Human bodies are a little inconvenient. While they are a powerful driving force, they are rather fragile, easily injured by a blade. Which was made painfully obvious by Piercing Gale’s barehanded charge of the demon possessed young man.

Piercing Gale tackled him to the ground, then immediately cried out in pain as the knife was plunged into his back. The demon pulled the knife out and stabbed again as Piercing Gale scrambled to try and pin his arms to the ground. This was not a fight Piercing Gale could win on his own.

Up on my rooftop, I looked over to Death-Bringer and saw her running for the stage. The villagers around her looked lost and unsure, many seeming half-prepared to flee, a few looking like they wanted to try and stop her. But only one person actually stepped in her way; the young woman from the bathhouse, Raan. “I won’t let you interfere,” she shouted.

Death-Bringer paid her no mind and just barreled on ahead, knocking the waifish girl aside. Unfortunately the small cry the girl let out as she fell into the crowd spurred many of them to spring to action against Death-Bringer.

“Fuck, shit.” I couldn’t sit still any longer. I pulled myself across the roof tiles, wincing at the drag of my wounded leg behind me but pushed through. I dropped from the roof, tucking and rolling, and biting my bottom lip so as not to cry out and call attention to myself.

I landed, crouched behind the crowds. My line of sight to Piercing Gale and the demon was blocked by the crowds at that angle; all I could see was the bloody knife being raised again.

Ves’hil’n only needed to be stabbed in the back once to die. I couldn’t help the cold feeling taking root in my soul that Piercing Gale would die if that knife stabbed him again.

I stood and rushed into the crowd. With each step forward the pain in my leg faded further and further back in my mind.

I tried to push my way through the wall of bodies, my eyes trained on the crimson blood dripping off the tip of the knife. But I couldn’t move fast enough and the blade was thrust downwards.

“STOP!” Without thinking I screamed.

I doubled down on my efforts to get through the crowd. When two men turned to me to purposefully block my way, I shouted, “move,” instinctually. And, seemingly by instinct, the two men stepped aside.

I made it to the stage faster than expected, running into it full force and knocking the wind out of me. I dragged myself up onto the stage and looked over at the two on the ground and saw...

Piercing Gale still on top of the demon and breathing, now pinning his arm, the knife scattered just out of reach.

I got unsteadily to my feet, the adrenaline draining away. With the pain filtering back in, I limped towards them and the knife.

As I got closer I could see Piercing Gale’s arms shaking as he pinned the demon, blood poured from his wounds, seeping into the wood of the stage. I grabbed the knife and dropped to my knees by the demon's head, raising the knife to stab him through the throat.

“Wait!” Night Lover shouted, but it was too late to stop my swing. I plunged the knife deep into the demon’s throat. His eyes went wide, then the light in them dimmed...

And then something other than blood began to pour from the death wound.