Nine of them remained.
Kyle's crimson eyes swept across the survivors, cataloging each one with cold efficiency. His split mind had already sorted them by type and threat level.
Four warriors from Cancer's tower. Their armor was cracked. Their shields were dented. Blood dripped from wounds that hadn't been there eight seconds ago. But their grips on their swords were still firm.
Two assassins from Sagittarius's tower. They had already melted into the mist, but Kyle could feel them circling. Waiting.
Two archers—both elves, he noticed now. Their hoods had fallen back during the chaos, revealing long blond hair and a beautiful face. Their quivers were nearly empty, but their hands were steady.
And the woman in white armor. She was on her feet again, sword in one hand, shield in the other. Her face was pale, and there was blood on her cheek, but her eyes burned with cold fury.
Nine against one.
Kyle smiled behind his darkness.
`Better odds than before.`
