Kairils held the reins in one hand, his other still poised from throwing the spear.
His chest heaved violently, and another streak of glaring crimson spilled from the corner of his mouth.
But while Kairils caught his breath, three more red-eyed Cultists lunged at him from the side, their spears aimed straight at his ribs.
"Get back!!"
Knight Viel charged in from beside him with a furious roar, limping on a blood-soaked leg.
His standard-issue longsword was already covered in notches, but he fought with his life on the line. He caught the incoming spearheads in the armor on his left arm, then swept his sword sideways with his right, slicing off two enemies' heads!
"Hah... hah... hah..."
Viel gasped for breath, almost completely spent.
He leaned his back heavily against Kairils's warhorse.
They were together again.
The two Second-Tier Knights of Winterhold were now trapped at the center of a tight encirclement of dozens of Cultists.
"Captain..."
With his back against Kairils, Viel forced an utterly wretched smile:
"Looks like today... we're really going to die out here in the middle of nowhere."
Kairils did not look back. He merely tightened his reverse grip on the Bone Blade, his eyes still terrifyingly cold:
"Scared?"
"Scared, my ass!"
Viel spat out a mouthful of bloody froth, laughing and cursing with reckless abandon:
"Kairils, I'll be honest. I really did look down on you before! But now you've won me over! You're more qualified to be captain than anyone!"
"I've spent my whole damn life coasting along. For once, I want to be a knight!"
"Save your breath."
Kairils spoke quietly, his eyes fixed on the second-tier captain among the Cultist army:
"In another two minutes, I'll recover a little more divine power."
"When I tear an opening in their lines,