The Children of Eris
Despite being caught off guard by the mercenaries, it only took the generals half a second to process what had happened and figure out how many attackers there were.
There were forty in total, both inside and out of the Hierophant, and Mimir assumed that they had to be quite skilled. After all, they’d managed to get the drop on the Demon Emperor’s chosen generals and acted in perfect coordination with one another.
Each attacker was wearing sturdy leather armour and they all had silver weapons.
From Mimir’s investigations, he knew that silver weapons were more effective against monsters and other supernatural beings which meant they posed a potential threat to the generals.
“Fenrir, Mania! Deal with the ones outside!” Mímir ordered, throwing half a dozen knives at the closest thug. The thug cut all but one of the knives out of the air; the sixth pierced his shoulder. “We’ll handle this!”
The twelve Machai in the storeroom and basement emerged, catching the thugs by surprise, killing three of them in a single strike. The six Ravens descended from the rafters and plunged their daggers into several unsuspecting mercenaries.
Mimir drew his blade and parried two of the thugs’ attacks before throwing knives at them. The men dodged the knives and charged him again. When one attacked Mimir from his left, the other would strike from his right; it was an attack pattern that would have kept most opponents off balance and at a huge disadvantage.
Mimir, however, was no ordinary opponent.
He was much faster than them and he easily handled their attacks.
With his palm, Mimir pushed the attacker on his left away, then kicked the man hard in the chest, breaking his ribs. Mímir then turned his attention to the thug on his right, slicing his sword at the thug’s shoulder. The thug blocked the attack, but Mimir threw a knife into the thug’s stomach.
The man fell onto his knees and, with a lightning-fast slash, Mimir cut the man’s head off.
Mimir turned his attention back to the battle and saw that seven of the Machai and two of his Ravens were dead.
There were still ten of Herakles’s men left standing.
To think they’d be able to kill so many when the guards at Castle Kelsey couldn’t even kill one, Mimir thought as he leapt across the tables towards the remaining attackers, throwing knives as he went. Either these men are far stronger than the regular humans of this world or the guards at the Kelsey’s were far weaker than the regular humans.
Mímir kicked off the last table and smashed his foot into one of the thug’s faces, breaking the man’s nose. Mímir landed firmly before him, spun a kick into the man’s temple and the thug flew across the room and out of a broken window.
Sylvan did say Herakles was sending his best men, but was that the truth? If it’s not. Mimir cut down another thug. Then this is most concerning.
Outside, Mania and Fenrir had already taken down half of the attackers with ease.
Fenrir’s speed and strength was so much greater than theirs that, by the time one of their corpses hit the ground, she was already fighting the next man.
Mania’s whip danced towards the crowd of attackers and most of them were able to dodge her strikes. Those who were unfortunate enough to be hit by her whip were cut down ruthlessly.
“Honestly, I’m a little disappointed,” Fenrir growled, shaking some of the blood off her hand. “I thought for sure that if you’d managed to land a legit surprise attack on us, you’d be fairly strong.” By her feet, a half-dead thug tried to crawl away. Fenrir pressed her foot against the back of his skull and shattered it. “Try to imagine my disappointment when I realised how weak you were.”
If Fenrir’s words had upset or angered the thugs, they didn’t let it show on their faces.
They brandished their weapons once more and prepared to attack.
“Mania, do we need any of them alive?”
“Try to keep one or two alive, if you can, that is,” Mania giggled with a loud crack of her whip. “If they know where our base is, it’s only fair that we learn where theirs is.”
Seven of the eight thugs charged at the two again and the generals eagerly received them in battle, but the eighth man was scared.
He’d fought and killed both people and monsters that were far stronger than him before, but all that experience told him that he couldn’t possibly win in a fight against the two women.
They didn’t stand a chance, not without Herakles.
I gotta warn the boss!
And so, as his comrades fought their hardest and died, the eighth man ran.