The large sword aimed for Lily stopped cold as it met the chains wrapped around Fenn’s arm. The large angel regarded the sudden intrusion, or so it seemed to the hound as the Ardor’s armored face angled upwards to face him. With a violent motion, the sword was pushed aside and a massive fist slammed against a hastily raised shield, sending the angel sliding back several feet.
Flashes of red and gold announced the arrival of two more, and Fenn was forced to take a step back as a golden blade flashed towards his face. The second angel moved to flank him, but a flash of steel struck its side, sending armor plating flying and the angel tottering.
Lily stepped in beside Fenn after having sent the angel flying, a spear-like weapon with a large, curved blade, instead of a shorter tip meant for stabbing, held in one hand. Her stance was an unprofessional one, seemingly full of holes in her defense, but Fenn had been on the receiving end of her Guan Dao, and knew full well that she was a terrifying force to behold when using that weapon especially.
She sprang forward, engaging the one she had wounded before. She blocked its initial sword strike, batting it aside with the handle of her weapon, before cutting downward across its faceplate. The armour protected it, but it was sent reeling. It charged again, attempting to stab her, but once more she batted its weapon aside, sending the angel flying back with a powerful blow to its gut. Again and again it attacked, slashing, hacking, and stabbing, and each time Lily ducked, dodged, parried, or simply swept its offense aside and retaliated.
Of course, for all of this display, it still left Fenn with the remaining assailant. Fenn backed away another step as the golden blade flew across his vision, almost nicking his snout. The Ardor took another step, drawing its weapon back as it readied for a lunge. Fenn took the opportunity. He drew to the side as the weapon darted forward, and instead of plunging into his chest, the blade struck against his side at an odd angle, eliciting a pained grunt but otherwise skittering harmlessly off the hardened scales. The claws of his left arm wrapped around the angel’s armored wrist, pulling him off-balance, while his other paw clasped the back of the Ardor’s neck. Drawing forward, Fenn lifted the armored figure before slamming it down face first on the concrete with his full weight. The large, golden blade fell out of its hand.
He raised an arm to deliver the finishing blow, only for a flash of red at the corner of his eye to catch his attention. He drew his arm back, blocking the first Ardor’s blade just as he had done when it had been targeting Lily. This time, however, red filled his vision as the Ardor twisted and brought his shield forward against the Hellhound’s head.
The blow staggered him, and Fenn stumbled back just in time to escape the sweeping slash aimed for his throat. The angel stepped forward, raising its arm for another strike. Below him, something heavy clattered against his claws. Fenn grasped it on instinct, and with a furious bellow swung the object against the Ardor. The golden sword the first Ardor had dropped batted its cousin aside with tempestuous force, crashing against the angel’s armor and sending it careening away from him, an ugly gash marring the upper part of its chest.
Beside him, Lily continued playing with the lone Ardor. She met its charge, hitting its weapon hard with her own. She jumped back, leaving herself open. It sprang forward, intent on taking advantage of her moment of weakness. She grinned and sidestepped, swinging her guan dao at it even as it transformed into a warhammer.
“Too slow!” she cried, the hammer impacting on its helmet, shattering it and sending the angel crashing to the ground several metres away.
Fenn bared his fangs as he watched the three battered angels. The one Lily had hammered away rested splayed on the ground, still reeling from the impact. The other two, one only armed with an unsteadily held shield and bent armor, the other nursing the wound in its upper torso, drew back slowly towards their companion, shields facing the two demons.
The Hellhound snarled, taking a step forward, before several pillars of light descended from above between the two groups.
Fenn forced his anger to cool as reinforcements took shape before them. Anger and excitement. He had begun to worry that they had already taken the measure of the angels stationed in this city, but the forces arrayed before them seemed fit to sate him. Of the two angels that alighted before the mob, the larger of the two drew Fenn’s eye.
They had found their target, he understood, and suddenly the entourage made sense. A valued commander was bound to have bodyguards. Fenn set his left arm on the ground, holding the arm bearing the angelic blade out to the side, as though ready to charge. The ends of his fur simmered with small flames.
“It seems they welcome us personally, Imp,” he grunted under the small one’s speech.
She smirked, leaning her hammer against her shoulder in a relaxed position. “And with as much drama as one would expect of a school play.” She cocked an eyebrow at Fenn’s look. “What?”
Fenn grunted. “A failing. Drama never killed the enemy.”
And only one needed to be killed this time, even if they were faced with a small army, Fenn reflected. He had not forgotten about their shadow, either. It had not bothered to hide from them, but neither had it seen it fit to intercede so far. If their intentions had been harmful to them, he felt they would have taken steps to conceal themselves. This, in turn, made him wonder if they had not been waiting for this very confrontation. If they had, Fenn and Lily may have created an opportunity. For what, he was not completely sure of, but he had his suspicions. Some of which could greatly simplify or complicate their mission.
Whatever the case, the die was cast. The soldiers behind the general cheered at the conclusion of their leader’s posturing. He had never understood why some being’s tongues ran loose at the moment of killing their foes. Barks and snarls were warnings. Murder needed no words, and to think otherwise was to allow the chaos to unfold on another’s whim. Fenn himself had never been one to squander such opportunities, and as such he had began to ready himself from the moment they spotted their target. An orange glow had appeared on the pavement under the general’s feet as the Archangel’s declaration neared its conclusion.
As the first ‘Hurrah!’ died down, a torrent of fire blossomed from below the Champion. A series of javelins followed as Lily’s weapon changed shape, already held over her shoulder. The projectiles were aimed slightly to the side of the general, so as to catch him should he discover and dodge the fire.
