Thorne dodged the lethal strike like a serpent evading a predator's lunge, his lightning-fast reflexes on display.
"Damn, this elusive warrior has been concealing his true might, preventing me from assessing his complete capabilities. Clever bastard," Galen muttered, begrudgingly admiring the opponent's tactics. "Thorne, let's switch. I crave a genuine test of my mettle. Killing those feeble guards for their armor was mere child's play."
Exhausted, Thorne replied irritably, "We've switched a lot already. Are you serious?" He narrowly sidestepped the warrior's sword as it whistled past his neck, barely missing its target.
"Switch, or I'll abandon our quest for the king's head. I refuse to endure monotony; I'd prefer to slumber and replenish my mana," Galen threatened, his voice brimming with defiance.
"Sometimes, you're simply insufferable. Fine, we'll switch, you overgrown child. But if anything goes wrong, don't blame me; my body has been acting strangely during the swap lately," Thorne retorted, his brow creased with vexation.
Like a raptor circling its prey, Zarex glided around Thorne, ready to pounce once more. Thorne's body shuddered, forcing him to crumple to the ground like a marionette with severed strings, caught in the throes of a violent seizure.
"I knew this was a terrible idea," Thorne grumbled, wrestling with the metamorphosis.
"Finally, I'm prepared... This warrior may not offer the ultimate challenge I yearn for, as his movements are as predictable as a metronome, but he'll have to suffice," Galen pronounced, his tone laced with disillusionment.
"All that bravado only to cower in the face of danger," the warrior taunted, disappointment heavy in his voice as he leaped into the air, spiraling down in an attempt to strike Thorne's convulsing body. Just as the warrior's sword tip was a hair's breadth from finding its mark on Thorne's skull, Galen seized full control and unleashed a formidable arcane spell, "Psionic Burst!" The force of the spell sent the warrior careening backward, slamming him into a weathered stone wall.
"With deep appreciation for your expertly woven illusion spell that decimated the enemy ranks, I shall bestow upon you a favor," Galen declared to Thorne. His eyes darted briefly to Kander, who launched frigid projectiles at Varence. The latter scrambled for cover behind a mound of wreckage.
"I can sense your thoughts, but let Varence die! Your mana is on the verge of exhaustion, and we require every imaginable edge to prevail over this formidable foe," Thorne cautioned, his voice laced with anxiety.
Galen's expression briefly clouded with puzzlement before he responded, "The instant I choose to rescue someone I've come to grudgingly accept, you urge restraint? You incessantly advocate for the preservation of life, yet in reality, you're no nobler than I. Truly, I dare assert that you might be an even more adept slayer than myself." Galen's voice was devoid of emotion, utterly dispassionate.
Zarex exploded from the ground, rocketing through the air like a cheetah pursuing its prey with unrelenting speed. It seemed as though he defied gravity, hovering just above the ground as the air churned and roiled in his wake, a testament to his sheer force. "His sword gleamed with lethal intent, its razor-sharp edge aimed at Galen's heart."
Galen sidestepped the strike gracefully, his effortless movements making it appear as though he were bored, toying with his adversary. In the background, the dark clouds above the battlefield roiled and churned, casting a gloomy pallor over the scene, echoing the increasing tension and desperation of the fight.
The warrior came to an abrupt halt, launching a barrage of blades towards Galen. Each one veered off course, missing their intended target by a significant distance.
"May I inquire as to your well-being? While your initial strategy to conceal your power was rather cunning, if you're unable to wield it effectively, you're no different from a common human," Galen addressed Zarex, his eyes glazed with ennui.
"I must admit, I'm surprised by your prowess in arcane magic and your expertise in illusion magic," Zarex remarked. "My talisman had previously indicated your proficiency only in enchanting and illusion magic."
"I observe that you possess a penchant for verbosity as well," Galen quipped sarcastically. "Would you care for an invitation to our eloquent club?"
"You've never encountered a talisman before? What manner of deficient... mage, warrior, or whatever you may be, are you?" Zarex inquired, utterly bewildered. "Regardless, you'll die like all the others" Zarex retorted. "Still, I must admit, I'm baffled. I see that your body is enchanted, but it seems as if you can anticipate my every move. Enhancing your abilities to such a degree should be impossible."
"Are you implying that I'll meet my demise like your fallen comrades? I don't mean to boast, but my confidence in victory is so unwavering that I'm willing to impose several handicaps upon myself. Firstly, I'll reveal the fatal flaw in your strategy: you consistently aim for lethal strikes, making your next move all too easy to predict," Galen explained, his tone reminiscent of a lecturer.
"This is a terrible idea," Thorne lamented, his voice heavy with dismay.
"I don't recall soliciting your opinion! This is my battle, and I'll engage as I see fit," Galen retorted, anger in his voice as he addressed Thorne's uninvited commentary in front of Zarex.
"I believe I understand now why my talisman detects two presences even though I stand before a single individual. It accounts for your diverse abilities and your extraordinarily vast mana reservoir. Indeed, this revelation explains everything. You are a truly exceptional being," Zarex mused, his eyes alight with fascination.
"By all means, continue discussing your self-imposed handicaps. I'll grant you this courtesy to speak, but should your internal companion interrupt you once more, I will show no mercy," Zarex warned, an air of authority in his voice as though he controlled the unfolding situation.
"As you can see—" Galen's words were abruptly interrupted as the very knives Zarex had flung earlier, lying scattered on the ground, abruptly soared through the air, homing in on him with unanticipated ferocity. Galen nimbly evaded two of the three projectiles, but the third found its mark, burying itself deep within his abdomen and inflicting a grievous wound.
"Thank you for the generous handicap, you hapless fool," Zarex sneered, his voice filled with condescension.
Blood bubbled at Galen's lips as he coughed, his body buckling under the pain. "No, thank you for making this encounter far more intriguing. I had assumed we would decimate your ranks with a flawless victory. Very clever to disguise your techniques as an enchanter."
"It is true that I do not wield the enchanting magic one might typically associate with a warrior; rather, I am, in fact, a wind mage." If you have any tricks left, now's the time to use them," Zarex taunted as he summoned a massive gust of wind, directing it at Galen. The force of the gale sent Galen toppling over, his blood smearing the ground as he struggled to regain his footing.
"At least that explains how you manage those damn backflips in heavy armor," Galen quipped, finding humor despite his condition.
"Allow me to offer some advice before I end your pitiful existence," Zarex declared, conjuring a massive gust of wind that sent Galen hurtling through the air.
The earth before Zarex burst open as Galen set an arcane snare, crafted to obliterate Zarex upon impact. As the dust dissipated, Zarex advanced, utterly unharmed, his talisman radiating with intensity, as though murmuring hidden knowledge to him.
"Undoubtedly, you've triumphed in innumerable conflicts, achieved expertise in numerous prominent mage disciplines at a tender age, and wield an impressive intellect," Zarex elaborated, appearing to laud Galen and Thorne for their remarkable achievements.
"Get to your damned point," Galen snapped, irritation evident. He hurled an arcane sphere in a last-ditch effort to deliver a mortal blow to Zarex. In retaliation, Zarex unleashed a gale-force slash that bisected the orb and persisted on its trajectory toward Galen. Unable to evade in time, Galen forfeited an arm to the relentless assault.
"Argh! That really hurt, you fucking bastard!" Galen exclaimed, enraged by his own failure as he grasped the remnant of his severed limb.
"The point is, your own arrogance is your downf—" Zarex's words were cut short as his head dropped to the ground, his body gushing blood before collapsing lifelessly.
Gathering the remnants of his strength, Galen strained to see who had come to his aid. "I swear by the demigods—no, by the transcendents themselves—that if Varence was responsible for this, I will shake his hand before I draw my final breath."
As Galen's gaze focused, he spotted a solitary figure—the mage he'd seen earlier, whom Thorne had seemingly knocked unconscious by driving her face into the ground. Miraculously, her injuries had vanished. Varence, too, appeared unscathed, standing a short distance from her with a hint of a smile gracing his lips. Kander, however, was nowhere to be found.
"What is happening?" Galen briefly pondered before succumbing to darkness as blood loss overtook him.