Oz glared at him, hand back to her sword. She would make him regret saying that. Even with the snow and cold making her sluggish she was still a hunter!
The pair stalked the other, Nahern casual and watching each step. He easily blocked her attack from the left, dodged her right. Even leaping up, he easily kicked her aside. Oz groaned but came at him again and again. She didn't stop until her shoulders burned but not once did she get a single hit on the elf.
Nahern wouldn't admit that he was impressed. She was quick and agile, but she was also reckless. She attacked without thinking, and that would be her downfall. He waited for her to make a mistake, she was too sloppy, too easy to read. She might as well be just announcing where she was planning to strike. He sidestepped her attack and brought his sword down on her arm. She cried out in pain and dropped her sword. Nahern kicked it away and then turned to face her.
"You're not ready to even fight in a low dungeon," he said. "How did you survive this long?."
Oz nodded, her face pale. "I'm not that bad."
"You are, you are strong, dear saint. Strong, quick, and agile, but brute strength isn't enough. You need to follow through." Nahern said.
"Pick your sword back up. Again. Keep your grip on the hilt loose, only tighten at the last moment. Reserve your energy for the blow."
She grabbed her sword and rebalanced herself, the snow around them was flat and packed down after all their running. She frowned, this time trying a high attack. Her fingers tightened at the last minute, easing more of her strength in. The tip of the short sword actually brushed the edge of his cloak before he dodged.
"Much better," Nahern chuckled, "You're starting to get the hang of it. Now, try a low attack."
She nodded and swung her sword low, aiming for his legs. He jumped back just in time, but the tip of her blade still grazed his heavily wrapped calves. He kicked the blade away but smiled.
"Good try," he said. "But you need to be faster. And you need to learn to control your breathing. If you hold your breath, you'll lose your focus."
She took a deep breath and tried again. This time she just barely got within the strike point before his sword sent hers flying into the snow.
"That's it!" he said. "You're getting there. Just keep practicing."
Oz groaned, crouching down to regain her breath. She was sweating like a pig now, gasping each labored breath.
"What the hell." She spit out a mouthful of salty spittal into the snow.
Only now did she ever think to inspect a person. A small warmth grew in her gemstone eye as the dialog box appeared over Nahern.
[The Forsaken Prince : Nahern Everthorn | Lv 80 | Spellsword ]
Oz's eyes bugged in complete shock, level eighty? Nahern was level EIGHTY? She was only level ten, no wonder she was struggling. Oz wracked her brain to try and remember who was the strongest hunter in the guild system. She remembered faintly of a warrior who was level forty after a lifetime of working at his level. The idea made her empty stomach flip in worry.
No wonder Chairman Orion was so scared the other day, if he sensed how strong Nahern was. Nahern was easily twice over then the strongest hunter known. He could crush entire guilds if he wanted to.
She gasped at the thought, a cold terror deep in her stomach. She stumbled and fell back into the snow, having to take shaky breaths to calm down the panic. Eighty, she couldn't get it out of her mind.
Nahern stopped his attack, sliding easily to a stop. He knelt down and cursed. After stabbing the snow with his blade, his fingers flew over the cloak, quickly untying the laces around her throat.
"You can't sweat, Saint. It will freeze your skin and make you snow-sick. You are already a fur-berry, you just might pop." He hissed, opening the cloak entirely so the cool air chilled her flushed skin. Oz couldn't stop her teeth from chattering, thankful he so broad shouldered it kept most of the wind off her. His hands almost felt warm on her chilled cheeks.
"How the hell are you so strong?" She finally gasped out.
Nahern tightened his jaw before scooping her up and out of the snow. "Come you are getting far too chilled. Back to the fire for you, Saint."
The prince lifted her like she weighed practically nothing, cradling her with just one arm as he pulled their swords from the snow. He started walking back to the camp but from the trees two scouts appeared out of nowhere.
One scout bowed low, Oz faintly remembered him from the raid the day before.
"Forgive me Prince Nahern, but we have important news. A new dungeon has spawned on the Ice Flats."
"Unclaimed?"
"Untouched, sire." The scout stood up, adjusting the quiver on his hip. "What will you have us do? It is a day's march but it is within our territory. "
Oz adjusted in his arm, "We should take the chance to claim it before your enemies do."
Nahern's eyes went dark for a moment, clearly in thought. After a tense moment he nodded, "Gather supplies and those strong enough for a day's march, hopefully my sister will be back soon. If not, she will have to join us later. First you need to get warmed up Saint. Then I have to see your skills in an actual fight."
Nahern pulled Oz closer, shielding her with his cloak as he followed the scouts back to camp. Oz gave a modest huff. Her face burned as she shamelessly leaned closer into his warm body. Wintergreen and that clean, refreshing scent clung to his very skin. Sending a tingle through her numbed body.