Something bronze slowly trotted in from the edge of the cleared fog, tinted with lines of gold and slabs of red. First the goort’s armored face, and then the rider on its back.
A silent gong rang through the fight. The angels froze. The remnants didn’t, but the angels cut them down with less effort than a scythe to a wheat field. Everyone stared at the man on the armored goort as he came into view, and the angels lowered their wings. The clink of his armor hitting armor from the gentle trot of his horse was inaudible once the remnants began screaming again, but David swore he could hear it. Clink. Clink.
Remnants, trying to kill everyone. Angels, trying to kill David. The rider, trying to kill David. Would this ever end?
“The rider!” he yelled. He almost said something, like ‘run’ or ‘get away’. He clenched his teeth, and said nothing.
Moriah snapped her glare at him, pointed her sword at him, and unleashed a death scream. Whatever she wanted to say disappeared under a grunt as Laoko threw herself at the angel, and Moriah jumped back, blocking four swords with the shining metal of her shield. The battlefield erupted into the sounds of combat again.
“Stop the rider!” Moriah screamed, and back on the offensive, forced Laoko back. “He’s here to help the unmarked! Kill him!”
The four rapholem disengaged from nearby remnants, and dropped themselves directly in front of the rider, between him and the rest of the battle. They aimed their spears at him, and their shields glowed gold.
“Begone,” an angel said, and the four slammed the base of their giant shields against the stony ground in unison.
The rider paused, goort and his skull helmet pointed directly at David. He didn’t look left. He didn’t look right. He slowly unsheathed his axes, and the goort trotted forward without so much as a nudge from the man in armor.
All the rider had to do was say he was here to kill David. All he had to do was open his mouth, communicate, and David was absolutely fucked. But people in Hell didn’t like explaining themselves. The rider trotted forward, and to anyone watching, it looked like he was riding toward the four angels and their shields and spears, not toward David.
The angels slammed their shields down again, the giant slabs of metal pointed straight at the man on his goort, and a gold wall erupted in front of their spears, reaching far to the sides and high above, but see-through enough David could see past them to the rider. The rider was smaller than the angels, with armor just as bulky as the rapholem, armor that made the other two types of angels look like they wore silk. But the rider didn’t slow for a moment. He trotted forward up to the spears, stepped off his horse, and aimed an axe.
“Get out of my way,” he said. The dullness of his perfectly normal voice drowned the battle in sheer indifference. He didn’t care.
“I said begone, ancient creature. You are not–”
The rider brought his axes down on the gold wall, and it shattered. Again, the battlefield went silent, even the remnants going still as an enormous crack shot across the barrier. It exploded and unleashed a sound like a gunshot as gold shards flew in all directions. The four rapholem fell back, wings flapping and failing to keep their heavy bodies from colliding with the ground.
The rider walked forward.
The mikalim, save Moriah, abandoned their post around David and joined the rapholem. All seven were back on their feet in a moment, as if a single man hadn’t just trivialized their special powers. They dashed back and put distance between them and the rider, and David sucked in a breath. If the angels didn’t attack the rider, they might–
The four gabriem, flying above, unleashed their arrows upon the rider, and each struck home. Loud echoes of metal on metal preceded small explosions of gold, each strong enough to give the rider a moment’s pause. He didn’t fall over. He didn’t stop walking.
The rapholem again put themselves in the rider’s way, and stabbed at him, but the result was predictable. One spear collided with his arm and slid to the side. He knocked the three others aside with his axes. But over the four rapholem, the three mikalim dove, swords pointed forward.
Why were they so willing to fight the rider? They didn’t even consider that maybe he wasn’t here to help David.
The rider swung his axes out and knocked all three oncoming angels to the side. They blocked his axes at the last moment, only when they realized the rider wasn’t going to bother blocking their swords, and the three went down, rolling. Sparks exploded when enchanted metal hit holy metal, burying the area in tiny embers that faded on the ground.
If the rider wanted to add anything else to his original order, he didn’t. Silence was his answer, and he charged forward. Again he brought down his axes, but the rapholem had no gold barrier this time, and his fire crashed against the metal of their shields.
His axes cut through the metal. Not in one swing, but he brought the axes down in rapid succession, putting lumberjacks to shame with the onslaught, each collision sending more sparking flames out until the battlefield looked almost like fireworks.
“You will not stop us!” a rapholem said, got back up, and charged.
The rider sidestepped their spear as if he weighed nothing, and brought an axe down on the angel’s head. Seamless. Instant. The axe half crushed, half penetrated the angel’s helmet. The rapholem died without so much as a grunt.
The mikalim and rapholem collapsed on the rider, and their battle disappeared behind white wings. But David could hear the clang of metal on shields, and the scream of angels dying.
“Caera,” Jes whispered. “Go, while they’re busy.”
David shook his head. “Those four gabriem will shoot us if we try. And even if not, the rider will just find us later. Maybe we should help.”
“They think the rider’s here to help you, David. And I get the sense they want him dead for their own reasons. Either way, it’s a great opportunity to get the fuck out of here! We have to go!”
He grit it his teeth. She wasn’t wrong. He didn’t want to kill the angels, but they were trying to stop him, kill him, and kill the girls with him. Maybe it was better this way.
Acelina cut down a few remnants and gestured out toward the fog.