Tw: Violence, themes, gore
-
The metalic taste of blood registered on Anthony's mouth - It was also salty just like what he's feeling right now - forced to take the mocking laughter of Trace, the enemy general while desperately trying to escape his adversary's sharp blades. Anthony's cold sweat was all over him; it already began to stung his eyes - blurring the advancing image of Trace as twin swords heavily danced with Anthony's shears. He gripped his shears tighter; the metal cools against his clammy palms.
"Pathetic! " Trace smirked, one of his swords pushed Anthony's blade. They were seeing each other eye to eye. "You looked like a cornered rat! Stop resisting! " The twin sword glimmered in the moonlight as relentless strikes were thrown against Anthony's already fragile defense.
Anthony's breath hitched. His wounded side ache; blood wetting the fabric of his clothes. His brows furrowed, a soft groan escaped his lips. Yet he managed to release a determined cry, "Shut up! "
Despite the exhaustion of his muscles and the call of his pain - Anthony bathed with stubborn defiance - it was evident on his golden orbs, refusing to throw away his will because of adversity. He couldn't afford to give up. His companions trusted him and he wouldn't let Trace have the satisfaction he was craving from him.
Gritting his teeth, Anthony lunged forward; discharging a set of adrenaline filled blows - snapping against Trace's whirling blades. The clang of metal resonated in the tense air. But no matter how fast Anthony's strikes were - it was proved as worthless against Trace's might - parrying each of Anthony's clumsy swipes with ease.
"Give it up, kid! " Trace bellowed. His blade successfully wounded Anthony's arm. Anthony recoiled in pain leaving a satisfied sneer etched on Trace's lips.
"Even your healer friend couldn't fix that! Either way, you'll die in my hands, halfling! " Trace boasted; waiting to see Anthony's expression of despair he's expecting to witness yet he never received any of it - Anthony's eyes were painted with a heavy glint of determination.
Anthony's breathing was ragged, trying his best not to succumb with the pain that's invading his system. But his gaze remained unwavering; fixed directly on his enemy. His hands were shaking but his shears were raised in a defensive stance.
As if he's ready to throw his life on the line.
The resolve that Anthony holds unsettled Trace. His jaw clenched watching the young man pitifully struggle. He shook his head in disbelief, he couldn't understand. "You're weak. You should be begging for your life right now. " His tone felt like he's trying to make sense. He wanted to see what his victims usually do but this man... is different.
The next thing Anthony does infuriates him more. There's a hint of acceptance somewhere written on his face. "I know I am weak. But I am fighting with a resolve I clearly remember with the right methods and if that will kill me... atleast I'd die at peace. " A faint serene smile carved on his lips but for Trace - it seems teasing. "Are you? " Anthony raised a question, his eyes glanced at Trace's and for some reason unknown to him; he instinctively tried to avoid it.
Trace knows what he's fighting for - to obliterate the nymphs for revenge. But when the moment his master took him under his wings - those memories started to leave him but not his unsated fury bottled in his heart. That no matter how much more of their blood paints on his hands... it's not nearly enough - so, he craved for more. But everytime he did it - the blurry face of a woman crying felt like a recurring hallucination and every time she's there - his heart heavily ache - it felt like he's being ripped apart and if his eyes wished for him to shed tears; it became incapable as if it already exhausted everything it could ever weep He tried to wipe her memories down but she's like a ghost that haunts him and when he raised it on his master he told him that maybe that woman was the reason he's here and she's urging him to fight for her sake...he believed him.
His heart soured with envy - a feeling foreign to him and he didn't dare to confront. He hated it... seeing his enemy with no way of advantage still had a way to dominate him. It was unwelcoming and confusing. Maybe because he's used to nymphs being weak against him but deep in his heart - he knew there's something more. But it's easier to be angry than to oppose your own shadows.
A bubble of anger simmered inside of him and it's all targeting to Anthony. "Prepare yourself! " Malevolent aura cackled around him; a black shadow materialized around his foot until two detestable beings sprang forth - it was two heads with a thick scale - their eyes were read and their mouth with full set of razor sharp teeth; oozing saliva dripped to the floor with an acidic hiss.
All Anthony could do was to silently pray for the best - a miraculous streak of his own powers... perhaps.
He stopped believing in fantasy and miracles before - but this time he'll clung to it - desperately.
-
On the other side of the battlefield - Aegir was feeling frustrated. His knuckles were getting painful inside his gauntlets. Each passing seconds he's trying to land a finishing blow to the skull-like creature Trace summoned.
"Damn it! " he cursed under his breath as he bombarded another combo of punches and hits with his claws.
And just like before; he will successfully drill a hole over the creature but immediately; with a faint purple glow - it will knit itself together again - mouth releasing a ferocious growl.
He already tried to overwrite the magic present on the creature but to no avail. "This has to stop! I don't have the time to play with you further! " The furrows between his brows deepened, his usual positive orbs now resembled a feral cat - iris in a slit glint.
He was getting restless; apart from the exhaustion of his muscles and energy - he was anxious about his master Anthony. He couldn't take a glance on what's happening to him because the creature was keeping him busy.
"What to do? " he whispered to himself. In light with his anguish; Aegir's eyes darted over the intricate carvings on his gauntlets - the claws that were resting on it were gleaming with majestic sharpness. A silent plea formed on his lips; he really needed to turn the tables now and assist his master right away.
An idea popped into his mind - detachable claws that resembled the power of a boomerang just like Anthony's favorite character from an anime he's watching. Aegir's usual skills were controlling the being themselves and overwriting their binds with their original contractor but this time he wants to govern not the entity themselves but the energy - the essence Trace put in this creature for him to stop these from reviving.
"Can I really do it? " Aegir asked himself, there's a hint of doubt... and fear laced on his voice. His mana is near on its brink; creating another technique is a risky gamble that requires an ample amount of mana.
He's been conserving all of his nine lives through his lifetime but this time - it doesn't feel wrong to take a chance. It's for Anthony and nothing is a waste for him.
He's terrified but he needs to do this!
"Alright. " He braced himself; putting his fist forward, ready to go another round with his enemy who were also gearing up to attack him.
Aegir's orbs filled with concentration. A surge of light pink mana - shimmering and highly potent encased both of his hands. It was swaying slowly like a calm wind. In his mind's eye, he imagines it flowing freely throughout his gauntlets; creeping seamlessly around the sharp claws to its tips. Enabling them to detach and reattach themselves with the gauntlets. With a mental push, he shaped them to be an extension of his mana-infused form.
His eyes were filled with wonder as he saw it all unfold - the claws filled with pink mana were levitating in the air and the mana that keeps them together is tied to his weapon. As his new technique unmasked itself; Aegir also couldn't help but to feel the sudden heaviness hit his body. His eyelids were drooping. "No! " He yelled, using his sheer will to remain standing.
He couldn't afford to stop. Not now.
With narrow eyes and bleeding nose, his gaze was fixed to his enemy. He envisioned its flow of energy inside its body. "I-I need to keep it together so it won't regenerate. " His vision was getting hazy yet he still tried to picture his own mana to change its properties to something with thick viscosity and akin to that of acid.
He wants to keep them together and destroy them in one go.
Aegir started to cough blood yet he dared to raise his fist to prepare delivering his attack to the enemy who was now making its way towards him. "Claws of Annihilation! " Aegir cried; commanding his detached claws imbued with his mana to strike his opponent.
The claws moved with a blindingly fast strike. Its razor sharp blade sliced through the skull-creature with terrifying ease; severing its body into tiny bits. The creature was caught entirely off guard to defend the attack - its reaction time proved inferior to Aegir's deadly onslaught.
Aegir's mana, infused with a unique consistency, held the creature's form together - staying still in the air - preventing its usual regenerative abilities. A burning hiss could be heard, eating away the creature's parts. The once formidable opponent disintegrated into a cloud of pink dust, scattering like glitters in the air until they hit the solid ground.
With a heavy breathing, Aegir slumped on the ground. "It's over. " He coughed blood; spraying it all over his clothes. His eyes were filled with relief - a stark contrast with the burden his body is experiencing.
Words started to form in his mind - the usual scene when a new successful technique was introduced for his usage.
[Magic] Claws of Annihilation
"A blinding claws of destruction - bandit of essence and bringer of corrosion. "
[Affinity] Light, Earth, Water
[Intrinsic skill] Mana Eater, Anti-Regenerative
[Spells] The Price of Desperation
The henchman of greed preys down to the wicked.
Replenishes caster's mana from what it ate away from the opponent. "
A small smile etched on Aegir's lips. "Not dying, uh? " But he knew whatever mana was left from his opponent that has been passed to him was not enough to trigger the same magic.
"Will I make it? " Doubt was on his mind, his teeth clenching together.
His body wished to just lie there but he knew he couldn't afford it. "Aegir, you can do this! " He mustered his will; pushing himself off the ground - his muscles were screaming with utmost protest. A shed of tears was already making its way out of his eyes.
His whole body was aching - it felt like it was pressed by something heavy and it's one step closer to be pulverized. Blood sprayed to his chin as he welcomed another wet cough.
"No... " Fresh blood smeared his path; his mouth was in dire need to draw some air.
He paused. "I am not yet dead, I can do it! " he urged his legs to move again - limping on every step of the way. He bit his lip as he struggled; his vision was already seeing red.
'Master, hang in there! '
Aegir was pleading; his legs were almost giving up - his blood left a long trail as he walked. It felt like eternity - a repetitive cycle of him struggling to walk as his body pleaded him to stop.
He was steps closer to where Anthony was. The smile on his face was swift to appear but like burning fire in a candle - it also died down the fastest...
Anthony's screams pierced through the chaos. And it was at that moment that Aegir managed to surge forward.
"Anthony! " His own screams were also heard; adrenaline laced through his legs - making an impossible run.
-