Nightfire Warriors (Remastered)

19.

"He's trying to escape!" a prisoner thunders. "He's doing it!" There's disbelief in his tone, so I don't think he's trying to rat me out. Unfortunately, he does.

Three reptilians slither toward me and don't intimidate me in the slightest. Adrenaline is pumping, and all I can think about is survival. I successfully obliterate the first reptilian but then slammed into the ground by a second and third. They growl and screech at me, and I'm screaming back! One of my punches knocks the golden fangs out of the lizard's head. I kick the other with my barefoot, but he clutches onto my ankle. I scream and blast him with incredible energy. After he explodes and dies, I pick myself up, back to my feet, and gaze at the last remaining reptilian with bright dislike. He pulls out a homemade knife-like weapon. I blast it out of his claws, and the shiv slides across the floor. In the same breath, my fingers flick again, and the reptilian explodes into pathetic ashes.

I shouldn't have done that. The weapons belt obliterates with him. Even if it's only a tiny amount of extra protection, the only weapon I can use now is the shiv the reptilian used before. I grasp it and make a run for it.

"Everybody, get back!" I cry. Shiv in mouth, I—with deep knowledge knowing this will haunt me later— consecutively destroy the cell doors, two at a time, as I sprint by them. I can't live with myself, leaving the hostages behind. I don't look back to see if the prisoners make it out okay. Some are celebrating, while a vast majority are ready to riot. Whatever they're planning to do, I don't have time for. I have my own life to worry about.

To the east of me, there's a torture chamber where I thankfully don't hear anything gruesome. There's storage near the south and a mausoleum to the west—no sight of stairs to the next floor or any sign of freedom. In the end, the prisoners help me escape. A handful of them burst through a hidden, locked door with their combined strength. Stairs spiral upward on the other side. We run up them together.

"This way!" someone, leading the pack, cries. It's an innovative idea to follow them. The fortress is enormous. I've never seen so many rooms and doors that lead to countless passageways and other corridors. Being a captive here has its advantages. They know the outlines of their prison.

A swarm of zusks and reptilians flood the dungeons. One prisoner dies right before my eyes when his head rips off by one of the spiders. Unstartled, I lunge forward, explode the zusk, and marvelously perform a combo attack with my shiv, slicing open a reptilian's neck nearby and letting his black blood soak me. Wine barrels are busting open from all the madness. It's slippery, and I lose my footing sometimes. More prisoners die around me, yet I'm still breathing—the only one killing enemies. But I don't kill them fast enough before they brutally massacre my allies.

In fact, I'm just about to kill the last one when a comical "ahem!" catches my ear. For a second, I think it's a prisoner, but then I recognize the boy—the one who threatened me in my cell downstairs—somersaults in midair. When it's too late to dodge, he nails a front handspring, just landing a foot in front of me, and soccer punches me in the face. Just when I blast him, he launches up in the air, backward and over the dead bodies, landing poised on the wine barrels. But thanks to my overshot blast, the barrel explodes, and he falls. He gives a sharp growl as his hands curl into fists and conjure fire! Like a firebender, he manipulates the bright yellow flames, changing their shape, letting them grow into a horrible wildfire.

My feet instantly slip on the wine. I land headfirst as the fire lingers me. The flames are hesitant and not ready to kill me yet. No doubt the younger boy is a better fighter than me, but his fighting style is entirely different than mine. How wily is he to have such incredible flexibility and have the capability to perform everything Nightfire is trying to teach me at such a young age? The idea frustrates me.