Chapter Seven
Restrained Fury
"Elizabeth!? Get out of here! Run!" She looked away from Yura, and finally took stock of the area around her. Until then, when she walked into that corridor, she hadn't noticed anything amiss.
She was sent to town to bring Yura his coat before everything started, and arrived after the mass panic had ended and the commoners had taken hiding. About half way there, she saw smoke rising from the far end of town.
She thought that it was an odd time to have a bonfire, but the city did stuff like that on occasion. It looked like a big fire, and she thought the streets were empty because everyone was there. It never occurred to her that anything was wrong. All she had seen through the opening from alleyway was her Uncle Yura standing in the street.
But now, seeing the Yoma before her, and the city burning, her carefree manner was washed away by pure terror. She froze, her legs gave little more support than if they were rubber. She couldn't even run away.
The smallest of the Yoma, one of the ones standing behind Clare, caught sight of her. "What do we have here? An appetizer. The little ones are always so tasty." It licked its blood stained fangs with a long purple tongue, and in terror, Elizabeth's legs collapsed beneath her. She could do nothing more than cower in fear.
This got Yura angry. He took a hard step forward, and his eyes narrowed to icy blue slits. "Don't you dare touch her."
"And you would stop me? Foolish human." Clare almost smiled at the Yoma's comment. "Anyway, why bother until the witch is dead? She's the only threat here."
Clare took advantage of the Yoma's distraction to attack. She spun around and charged forward. In three steps she was there, and without the dense human presence restricting her, she was in a position of strength.
The Yoma saw her charge, and was prepared. It spread its claws wide, and sliced inwards. Ten razor claws aimed at Clare's head. Unfortunately for the Yoma, it was too slow. Clare dropped into a low crouch, and the claws sailed by inches above her head.
From ground level, the sword sliced up and right, bisecting the Yoma from hip to shoulder. It was dead before it hit the ground.
The ones that had posed as twins took action. The one-armed Yoma ran close to the ground, while its in-tact counterpart jumped high, reaching half the height of the nearby buildings. The people on the rooftop backed away with a frightened gasp, only now realizing that they weren't safe there.
They backed away. Most scurried back inside, favouring to hide in behind flimsy doors rather than stay in plain sight. A few men, brave and foolish alike, stayed to see the conclusion.
As the Yoma descended, Clare raised her sword high and slashed straight down at the one armed Yoma, but it twisted deftly, and all she did was reopen the wound on the severed arm.
The one armed Yoma ducked lower, and readied its claw for a brutal uppercut. At the same time, the Yoma in the air had its clawed hands ready to dig hard into Clare's back.
Because of how Clare senses Yoma through their Yoki, she knew exactly what was happening. Though far from the strongest of her people, her senses made her very capable against Yoma. Having the lowest ranking of Number Forty-Seven meant very little in the field.
She waited a fraction of a second, and pushed off to the left. She timed it perfectly. A moment sooner, and the Yoma would have been able to react effectively. Any later and she wouldn't have been able to get completely out of range in time.
Too late, the Yoma saw what had happened. They were already committed to their attack. It was too late to change their course. The grounded one's outstretched arm dug into the falling one's stomach, and the airborne one's extended claws raked the back.
Neither wound was lethal. The two were locked together for just a moment. Just long enough for Clare to turn, wind up her arm and swing straight across their abdomens.
Their eyes widened in horror as they comprehended their own fate. A fountain of violet blood heralded the end of the two Yoma.
Only three remained, the giant Yoma, and the two smaller ones that had hidden amongst the townsfolk. The larger Yoma glared ferociously at Clare. The smaller ones glanced at each other fearfully.
Yura, feeling that the Yoma were well enough beaten, relaxed. He had seen Elizabeth crawl backwards into the alley, and assumed she had run away, so he no longer needed to feel concerned about her for now.
"You don't have to die here." Yura mocked, crossing his arms and looking at them with a rather bemused expression. "You could always run away."
That was the breaking point for one of the smaller Yoma. It snarled at Clare and made a run for it, scrambling for the far alleyway, opposite from where Elizabeth still cowered. Before it had gone two steps, the larger Yoma seized it by the wrist.
"No running away. We fight until we die."
"I won't let the witch kill me here. Let me go!" The smaller Yoma clawed at the larger one's wrist, struggling in vain to escape its iron grip.
The larger Yoma glared at the cowardly runt. Its face was contorted with anger, but it seemed to Yura that it was also scared. "Better to die here than to run. He will not be as kind as her if I return a failure, after getting so close to His target. A sword makes what he will do look kind. Run and I'll kill you myself." The large Yoma gave the smaller one a moment to reconsider.
The little Yoma continued to struggle in the iron grip. The giant Yoma took its other claw, wrapped it around the smaller one's head, and squeezed. The head burst with a sickening crunch, and the body dropped to the ground. Pulverized brain matter splattered on the cobblestones, along with cracked pieces of the skull.
"Who is this 'he' you keep talking about?" The Yoma had peaked his interest.
"You will find out soon enough." The larger Yoma opened its closed fist and dropped the rest of the gelatinous grey matter, and glared ferociously at Yura. "It will be an interesting reunion."
With that, the Yoma turned its attention back to Clare. It howled terribly, with a voice that cracked the windows, and charged. It ran at Clare like a creature possessed. Its eyes were mad. It attacked with no regard for its own life.
The monster lashed out with its clawed fingers, each claw larger than one of Clare's fingers. She placed her sword in the path of the strike, catching it on the broad side. The impact sent her boots sliding back several feet, metal boots eliciting a shower of sparks from the stone.
The Yoma raised its arm high, striking downward. Clare again blocked the strike, and the force of this blow pushed her down on one knee. With the Yoma attacking so viciously, giving no thought to its next move, it was much harder for her to read its Yoki, and anticipate an attack.
The strikes rained down, each impact on her sword jarring her arm painfully, and punching her legs further into the shattering cobblestones. She finally found a moment to jump back, and get a little bit of space.
She was getting a feel for its movements, and learning to anticipate its attacks. Rather than blocking, she tried to dodge. She avoided one attack, and struck, barley managing to graze its shoulder with her thrust. This was going to take a while.
Yura watched the battle with a degree of concern. Clare was getting pushed back. He hoped he wouldn't have to intervene, but that was a possibility. At least the last little one hadn't joined in. It was just standing there.
The little Yoma wasn't sure what to do. It was torn between retreating, and risking the wrath of the big Yoma, as its brother had, but the silver-eyed witch had killed its other brother so easily. Did it even have a chance? A movement caught its eye.
A movement caught its eye. In the alleyway to the left, the largest of the horses that the false bandits rode in on had its reigns caught on a merchant's stand. Looking closer, he saw a small head poking out from the doorway. It looked closer still. The head was covered in sandy blonde hair, and the body attached to it clung onto a green coat for dear life.
A memory from the man it had last eaten rose to the surface of its mind. The man had thought it nothing more than a myth, meant to humanize the witches a bit. The Yoma thought about this for a moment, and a sly grin crossed its face.
It launched its arm like a striking snake, straight into the alleyway. The arm twisted at the last moment, into a small alcove. The limb retracted quickly, and when the hand came back into view, it had Elizabeth tightly in its grasp.
Yura gaped, stunned. He thought Elizabeth had left, gone home. He thought she was safe. All Yura could do was stop and stare.
The Yoma, young girl in hand, ran at Clare. Sensing the attack, she turned to cut it down before it could do any serious damage. Her blade stopped short. It stopped inches in front of Elizabeth's face, held in the Yoma's outstretched arm.
The Yoma grinned sadistically. "Ha. You can't kill humans, right?" It raised its claws for a deathblow. "I've got you now."
Just then, a feeling of overwhelming fury, carried on an intense Yoki, slammed the three combatants like a tidal wave. The Yoma reeled back, the smaller Yoma clutched Elizabeth to its body like a shield. Clare could hardly stand, her legs had turned to rubber. This Yoki held the promise of certain death.
But not for her. She felt only the fringes of the rage, and she couldn't imagine how intense it must really be to have Yoma cowering like children.
Raki didn't know what was going on. One minute, he thought Clare was going to die, and the next the Yoma were stepping away from her, looking as he had never seem a Yoma look, terrified.
He had also lost track of Yura.
A voice rose from behind him, deep and terrible. "I'm taking your sword." Raki turned as a weight lifted from his back, and saw the most terrifying sight of his life.
It had been a long time since Yura had truly gotten angry. Now, his blood boiled. In an instant, before he even knew what he was doing, Yura was behind Raki. He took the sword from Raki's back, shredding the cloth that disguised it, and pulling it from the sheath.
Yura saw Raki turn, and saw his eyes reflected in Raki's, burning with golden fire, face contorted into an expression of feral rage.
Yura exploded into action. Faster than the eye could track, Yura struck down with Raki's sword even as he charged towards the Yoma. Before the blow could land, he had covered the distance between himself and his target. The blade struck clean and hard. It sheared straight through the left arm, cutting the loose fibres of Elizabeth's dress, never touching her skin.
The child fell towards the ground, Yoma claw still gripped around her body. The fingers constricted as the hand lost life. Another swift stroke severed the fingers, a hair's breadth from Elizabeth's skin.
Yura leapt back, standing in front of the alley where Elizabeth had been hiding. From the moment Yura had stepped away from Raki, hardly a second had passed, hardly the time it would take a Yoma to blink.
The little Yoma stared at its severed stump of an arm. It didn't know what had happened. It looked at Clare, thinking she had done it, used her Yoki to stun it. It didn't even seen Yura standing there, holding the little girl under his arm, borrowed sword in his other hand as it dripped with Yoma blood.
And if the Yoma didn't see him move, Raki felt certain that the crowd on the roof had no idea what had just happened. This was affirmed by the confused whisperings, and congratulatory shouts from atop the roof, directed at Clare.
As quickly as it appeared, the raging Yoki subsided. Yura looked sternly at Elizabeth. "This time, go home." He tossed her into the alleyway, Yura's coat coming loose from her grip as he did so. Elizabeth landed firmly, but safely in the saddle of the draft horse that was snagged in the alley. Forgotten, the coat drifted into the smouldering fires.
Yura wasn't concerned. Having grown up on a horse ranch, Elizabeth had learned to ride a horse as soon as she could walk. Yura was confident that she would be alright.
Having gotten over the shock, Clare and the Yoma were ready to get back to killing each other. "That was a nice trick, witch, but it won't work again." As the little Yoma boasted, the larger one glared at Yura. It knew who had generated that terrible Yoki, but how it knew was very puzzling to Yura.
It focused that rage at Clare. With her still a bit distracted, it managed to bypass her guard, and score a grazing blow across her ribs. The large Yoma raised both fists over its head to crush Clare's skull. When she put her sword in the way, the shockwave shook the buildings.
The combatants were deadlocked. Clare released some of her Yoma power, making her eyes burn with a golden light, and she began pushing the large Yoma back. All but forgotten, the smaller Yoma extended the claws on its remaining hand, pulled its hand back to its ear and prepared to strike, and sever Clare's spine at the neck.
In control of himself this time, Yura ran in with the sword. He thrust the sword into the path of the Yoma's hand. When the Yoma hit the sword, the blade sliced deep into its palm.
"So you would die to save her? Humans are so stupid." It swept its arm, sending Yura tumbling. He placed a hand down on the cobblestones, turning the tumble into a summersault and landing squarely on his feet. The Yoma glanced down the alley, where Elizabeth was still struggling to free the trapped horse. "What about her? I could use a snack."
Yura raised the sword to point at the Yoma. "If you even think about touching her again, you will come to think of death by Clare's sword as a tender mercy."
"And you think you could stop me? Don't make me laugh. I've eaten children who looked stronger than you."
"You still don't understand? Let me open you eyes." Yura released a small amount of Yoki. Rather than blinding rage, this time the Yoki held only cold anger and fierce will.
"So you're one of them? I didn't know they made men into their warriors anymore." The Yoma grunted in disappointment as Elizabeth finally freed the draft horse, and began riding home.
Yura smiled cruelly at the Yoma. "Think what you want." Yura attacked, slowly. With little at stake now, all he had to do was distract the Yoma.
Clare was finally getting a handle on her opponent. Both had some more minor cuts on them than when he last checked. She would finish off her opponent soon, and then she could kill the little Yoma. He'd never have to reveal him true nature.
Yura moved fast, but still within the level conceivably achievable by a human. He stabbed deftly, but with little power. The Yoma dodged left, and lashed out with its fingers, extended into whips. Yura twirled like a dancer around the lethal claws.
Yura rolled low, rose to a knee and plunged his sword deep into the Yoma's thigh. The wound spurted violet blood as Yura pulled the sword free.
As Yura danced back, the Yoma lashed out again with the whip fingers. They wrapped deftly around the sword, trapping it. With the pressure from the fingers on the flat of the blade, Yura couldn't slice the fingers in his current state. There was nothing he could do from there without using at least some of his superhuman abilities.
The Yoma began retracting its fingers, slowly drawing Yura closer to the Yoma's gnashing teeth. It intended to bite his head off when he got closer. He could lose the sword, lose his secrecy, or lose his head.
Sword came loose as the Yoma took a rock to the head. It reeled its claws in, glaring at Raki. "Don't forget who You're really fighting." Yura ducked beneath the Yoma's arm while it looked towards Raki. Crouched low, Yura slashed upwards, leaving a line of purple blood on the Yoma's bicep. The return cut caught the Yoma under the armpit. Another chunk of broken cobblestone gave Yura the opening he needed to escape.
Yura ran back to stand in front of Raki. "That was a nice throw. Do you still have that knife you salvaged from the bandits?"
"Yeah." Raki reached behind him into his backpack, felt around for a second, and pulled the dagger out.
"How's your aim?"
"I don't know. I've never done knife throwing." Raki pulled the knife from its gem-encrusted sheath. The blade itself was long and finely crafted. The hilt was fairly uncomfortable, likely meant more for ceremony than actual use, but the hilt had a sharp point on the bottom, so even if that side hit, it would do some damage.
"Now's a good time to find out. I'll go in, and when you see an opening, throw. It'll be better than a rock, however it hits." Yura rushed the Yoma. It lashed out high, trying to take Yura's head off. He ducked low, but the Yoma was ready.
It tried to kick him with its razor-sharp toenails, long enough to reach a minor organ. From a crouch, Yura jumped over the foot and stabbed the Yoma in the ribs. Yura pulled the blade free, and dodged to the right. The Yoma turned to follow, and put itself directly in Raki's sights.
Gripping the dagger by the blade, Raki pulled his arm back and let the knife fly. It tumbled end over end towards the Yoma. Too late, it took its eyes off Yura, just in time to see the knife an inch from its face.
More by luck than skill, the knife sank right into the Yoma's eye. The long blade went deeper than the eye and pierced the brain. Nothing, not even a Yoma, can live if its brain gets shredded. The Yoma dropped, lifeless to the ground.
