Barin swung the severed arm of a ghoul, knocking away any heretic it touched. Though sturdy, it soon broke under such forceful swings.
He casually tossed it aside, hitting one target, then caught another heretic who couldn't dodge in time. With a twist of his hands, he unscrewed the head like a bottle cap, causing blood to spurt out like soda.
In the next second, however, the claws of a heretic struck, as several swarmed and trapped him instantly...
At this moment, a longsword engulfed in flames swung out, with the flames growing, bolstered by mana, forming a fan-shaped wave sweeping over the heretics.
The flames clung to the heretics, making them struggle madly.
Geralt surged forward with his sword, slaying the heretics clinging to Barin, but noticed that the warrior seemed to have a stopped heart, yet refused to fall.
Never before had Geralt felt such a strong sense of guilt. How could he think of retreating!
