As the hellish hoof descended towards his helpless head, a tugging came at Seth's arm that quickly dragged him out of the way, just before the hoof could splatter his brain across the ground.

The tugging in question didn't come from another person, not even a beast, dragging home out of the way. Instead it came from the dagger he had desperately kept within his grasp while he had been swung around like a living wrecking ball, never letting it slip from between his fingers as if his life depended on it.

As it turned out, it actually did depend on it. Go figure.

Controlled by Seth's spectral threads, the dagger, the [Kiss of Death], moved itself through the air like a sparrow and dragged Seth along with it like a rag doll. His body glided across the ground unnaturally before being lifted into the air by his hand and placed onto his feet, where he immediately winced in pain.

The silken web that had ensnared him had snapped, and the tumble he took was a result of that. There was some residue of the web, wisps of pure white silk that was slowly being stained red, as his foot was twisted at an odd angle.

Cuts, scrapes and bruises littered his body from his trip throughout the battlefield, and from being unceremoniously smashed into the ground and into so many people. It was actually unclear if all of the blood stains on his armour was entirely his, but that was seriously unlikely at this point.

A shrill screech, like using a nail file on a blackboard, yanked his attention back to the fight he had just been caught underneath, and the creature that had been about to splatter his brains under foot. What else could that creature be, but the Nuckelavee. The demonic horse rider of ruin.

However this beast was looking much worse for wear than the last time he had witnessed it's horrific majesty. The muscles fibres that composed and covered its entire, skinless body had melted in certain places. Leaving holes in its being that revealed gnarled, twisted and unnatural bone structures that went against many laws of nature.

The human half was most effected, its entire head melted and revealing the twisted, sickly grey skull hidden beneath the mask of muscles. A skull with glowing, hateful orbs in the eye sockets and a mouth full of so many needle like teeth they were literally overflowing from where the mouth should end, moving down to its chin and up to its nose.

Any one dumb enough to try to punch this thing in the face would end up with a completely shredded hand, if they were lucky. They would have been better off just sticking their hand in a blender and pressing puree.

One of its long, knuckle dragging arms was missing, the stump ending just underneath the elbow joint as the muscles were blackened and still hissing, as if it had been burned to cinders. Many of its other wounds shared these features exactly.

Yet Seth could see, as the other hand was clawing desperately at the knight in golden armour, that it wasn't fire responsible for these injuries, but water.

As Erik slipped from the creatures grasp once more, he blasted a water balloon sized globule of water at the Nuckelavee, causing it to let out another hateful screech as its body sizzled and melted, as the refreshing, pure water acted like acid as soon as it touched it. Not powerful enough to completely melt it in one go, but enough to make this once indestructible beast understand the meaning of pain.

Even when Erik batted away its hand with his own, the creature recoiled in pain, its non-skin hissing at the slightest touch of the cerulean skinned man. Finally, it seemed, his perpetual sweatiness had come in handy. Good for him.

This demonic horseman was not stupid, however. It knew that grabbing at the sizzling blue boy was not a smart idea and that it would only cause itself pain, but it didn't seem to have very much more choice.

When it tried to switch up its tactics, and tried to exhale a cloud of withering death, a pure white figure darted out of the crowd and plunged directly into the forming black cloud. With a glint of light, this mysterious figure leapt from the cloud right in front of the Nuckelavee's horse face and slashed his water coated blade across its throat.

The freshly formed wound immediately started to hiss and smoke, the muscles around the gash shrivelling like prunes as the withering breath was quickly cut off before it could do any harm. As for the figure in question, they quickly leapt backwards to avoid the remaining claw.

The black smoke, which spelled death for so many at the slightest touch, curled off of Bob's pure white, mannequin body harmlessly. He may as well be taking a refreshing shower, as the withering smoke was unable to damage the flesh he simply didn't have.

"Fa- Seth? Why are you here sir? To watch me fight?"

Bob tilted his head curiously at the sight of his beloved father, straightening his back even more and slightly puffing out his chest. He quickly brushed himself off, seemingly becoming very concerned with his appearance all of a sudden, although all Seth couldn't understand why. After all, the only thing he was brushing off was the smoke.

"DOWN!"

Despite not getting the answer he was hoping for, Bob didn't hesitate for even a second. He was already planting one knee onto the ground before Seth had even finished saying the single word, understanding the urgency and commanding tone in his fathers voice.

A scarlet blur shot over Bob's head, slamming into the Nuckelavee and sending them both sprawling across the ground, as the Heart-Eater tackled the beast and immediately began to carve into it with his tendrilled arm.

"What ever happens, he cannot get that things heart, understand."

"Yes sir!"

With a quick nod of his head, Bob quickly stood and turned to his new opponent, as well as his old one, in one smooth motion before taking off in a sprint. He might not have been as fast as Seth or the Heart-Eater, but by god did the boy not have a shred of fear within his body as he eagerly leapt into the fray.

Seth was about to follow Bob, but a single step caused his ankle to erupt in a flood of pain. It felt like it was ready to explode if he put too much pressure on it. Containing his pained cries, and biting his lip until it bled, Seth shifted his weight onto his good foot and considered his options.

Walking was definitely out of the question, never mind running. He could probably manage to dodge once or twice, but once they figured out he was hopping like a pogo stick, he'd be easy pickings.

Flying was definitely the only viable option, but how to do it? Sword surfing? No, that presented the same issues as walking. Plus he already had enough difficulty balancing on one when it came to his last surf session, and that was when both of his legs were working.

He could fly about with his dagger, do a wonderful superman impression along the way. That could work... But if they knocked the dagger out of his hand, or god forbid chopped off his other hand, he'd be a sitting duck. Not to mention he wouldn't be able to attack or defend with that hand and would have to rely entirely on puppeteered weaponry.

That was no good either. What he needed was a way to do it without relying on his limbs. If he could make his armour fly with him in it, then it would be problem solved. But he had already tried that a few times before and it didn't work. He could make clothes walk, but not fly.

Gnawing at his lip, Seth sighed softly as the best possible idea came into his head. It wasn't a good idea, but it was the best one. It was either that or sit back and let these people fight this monster while he cowered behind them uselessly.

No, that wasn't even an option. It was one thing to send puppets to be his meat shields, but people? That wasn't him. He had beat Sirius to a pulp for such things, and even if he hadn't, Seth still wouldn't consider it. It wasn't just out of a fear of being hypocritical, it was just a matter of principles.

'Fuck... This is gonna be hell.'

Clenching his fist, Seth prepared for what was about to happen next. As Bob threw himself into the fray, a pair of arrows shot through the air from Seth's previous battle location and soared over the surrounding skirmishes.

They whistled through the air, moving in unison as they curved around to make their perfect flight path before finally hitting their target.

Seth winced in pain, holding in his screams once more, as the arrows burst through his shoulders, just below his collarbone with one on either side. The arrows stayed rooted in him as, with a pained thought, Seth lifted off of the ground and began to fly.

His legs dangling helplessly, one of them twisted at an odd angle, as the arrows dragged him into the air and allowed his flight. Every movement pressing the arrows shafts against his fresh wounds as he hung from them like nothing more than a puppet on strings.

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