[i]Just how many attackers are there?[/i]

Like Octopus Head had said, this was no ordinary collective of ruffians; this was an organized band with some sort of coordinated approach. These people had this type of experience behind their weapons, but then again, so did he. Not paying homage to the flames searing through the air from above and landing at another detachment of their attackers, his body was prepared for the first real rush of battle ever since the massacre happened. He could finally fight to the extreme and true extent of his resolve, no longer allowing himself to be dragged along.

Zaino's targets had not expected him to be quite the speed demon. He had already reached them in the moment they drew their weapons and tried to assemble in formation, and his own slaughtering had commenced. He stepped past an unsuspecting swordsman and hacked at the person's calves from behind, clipping their legs as he grabbed ahold of their clothing to keep them upright. He held the man up against his left shoulder like a shield, hearing a pained scream from a number of arrows striking his body as if it were a bullseye. He threw the man down headfirst, causing the arrows to jam even farther into his body, the tip of a particular one lodged through the man's skull. Before giving them even half a second to react, he turned to his right and slid the end of his blade across the throat of an axeman, bringing his right foot up to kick him into the second swordsman.

[b]"Hah!"[/b] Zaino scoffed arrogantly, appearing disappointed as he wheeled around to lock blades with the third swordsman. How easy it was to overpower the man, it seemed almost pitiful to him. [b]"I know kids who can do better than this!"[/b] he shouted, referring to the battle-charged citizens of Regna Ferox. He didn't need these people to get back home. He didn't need these people to survive. All he needed was a sharpened sword, the clothes on his back, and the boots around his feet. All these people did was slow him down.