Five hunters moved in perfect sync, like extensions of a single mind, surrounding Alex in an instant. Their movements were mechanical but swift. All of them drew their weapons—three unsheathing swords, and two nocking arrows to their bows.
The archers stayed at the rear while one of the swordsmen advanced on Alex.
Alex spun his spear.
Cling!
He levelled it forward, eyes narrowing.
Can I face this many? I've never fought this many at onc—
SLASH!
A flash of steel silenced his thoughts.
Alex ducked low, narrowly dodging the lightning-fast strike. Another thrust came, this time aiming straight for his face. He jerked his head back, the blade missing him by a breath, grazing his skin.
He leapt backward.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
Two arrows embedded in the stone where he'd just been standing.
He wiped his brow, steadied his breathing, and straightened his spear.
I'm outnumbered—and they're fighting in perfect coordination.
