting to be the first to attack. Phoenix took the initiative, and sent a single fire whip through the closest soldier’s chest, and he fell, a blackened hole in his armor. With the fall of their comrade, the other soldiers rushed forward, eager to avenge him. A man with a pike was first to reach him, thrusting the pike forward in an attempt to impale Phoenix. He simply spun out of the way, sending his whip circling around his body to the man’s stomach, eviscerating him. With a choked cry of pain, he fell to the ground, his pike falling from his hand.

The second man attacked, this one with a sword. Two swipes at Phoenix’s throat were all he was able to muster before Phoenix placed a finger on his blade during a dodge, heating it so the man yelped in surprise and dropped it. By then the other soldiers were grouped around him, and he was forced to fight them all at once, twisting this way and that, lashing out with his whips with abandon. The last two stood side by side out of his whips reach, unwilling to attack, but unwilling to retreat without a command from the officer, and Phoenix knew the command would never come. With no more than a single swipe of his hand, he called a stone from the side of the road to rise from the ground and bore through the first man’s temple, splattering blood on the second man’s helmet before boring through his head as well. Twenty men lay dead at his feet, and Phoenix was not even breathing heavily.