Another whistle, another blow. Erdil reacted by deflecting the blow. For a moment, he made out the figure of a two-meter tall silhouette with a sword. Lyre-shaped horns, blue skin reflecting the brilliance of the moon, jet-black hair and a complete lack of emotion on his face. Just for a moment. And then nothing happened, the creature disappeared into the blackness of that night.
"What the hell?" Wayon swore.
—Quiet… Look.
From behind and in front, ten paces from the brothers, a mist appeared out of the darkness, black and alive. This mist blocked their way, and cut off their escape route. After a moment, the smoke gathered into a shape, the shape of that horned trash, as Wayon noted.
— We're lucky! Erdil shouted with a smile. "There are only two of them.
— Yeah, I'm going to shit myself with happiness.. Wayon barely mumbled.