The text below is based on Guild Wars lore but is purely fan-fiction. Click here for Chapter 11.
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Chapter 12 – A Desperate Battle
Dark red blood splattered into Kanaxai’s face as he ripped his right axe free from the crest of a naga. The crazed serpent dropped its knife and pressed both his hands into the severely bleeding gash as hard as he could, trying to hold back the gush of blood that the fleshy, pulsating wreck that his heart once was thrusted at every beat.
When he realized it had no use, he locked his glassy gaze on his murderer, and Kanaxai could swear that it was gratitude that appeared on the dying muzzle. The naga agonizingly hissed a few more times as it died.
But Kanaxai was already on his way to the next target. All around him men and naga were locked in a deadly battle: dying screams, angry growling, furious battle cries and the sound of steel biting steel were mixed into a cacophony that spread throughout the shore and the surrounding hills.
The controlled serpents fought without discipline: they hacked, slashed, stabbed, bit and even spat just to disorient their foes. Kanaxai saw that two of his men already fell to their frenzied flurry and unpredictability: one was stabbed in the back of the skull and the other was missing his throat; both lay still in a growing pool of blood that the hot sand avidly soaked in.
A twisted blade swung towards Kanaxai’s head, its spiraling curves letting out a horrid whistle as they cut through the air. Kanaxai instinctively bent his head back and evaded with his torso: the gut-tearing sword missed only by a half of an inch, but the naga was carried forward by the momentum and with stretched arm he nearly toppled over. Kanaxai took his chance to land an opportunistic blow: with a lightning fast change of grip his left axe slashed upwards, and a moment later its blade cut off the naga’s sword-holding hand. The naga hissed in pain, grabbing the bloody, scaly stump at the end of his arm, but Kanaxai gave him no chance to recover from the shock and use his body as a weapon against him. His right axe chopped into the naga’s nape, severing the spine from the skull. The naga lifelessly fell forward with a buckled head.
He was finally in the clear now – even if just for a brief amount of time – and could look around to assess the battlefield: while he was fighting with his last opponent, another of his warriors was slain, and a couple others were wounded and bleeding from several cuts. Naga bodies littered the shore yet fresh reinforcements just kept coming from behind a hill, slithering down the slope with the single-minded purpose of butchering them.
Damnation! How many more brainwashed naga does this blasted Corruptor have? Kanaxai thought as he readied himself for the next two challengers. Charging forward, he glanced at one of his warriors, a smith in time of peace, whose double swords just cut off the head of his foe with a scissor-like strike. But he had to concentrate on his path as the two naga were also rushing towards him, wildly jigging their pointed sticks in the air. One of them threw the sharp rod at him, but he ducked and strafed to the left, evading the javelin and getting out of the other naga’s reach at the same time. Seven feet away from his assailants, Kanaxai lunged forward. The naga that still had his lance jabbed in the air but Kanaxai was quicker and cut off the tip with a swift chop, also wresting the lance from the naga’s hands. Still in midair, he slammed the left axe into the skull of the other, who died instantly, falling back with the axe still stuck deep in his head. Kanaxai had to let it go or otherwise he would’ve tripped over. The moment he touched down with only one axe in hand, he felt razor-sharp claws tearing into the flesh of his shoulders; the other naga pounced on him and pushed him to the ground.
The wounds on his shoulders seared as the blood flowed from them in long streaks, but now that he was lying in the sand the female naga released her grip with one hand and tried to push it into Kanaxai’s throat with the intent of ripping it out, strangling him to death, or both. Kanaxai was able to grab the scaly wrist just in time and held it back. The naga let go off the other shoulder and similarly tried to punch her foe in the neck, but was stopped again.
However, she had one more weapon she hadn’t used yet: she arched her long neck back to ram her fanged maw into the man’s face with full force. The female naga struck, but Kanaxai managed to cross the naga’s own arms with a sudden jerk and hold them between his face and the enclosing jaw. He glanced to the right where his axe lay in the sand just a foot from him, but if he had reached out for it, he could no longer keep the rabid serpent at bay. Though he had one more risky idea.
Gritting his teeth and trying to push the bloodthirsty head back, he kicked at the soft torso of the naga, only to enrage her even more. She wrapped her tail around Kanaxai’s legs and began squeezing them.
The pain and the pressure increased with each moment and he felt his strength slipping away, letting the snapping teeth get closer and closer. He knew that the moment one of his shins broke, he would fail and the naga would bite on his face. Kanaxai closed his eyes and accepted his fate.
Instead of feeling the bones in his legs shatter, he felt the pressure decreasing. At the same time, warm liquid the smell and taste of iron poured into his face. He blinked his eyes open and saw a steel-like tongue sticking out of the naga’s mouth. The “tongue