Chapter 770: Three as One and Prey

Name:Mark of the Fool Author:
Chapter 770: Three as One and Prey

Power, flowing from her swords, raced through Theresa's veins.

Energies churned throughout her being, uniting with her reinforced lifeforce. They shone with the essence of life and divinity.

Gabrian shrank back. What is this? he cried.

The world continued slowing around the huntress, filling her every muscle fibre with newfound strength. Her heart thundered, her bones hardened, her senses sharpened, growing clearer.

Power surged inside her core, linking her training, energy and will. It flowed through the link between her and Brutus, fuelling the connection, strengthening it. Together, their power grew, flowing between them, concentrating in the blades and the cerberus form.

Their energies grew to overflowing, spilling over, finally splitting.

As Theresa raised her swords, the blades shone with a strange witch-light that theyd never had before, it drifted off them, replicating their shape in phantom replicas around her.

The phantom blades hovered in the air as she held the swords higher, raising them above her head. Two shimmering blades of life energy hung suspended in the air on either side of her body, forming six blades in all; four phantom and two of solid steel. Three on either side. Three, like the number of heads Brutus had. Theresa felt giddy, elated.She was smiling. This was your secret all along, great-grandfather, this was it.

I don't care about you or anyone related to you, Gabrian snarled. Every last one of you is going to diebut youll be the first.

He lunged suddenly, his sword swinging down.

She blurred away, now a perfect union with the Twinbladeher swords a natural extension of her body, as united with her as her fingers and toes. The phantom blades trailed after her sword at first, then began striking from different angles.

Two flew up, joining together, locking onto Gabrians blade, deflecting it to the side. The First Apostle tried to free it, but the phantom bladesslid down the metal weapon, catching it by the crossguard.

They tangled with it, while their master struck.

She slashed long draw cuts along his torso, opening deep wounds. He screamed, then muttered a prayer of healing, freeing his sword and springing away. Instantly, two phantom blades circled behind him, slashing the back of his thighs and calves. Arrrgh! he cried out, then began healing himself.

No sooner than his flesh had stitched together, the blades were on him again, carving his body like hed done to Theresa in that snowy forest months earlier.

He became a blur of motion, but was being flanked on all sides. A pair of phantom blades appeared on either side of him, slashing his legs. Two more were behind him, cutting him from behind, and the huntress was in front of him, striking at his face.

He was now the one taking dozens of wounds, and though he was healing them, he was clearly off-balance.

Off-balance, but still dangerous.

Enough! he shouted, swinging at her side.

The sword came on in a blur. While she struck high; her swords arcing downwardslashing his back and sideshis foot drove up, aiming for her thigh.

But, she was already gone.

His foot passed through empty air, his sword found no physical weapons waiting, but they did find a pair of phantom blades in her place.

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Where had she gone?

His mind was racing, trying to understand what had happened when two deep gashes pierced his flesh, cutting him down to the bone.

He shrieked, quickly healing his wounds and spinning around, his eyes frantic.

The huntress was there, but how had she gotten behind him?

The pair of phantom blades on either side of him moved to one side, slashing at his right leg.

Is this more accursed teleportation from you too? he grunted, thrusting his blade at her face.

She parried with one sword, struck him with the otherthen disappeared mid-swing. Where she and her physical swords had just been, only a pair of phantom blades remained.

To his right, where there had been one pair of phantom blades, now theyd been replaced by an enraged warrior, cutting deep into his ribs.

He hissed in agony, swinging at her, but she disappeared again.

He grinned at his prey, pursing his lips and whistling.

Much of Uldars white floors had been chewed up by spells and maul-blows. The gods body was lying still on a patch of untouched floor, like a calm island in the middle of a storm-wracked sea.

The Stalker could make use of the ruined stone.

As he whistled, a cloud of stone chips and debris suddenly rose into the air like a swarm of wasps. With a flick of his finger, he swept the shrapnel toward the cerberus, surrounding him in a cloud of shredded stone.

Most of the chips bounced off his bone armour, but some cut into the hounds wound and struck his eyes, noses and mouths. He bucked and shook, snapping at the air, lashing out with his sonic blastsand was blind to the Stalkers headlong rush.

The fae swept the cerberus onto his antlers and charged, bending down, running straight at a wall.

Bone crunched and the cerberus howled, yelping in agony. The Stalker was laughing again, grinding his hooves against the stone, pinning his prey between the floor and Uldars wall, crushing him and driving the breath from the creature's lungs. He reached down, slashing at the hounds wound with his claws.

Either a crushed carcass or a butchered one, the Stalker said lightly. Either way works for me.

Brutus! Theresa screamed, panic surging through her. She tried to get away to help him, but the First Apostles storm of magic kept raining down on her.

It was all she could do to save herself from the flame.

The Stalkers antlers pinned Brutus between the floor and wall, ramming his bone armour without mercy. A shadow appeared above the transformed fae, growing, descending over the Stalker and cerberus.

Theresas mind flashed to a sparring match between herself, Hart, and Grimloch.

She remembered how it had ended.

What the? the Stalker muttered as a shadow fell over him.

He glanced to his left.

His eyes flew wide.

The sharkman was there, leaning over. The decidedly not dead sharkman.

The sharkman whose jaws were wide open.

Before the fae could spring away, his world turned dark.

Those enormous jaws closed on his head and much of his torso.

They bit down, powered by bone crushing force.

The Stalker panicked, struggling to get free, butbent over as he washe had little leverage. His cloven hooves scraped uselessly against the stone floor.

No! He screamed, clawing at the monster that had him in its jaws. A powerful hand grabbed one of his overly long arms, three sets of fangs grabbed the other one.

Let go of me! he shrieked, sounding like he was in a cave as the sharkmans jaws continued to bite down. He felt his bones begin to pop. Row after row of razor-sharp teeth shredded his tough hide. Not like this! His words sounded muffled. Im the hunter, not the prey! Gabrian, help me, my hound! Come to me! I'm the hunter! I'm

A single wordgrunted by the sharkman biting down on himreached his ears.

Lunch.

His body gave way.

Flesh shredded.

Bone collapsed.

Agonising pain gripped his skull, an impossible pressure built until

pop.

The Stalker knew no more.