Walker groaned as he pressed a hand against his wound, blood seeping through his fingers. His mismatched armor was battered, his face twisted in pain, but he forced himself upright.
Hope gave him a quick glance, noting his unsteady stance.
"Walker, we have to support Kelvin—there's no time to wait."
Walker exhaled sharply, nodding.
"I know, I know," he muttered, wiping the sweat from his brow.
Then, despite his injuries, he grinned.
"Let's go kill that thing."
And with that, he strode forward, his cutlass memory hanging at his side, blood still dripping from his wound.
Hope clenched his daggers tighter, following behind.
Their fight wasn't over yet.
---
Kelvin dug his feet into the earth, his massive shield raised, absorbing yet another devastating strike from the Centaur's spear.
The force of the blow sent tremors through his body, his arms burning from the impact.
The Centaur wasn't just fast—
It was brutal.
Every movement was a calculated display of raw strength and precision, its four powerful legs giving it an unmatched level of mobility that put Kelvin at a severe disadvantage.
Each time he tried to step in for an attack, the Centaur simply sidestepped, its equine form granting it superior agility and reach.
And that spear—
It moved like a whip, carving deep trenches into the battlefield each time it missed its mark.
Kelvin gritted his teeth, his body already showing signs of wear and tear.
His armor—a Tier 2 Ascended Memory—had saved his life multiple times, absorbing otherwise fatal blows.
His Greatsword was of the same tier, a weapon that could cleave through most foes.
And yet—
Even with all his skill, he was struggling.
A Warrior Without Power
Kelvin had always been a fighter.
Since childhood, he had been exceptional in brawls, a master of head-on combat.
But unlike many in the Ashlands, he wasn't gifted with supernatural abilities.
He was an ordinary contestant.
And against this abomination, that meant he was at a severe disadvantage.
The only thing keeping him alive was his battle sense—the result of years of training and countless fights.
His armor, his instincts, his experience—
That was all he had.
But would it be enough?
The Centaur lowered its spear, the red glow in its helmeted eyes intensifying.
It charged, its massive frame a blur of motion—
Kelvin barely had time to react.
A Desperate Defense
Kelvin threw up his shield, planting his feet to absorb the impact.
The Centaur's spear clashed against the metal, sending a thunderous shockwave through the battlefield.
The sheer force of the strike sent Kelvin skidding backward, his boots tearing into the ground.
His shield—
The awakened memory he had received after slaying the corrupted fiend—
Cracked.
A thin fracture snaked across its surface, pulsating with dark energy.
Kelvin cursed under his breath.
The shield wouldn't hold much longer.
And the Centaur wasn't finished.
Using its four legs to its advantage, the abomination launched into a flurry of rapid strikes, its spear moving too fast for Kelvin to counter.
He dodged. Barely.
The spear scraped past his side, tearing through his armor, exposing the flesh underneath.
Another strike—
He raised his sword, parrying, but the force sent tremors through his arms.
A kick from the Centaur's powerful hind legs slammed into his shield—
Kelvin staggered, feeling his bones rattle from the impact.
He couldn't keep up.
He was too slow.
And the Centaur wasn't even using its full strength yet.
Hope and Walker Enter the Fight
Then—
A blur of motion from the side.
Hope.
The twin daggers in his hands glowed faintly as he dashed in from Kelvin's flank, his movements precise, measured.
He lunged—
Aiming for a gap in the Centaur's plated armor.
At the same time—
Walker struck from the opposite side, his cutlass memory flashing through the air.
The Centaur reacted instantly—
Its spear spun, knocking both Hope and Walker off course.
Hope twisted midair, landing in a crouch, his breath sharp.
Walker was sent stumbling back, but he caught himself, blood dripping from his reopened wound.
Kelvin took the opening—
He swung his Greatsword in a wide arc, aiming for the Centaur's exposed flank.
For the first time—
The Centaur was forced to move.
Its red eyes flashed, its body twisting unnaturally to avoid the strike.
But not completely.
The blade scraped across its side, carving a shallow gash into its armor.
A small wound.
But a wound nonetheless.
Hope's heart pounded.
They had a chance.
The three of them—
Could kill this thing.
But only if they worked together.
Hope tightened his grip on his daggers.
Walker wiped the blood from his lips, his expression hardening.
Kelvin adjusted his stance, his shield still cracked but standing.
The Centaur lowered its spear, the red glow in its eyes burning brighter.
Then—
It roared, the sound shaking the battlefield.
And the fight began.