A vibration rumbled beneath his boots as he watched the mercenary stomp his boot down onto the soil with tremendous force, causing a ripple to stretch through the field.
"Ah–" Bastian reacted, feeling a pressure bubbling beneath the spot he stood.
He quickly stepped to the side as something sharp penetrated through the black soil, piercing upward. It was large enough to have skewered him from his foot to the top of his head: a stone spike. There was relief in having evaded being stricken through the earthen spike, though only briefly as he turned his head, finding the stone-skinned mercenary rushing him.
An unfortunate realization was quickly discovered in the fact that the rocky-fleshed transformation of his pursuer didn't make him any slower, in fact, Claxous seemed even more swift.
"--Hh!" Bastian exhaled through clenched teeth as he ducked beneath a quick slash of the hulking steel.
The greatsword was now being swung around with a single hand, as if the mercenary was trying to boast of his heightened might. Still, the adventurer found that he still held the advantage in agility. The last thing he could allow was a direct hit of that massive sword, keeping his eyes on it as he sidestepped, ducked, and rolled past the violent slashes.
'I can't be afraid of the consequences. Not right now. I've experienced the stakes of facing him directly; I died for a second there–for a moment, but I died nonetheless. Don't be scared to destroy yourself if it means surviving–if it means winning,' he instructed himself.
A thrilling change in perspective; that simple change in thinking felt as though his body was ten pounds lighter, as if everything was flowing together and connecting as he found himself ducking his head under a wild swing before counterattacking without hesitation.
"Levin."
His eyes locked onto the man directly in front of him, his head beneath the burly bicep of the mercenary who was still midway through his swing. He placed himself within striking range with his short dagger, close enough that his breath pressed against the man's stoneskin. This time, he neglected to imbue the throttling electricity into his body, but extended it through the blade instead.
It was a natural adaptation, learning from the failed attack that led to his deathly experience. This time, a look of genuine surprise laid on the one blessed by Gaia as the hooded adventurer struck.
Coiled in surging electricity, the empowered dagger was thrust into the same spot on the mercenary's chest. The tip of the blade neared the stone-changed flesh of the man, though in that small window of opportunity, another layer of earthen material condensed at the targeted area.
'--What?' Bastian reacted.
The dagger managed to pierce through the newly-formed plating of rock, though failed to break the skin beneath.
"Grgh!" Claxous growled, exuding effort for the first time at the last second defense.
Before the brawny swordsman could retaliate, the dagger was plucked from the hide of stone, allowing him to sidestep a downfall of the gargantuan blade.
"So, you can show emotion," Bastian remarked, exhaling as he wiped droplets of sweat from his chin.
There was a subtle look of annoyance on the stoneflesh swordsman's face now as he furrowed his bushy eyebrows and failed to respond, only instead stomping his boot down once more. A tremendous force rippled through the soil, causing it to bounce like waves of water.
The bounciness emitted a ticklish sensation through his legs, making it difficult to balance as he found it seeming as though the rippling soil would sink with any step.
While he focused on not falling over, the stone-skinned man maintained his distance as he plunged his greatsword into the bed of soil beside him before bringing his hands together.
"Enough of your games," Claxous said as a malediction.
Veins pressed against the rocky flesh of the mercenary as he grunted, pushing his palms together with a clap that echoed before pointing both hands forward.
"Huh–?"
Having been watching his own feet as he stumbled over the bouncing dirt, Bastian brought his gaze back up, greeted by the sight of dust that swirled into multiple points around the blessed figure. It didn't take much imagination to figure out what was forming as the sediment spun and condensed into shards of sharpened stone, fixed in the air.
"Pierce," Claxous commanded with a wave of his hand.
The dozens of solid projectiles launched towards the imbalanced adventurer, who could hardly move one foot without falling over. In that singular second afforded to him as he watched the shards near him, he attempted to calculate a way to evade them all, though with the ground shifting beneath his boots, it was clear he had been cornered.
"Ngh!" A grimace left his lips as one of the shards pierced through his right shoulder, digging into it and pushing it back with surprising force behind its momentum.
The speed at which the projectile rammed into his shoulder caused it to dislodge itself from its socket with an audible "pop." It was an unpleasant sensation, feeling his separated bones grinding, though it helped to dull the pain of the stone that bit through his flesh.
"Hhf–shit!" He sharply exhaled through his teeth, not allowed to wince at his pain as he forced himself to dodge.
It was a disgraceful lunge to the side, tripping over the rippling soil, though it allowed him to escape the projectiles that hunted him. Even if he managed to evade the fast-moving shards, more were being created by swirls of sediment around the mercenary, who maintained himself to the same spot.
An idea popped into the adventurer's head as he quickly tugged his hood over his head, pulling the attached cowl down. It was an item he seldom wanted to rely on, as the sickening sensation it incurred came quickly.
"What–?" Claxous reacted in quiet surprise as the man vanished from sight.
The incoming projectiles completely missed their target, allowing Bastian to slip by and circle around the unaware swordsman. It wasn't a perfect gambit; it wouldn't last long, he knew that.
He managed to bring himself clear of the path of the earthen shards, reaching into his belt just as the rock-skinned figure began to turn towards his direction. It wasn't sight nor sound that made his location precisely known–he knew that much.
The acute sixth sense through the blackened soil, the vibrations of his footsteps, were all the sight that the mercenary needed to find the invisible adventurer.
Still, Bastian expected this, needing only enough time to retrieve an object from his belt: a dazzling, bright-red gemstone. He flipped his cowl off, keeping his eyes on the stoneflesh man, who began conjuring shards in his direction.
Able to inhale and exhale once more, he pushed the pivotal word out of his mouth, "--Levin!"
He was already in the motion of swinging his arm, allowing the heightening limbs of electricity to infuse into the jewel as he threw it towards the figure. Any movement he made only made the pain in his shoulder spike again, forcing him to yank the shard out as blood spilled into the air, "Argh–!"
"--Mm?" Claxous witnessed the cracking gemstone hurling in his direction.
A radiance of crimson lights scattered around the bleak, enclosed field of the tower's floor before the object burst, giving way to a volatile howl of flames directly against the hardened mercenary. Chaotic and mighty was the blaze, casting a sharp gale outward that nearly knocked the adventurer off his feet. Embers fluttered in the air as the fire, with the fire being cast away and replaced by billowing smoke.
As he kept his eyes on the cloud of blackened smoke, he felt a dull ache echo through his bones before numbness set upon his arm.
'I'm well past my limits already, I think. At this point, I have to do everything I can to win–I know that wasn't enough,' he thought.
Awaiting the state of his opposition, he reached over to his bloodied shoulder as he gripped it tightly with his fingers before yanking it. An audible "pop" sounded out again as he winced, returning it to its proper socket.
Before the plume of ashen smog could fade, the soil rumbled once more beneath the feet of the hooded adventurer, who immediately jumped back. The dirt was split, being pushed up as a violent eruption of spikes arose.
He couldn't help but imagine if he hadn't preemptively moved, though that outcome was too gruesome a thought. That imagination could become a reality soon enough if he dropped his guard for a moment; piercing monuments of stone continued to jab upward at every spot his boots befell.
The smoke swayed, pushed away by the wind lured by huffs of steam as the focused man of stone remained standing with a displeased expression. It appeared the fiery devastation of the gemstone was enough to move the rocky mercenary, as steam oozed off his body and his stone skin peeled in small sections, like peeled back paper.
"Only the weak rely on such gimmicks. You lack true strength," the stern voice of Claxous emitted.
'He really did survive that. Man, what a monster. I'm not surprised, though,' he thought.
In truth, he was feeling triumphant about the fact that the charged gemstone actually was effective against the brute. It felt as though the top of a colossal wall was now visible; the man blessed by Gaia could be hurt, even if he was without a Blessing of his own.
'Let's do this—I'll beat you, me, the weakling without a Blessing,' he resolved.
There was only so much space within the stretch of black soil, only so much that was away from the bursts of steam that spewed from beneath the dirt.
Claxous exhaled a breath that resembled burning smoke; the sable irises of his lost their shape, jagging out like a crystalline formation. It sounded like stones being scraped and banged together; over the man's body, a coating of morphing rocks fully encased him.
Beneath his breath, the adventurer murmured, "That doesn't look good."
The evolution his opponent underwent afforded him time to prepare himself as he took to a knee for a moment, rummaging his hands through his belt. There were many accessories he brought, though most of which were useless in a fight with the rock-skinned swordsman. Unfortunately, he never fully readied himself for battle before setting out for the Tower, as it was the one thing he avoided, if possible.
While sorting through his pockets to find something useful, he felt the shape and hardness of what felt like a gemstone in one of his pouches. As he pulled it out, he found it to be a spherical, cerulean gem. Seeing it brought upon a thought in his mind as he glanced over to the clouds of burning steam to his right.
'...That may just work. Unlikely, but it might be my best chance at pulling this off,' he thought to himself.