The Crimson Claymore Read Online Free Page B

the ground with the draeyk on top of her. A dagger pierced through the rough scales of the creature’s back as its carcass lay upon her.
    Searon slid down the hill and mounted his stallion, shaking his reins, causing his pearl-and-onyx steed to gallop down the hill. The final draeyk glared at Searon as his horse rushed down the hill toward the creature. He held his claymore in his right hand, its weight making him lean slightly on the right from its heftiness. When in range, he jumped from Stripes and collided with the creature, knocking it to the ground along with its axe. He rose to his feet and placed both hands on his claymore, steadying the two-handed weapon, and swung it to each side of him before holding it secure in front of his face. The draeyk rolled and got to its feet with an axe in each hand, obviously taken from a fallen comrade. Both axes spun in the creature’s hands, moving so fast that it was hard to tell whether the draeyk was about to slash at Searon with the two weapons or throw them at him.
    Want to dance? Let’s dance, Searon thought as he gripped his claymore tighter and swung the long blade at an toward the creature’s left temple. The axes stopped twirling, and the one in its left hand abruptly shot up and blocked Searon’s strike while the right swung toward Searon’s armor. He was caught unexpected, and the axe crushed in his plate mail on his left shoulder. He quickly backed away and felt pain and blood dripping down his arm. The pain didn’t slow him and he kept his composure more than he, even, expected of himself. He changed into defense and blocked one strike then the next. The axe struck short of reaching him and was harmlessly deflected.
    Searon dashed forward now, growing impatient; and turning himself onto offense, he knocked an axe to the ground—along with the draeyk’s hand who’d held it. The creature snarled, showing its sharpened yellow teeth. Nothing but rage came from the creature, and Searon held his own against the quickened attacks but had to come up with a new plan to end the battle—and quickly. Many options circled his mind, and he picked one quickly, tossing his claymore toward the creature that leaped out of the way to avoid being struck. Searon dove to the ground, gripping an axe from a fallen draeyk and launched it toward the last draeyk, impaling it in the head. The creature’s jaw opened slightly before falling backward the ground.
    Without a second thought, he rushed to the dead creature and sheathed his claymore. Surrounding him, he noticed, were nine dead draeyk. Vinegar and vomit attacked his nose again, and he looked around. With nine dead that meant the woman had defeated four before he even noticed her. That was quite impressive, and Searon didn’t know of anyone besides himself that shared such a feat.
    Searon rushed to the body that had fallen on top of the woman and jerked it off, tossing it to the side. He was surprised to find nothing underneath the creature but flattened grass.
    “Looking for me?” a deep female voice asked.
    Searon turned around abruptly and saw her standing before him with her teal-and-gold helm wedged between her elbow and breast. Blonde hair hung behind her head in a tight blue silk ponytail with two thick strands falling in front of her ears and down past her breastplate. Her skin was pale blue but radiated light that made her armor glow brighter in the sun. A loose shorter strand of hair that was considerably thinner than the other two fell upon her cheek. She had dark-scarlet lips that added to her beauty. Her eyes were a deep silver sapphire that sparkled as strongly as the gem itself, but the strangest of all were her silver eyebrows.
    She wore tight midnight-blue chain mail with gold patches of plate mail throughout her arms, and golden swirls upon her chestplate. A blue-and-gold plate mail skirt hung at her waist that stopped just above her knees. Her boots didn’t start until her knees, leaving a few inches of