The battle started, quickly, and was over in a matter of minutes. Dante had never seen such a one-sided slaughter in his life. It was horrifying. The Order weren't knights at all--they were monsters. Each and every one of them, bloodthirsty devilish creatures. The knights from Jonden charged valiantly, knowing that their numbers were with them. But luck certainly wasn't. Dante was thrown off of his horse early, and was forced to fight on foot. He was much more skilled than the other knights, and he was able to keep his ground well. He spared a glance to see what was happening elsewhere, his breath stopping short in his lungs. He noticed that the enemies around him had stopped as well. They were all looking at Jareth and Zephiel, standing back-to-back with the same malicious grin, that one that would never stop amazing Dante with fear. The two brothers were fighting with such strength and speed that they were ripping enemies straight in two, even three pieces. After they were done with an enemy, there was nothing that could resemble human left. Even as the blood stained their faces and hands--for they did not use their blades to kill--they continued smiling. Soon the army was fleeing, and Dante finally saw the rest of the Order of the Burning Blade more clearly. They all weren't using magic, they were slaughtering their foes with their bare hands. And they gave chase to the frightened army. The Order slaughtered them to the last man this way, and that last man was someone that Dante instantly recognized, even through the blood of the continent's mightiest army on his brother's twisted face.
Jareth Black · Mon Jul 04, 2005 @ 04:04am · 1 Comments |