Act 4: Fallen Heaven - Chapter 617: My Turn
Lelex raised his fists, now clenched with brass knuckles, and summoned his anima. A blue tiger anima with unusually long claws that crackled lightning prowled near his master and pounced, dissolving into specks of Ein that flowed into the brass knuckles, a roar of thunder and beast merging into a shockwave of intense Ein that spread statics arcing in the empty air. It took Kragg a moment to realize that the Meld form was truly unimpressive, the brass knuckles turning from gold to blue. It looked weak and plain, yet his beastly instincts knew that it was anything but that.
Baring his slightly protruding fangs, Kragg charged without care. Unlike the others like Santen and Marcus, who would have observed in caution, he believed only in full frontal power. Lightning quickened his pace, the rapid beating of thunder escaping from his steps. Lelex matched him at the same lightning speed, their gazes unblinking on each other. Exchanging a fierce smile, Kragg stomped and raised his fist.
Kragg punched out in a wild force of lightning. His bare knuckles reached Lelex's brass knuckles, and a single ripple of coiling thunderbolt burst in a flash from their clash, its booming sound piercing his ears. Kragg could see Lelex's eyes widen in shock as his fist was slowly pushing him back. A few more inches, and he would carve out the heart. But a sharp pain came from his wrist, his arm no longer able to delve deeper to plunge out Lelex's chest. Stunned, he found deep gashes on his thick forearm, blood pouring from the wide punctures. He recalled this type of injury, having received them many times.
He had been bitten. He could never mistake this injury. Clenching his arm to hold back the blood, Kragg tugged but could not pull his arm away as if a beast had bitten down hard, refusing to let go of its meal. Lelex gave him a nasty smile, a maddened delight stretching those lips to the eyes. Several thunderbolts manifested above Kragg, looming over him like an executioner's blade, their crackles sounding similar to the sharpening of blades.U//ppTodated fr/o/m nô/v/e/lb(i)n.c(o)\/m
They reached him in a flash that shone brighter than the two suns, their sharp tips right before his pupils. Kragg swung wildly, smashing them apart as their remnants landed on him, exploding into powerful static that scarred his skin. Suddenly, Lelex's other fist thundered toward him, and he readjusted, unwilling to back down. He regained his smile and blocked the attack with his fist, deep gashes now bleeding from his other arm. A flicker of pain twitched on Lelex's brow, but his brass knuckles began to glow, lightning sparking from the metal.
Sensing the incoming danger, Kragg hastened his lion transformation, but it was too late. Arcs of thunderous Ein gathered and exploded, filling the air with lightning, the ripples of power disturbing the airships as they swayed about to the electrical tide. Kragg pulled back, the invisible power no longer holding him in place. The stench of burnt flesh and blood was all he could smell. His hands up to halfway his forearms had been charred black, the skin cracking to expose burnt flesh and hot blood.
Undisturbed, Kragg shrugged off black flakes from his arms. He heard someone cry out behind him, the voice very low and indiscernible to most, but his ears had long since been accustomed to it, to be sensitive to her cries. He was sure it was Restel silently sobbing in the back. 'That idiot.' He thought while strolling in a relaxed manner to Lelex to show her it was nothing. After all, they had survived that horrid place together, and this battle was trivial compared to that.
Brutally, he punched out again with no regard for the condition of his arms. Lelex seemed to be in disbelief as his reaction was delayed, yet he somehow managed to meet him, clearly glad to continue the exchange of fists. Kragg noticed the painful twitch on Lelex's brow again, sweat beading down his face. Before his enemy had a chance, his other fist swung at him, meeting the brass knuckles. Another deeper pang of pain squinted Lelex's eyes.
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
"Third round. Santen, go." He ignored the old Togros's inquiries. At his command, Santen bowed and flew out, many whispering at his arrival, seemingly shocked by his lanky figure with long limbs. It didn't come as a surprise to see their shock. Even Demon had been taken aback at the impossible figure of Santen when he discovered him.
Areus frowned, and a new challenger stepped out from the lineup. Uninterested, Demon ignored the introductions, not sparing an iota of memory to the name. After all, Santen was the more grounded and one of the most powerful members of his group. He was interested in Kragg's and Astrid's performances, and while rough, they cleared his test. But Santen and Marcus didn't require any more assessments.
The battle started, and as expected, Santen clasped his hands together on the enemy's sword. The enemy slashed fast and directly, all aimed to sever Santen's limbs, but he swayed his arms in an odd motion, his hand skimming on the cold blade to change its course, delicate touches that seemed incomprehensible to the foe. No matter the water spell, Santen ended it with a clap of hands, crushing it all, even breaking apart a water prison threatening to drown him.
'Can this just end?' Santen had an aversion to attacking. Minding the time, Demon said, "Santen, end it."
"Understood." Santen raised his hand high and brought it down, garnering Demon's approval. The enemy could not withstand the blow, his sword blown back to press on his flesh as a long, bloody cut started from the shoulder down to the thigh. Areus rushed in and deflected Santen's attack, and it veered off to the left and split the ocean halfway to the horizon.
"Fourth round, Marcus. Make it quick." Staring at Areus's angered glare, Demon wondered how strong that old man was. Surely, he would be a better challenge. While Demon pondered, Marcus burst ahead and pointed at one of the Togros warriors, declaring his imminent victory. And it was a quick victory. Marcus faced a foe that hunted him, constantly circling his back, but a tiger could never fight a dragon. The floating scales tore the warrior to near shreds.
"Well done," Demon welcomed Marcus's return. "You've maintained control up to this extent."
"I will not disappoint you like I did years ago. My Lord deserves the best warrior." Marcus knelt. He turned his head to the Togros and remarked, "I feel they are not worthy of fighting you, my Lord."
"Maybe. But I suppose I will go and find out." Demon floated upward and waited. His turn had finally arrived.