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They were unbelievably fast, and the sight of naked, decaying, and filthy bodies wearing only torn and ragged animal pelts almost made him puke.

“Berserkr!” warned Habrok as he unleashed a flurry of his arrows, getting one whose body continued tumbling after its head exploded.

Tyndur and Kobu strode forward to meet the revenants. The mage, for his part, couldn’t help but wonder how frayed, desiccated, and crumbling flesh and bones managed to stay together. Hal got five of the rushing warriors, then the leading berserkers were within reach of the two companions in front of Tyler.

Kobu abruptly vanished and reappeared above one, his kanabo already raised for the killing blow. As the exile struck, the metal skull cap was flattened, and the whole head was crushed into the undead’s torso. After the squashing blow, the exile vanished. Tyler saw him next beside another revenant, the spiked mass of metal already swinging sideways to bash the head. The force was so strong, it didn’t only crush the head, but also removed it from the still running body. The mercenary was like a murderous pixie, weaving his deadly vanishing act through the rampaging attackers.

Tyndur approached the fight in a different manner, preferring to slice off part of the skull, but after he had rendered the opponent relatively immobile by incredibly rapid slashes against the legs and arms. The mage observed that the einherjar never targeted the torso of his opponent, although with his flaming battleaxe, every victim of Tyndur’s onslaught was left in a pyre of flames. Somehow, the mage saw the einherjar’s movements had a certain grace, a flow, to them. The warrior definitely had his own style, though not as refined or elegant as that of the movements of Kobu or Astrid, it was effective nonetheless. Even the way he evaded the strikes of the berserkers was impressive, especially in the way the einherjar’s defensive movements were incorporated into his attacks.

In the unfolding battle before him, Tyler noticed that the Norse never blocked. He moved to one side as his opponent attacked with its weapon, and then rapidly struck in various combinations which left his opponent with a partially cut up or bashed skull, while also leaving the attacker on fire. Then the fight was over. It took just under a minute by the mage’s calculations. The barrage of arrows had also stopped too. X had put an end to that problem.

But Tyler noticed the main group was nearer, though he believed Hal’s change of targeting priorities after he was done with the berserkers had something to do with it. Kobu and Tyndur were again in their previous positions, and he could see the einherjar beaming beatifically.

He got his quota of fighting for the day, concluded Tyler. Then he noticed the flaming bodies Tyndur left behind had ignited the dry leaves and shrubs on the ground. A forest fire was already starting to his left.

Shit. We’re going to be burned to death, thought the mage as he frantically searched his memory on any applicable forest spell. He came up with nothing. Fuck this. I should have asked Eira for lessons.

“Tyndur! Habrok! Put the fire out! I’ll handle these insomniac bastards!”

“Insomniac, sire?” asked Habrok as he passed the mage on his way to the growing fire.

“They’re dead. They should be sleeping,” Tyler answered testily.

The mage looked at the enemy with Kobu taking up a protective stand at his side. They were barely fifty feet away, though steadily being whittled down by X and Hal.

Fifty to sixty, my foot! There’s probably 100 or more, including the archers, swore the mage. Then his eyes fell on the ring given by Sarva. Energy, huh? Let’s see if this one can play havoc with them.

He concentrated on the ring which became warm to the touch.

“You called, Master?” came a deep, bass voice.

“Yes. There’s a group of revenants in front of us. Go and play with them.”

“As you wish. The Lord Sarva might have failed to mention it, but I have sufficient power to exist on your plane only for around fifteen of your minutes. The energy I need to manifest and fight is enormous, and the ring’s capacity is limited, hence the restriction.”

“Fifteen minutes is enough. I’ll try to find a way to extend your time later. Go. Play.”

A huge, armored translucent bull with enormous horns abruptly appeared five feet away from the mage. It looked like any bull from Earth, except it stood ten feet at the shoulders and was clad in what looked to be armor plate. Even its head was covered with a faceplate. But Tyler could feel the disruptive aura around it. It was a very powerful ancient spell, that he could tell. It looked back at him, bowed, examined the incoming mass of undead for a few seconds, and then charged.

What followed was pure mayhem. The bull crashed into the shield wall, throwing undead left and right, and crushing whole bodies in its path. Then it proceeded to stamp revenants into the ground, mashing their bodies into gross unrecognizable lumps. Weapons passed harmlessly through its form. It worked insanely fast, and in a short while, the mass of undead was a revolting collection of long-dead flesh and bones, decorated here and there with broken weapons, armor, and shields.

Tyler himself was shocked at the spirit’s violent handiwork and the swiftness with which it was performed. His gaze went to his companions. Their reaction to what he saw was similar to his. Habrok’s jaw hung in amazement, Tyndur’s eyes bulged, and even the exile’s interest was clearly caught by the ferocity of the bull’s attack. The mage had to admit it was the craziest thing he had ever seen. It could be funny to some extent, especially when one recalled how the bull stomped on the fallen revenants like a jackhammer. Still, it was impressively fast and furious violence.

The spirit got rid of the few undead at the back of the formation and then inspected its handiwork. Satisfied, it went back to Tyler,

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