[Hey, what’s happening? How’s your day been?]
No response.
[Look, I don’t want to accuse anyone of being rude, manners are important on both sides of an interaction, but do you have any idea how hard it is to push a mind bridge through that helmet? The least you could do is say hello.]
My opponent, a centurion, judging by the look of his armour, does not respond, only raises his shield and blade, preparing to charge. After dealing with eighth and ninth sword members of the Folk schools, I don’t want to say defeating individual soldiers from the Legion is easy, but it’s certainly not as hard as what I was doing before.
The centurion erupts with energy and launches himself forward. To be honest, the speed is impressive, but it’s very linear, and I’m a difficult opponent to surprise.
Turning on the spot, I rotate my body and smack my mandible into the charging soldier like a bat. There’s a crunch, followed by a large thud as my opponent crashes into the barrier on the outside of the arena.
Home run!
[Nice attempt! Good speed, but you might want to work on your micro dashes. Puts a lot of strain on the body, but changing your angle of approach a few times instead of just charging straight in will help you in the long run.]
I don’t get a reply, not that I was expecting one. I’ve fought five members of the Abyssal Legion so far, and although I managed to connect a bridge to each of them, not one has said a single word, no matter how much I natter at them.
The first four were rank and file, the last was the first officer I’ve fought. Honestly, I can give them some credit for being tougher than I expected them to be. Their armour is hard as nails, and each one of them is a disciplined fighter with polished skills. I get the feeling that, unlike the Folk, who train extensively to fight one-on-one in the arenas and fighting pits, the Legion trains to fight monsters in groups, as they should. If that centurion had executed the exact same charge along with a squad, it would have been much harder to deal with; batting one of them away would leave me open to the rest of them, leading to much stabbage.
The atmosphere in the stadium is a bit… tense, I suppose is the word. The Folk are having a grand old time, and many swordsmen and women have lined up to challenge once again. However, filling up one end of the arena is a contingent of Legionaries in full armour, staring down at me in a somewhat unfriendly manner.
Alright, a decidedly unfriendly manner.
I’m not completely ignorant as to what they’re up to. Obviously, they want to suss out my strengths and weaknesses here in this safe environment, maybe even lure me into underestimating them by having me beat up on the rank and file. As if. I don’t imagine the Legion is so flush with resources they’d waste time on a trip like this. If this is the group they sent, then they’re confident they can get the job done.
The author’s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Surely, Morrelia is going to take the hint and get down here at some point. No way she hasn’t figured out what I’m after.
Sadly, she doesn’t appear, and I continue to beat down on Folk and Legion alike while Eran Thouris continues to wheel and deal in the stands. I start to get bored of the whole thing, and am frankly disappointed that she would avoid me like this… until.
There’s a stir among the Legion crowd as an officer steps out into the pit. Helmet on, twin swords sheathed at the hips and a decidedly red tinge to the heavy armour they’re wearing.
This is obviously someone higher ranked, judging by the elaborate insignia engraved on the chest plate, along with the larger, more mana-dense armour. Could be her… but I better check before I make any assumptions.
As my next opponent strides out into the arena, I prepare the mind mana I’m going to need, spinning up my minds and weaving together the magic. Battering through the protections the Legion seems to build into their gear is like smashing through a wall with my brain. Not fun. I’ll get through, but the process isn’t what I would call enjoyable in the slightest.
I need to take my own position for these duels, so I skitter over, making sure I don’t have a leg too far forward as the legionary opposite draws those twin blades, each of them glowing an ominous red.
Surely…
“Begin!”
As soon as the adjudicator — not Grey today, he’s off arguing with his brother or something — gives the signal, I push forward my mind magic, slamming into the barrier head on. Whatever is woven into the helmet, it’s tough stuff, and I fail to break through on the first attempt. I kind of expected it, what worked for the regular soldiers won’t work on the higher ups, and I’m prepared to go as many times as it takes.
However, my opponent doesn’t seem like they’re willing to give me that opportunity. The instant the match starts, the swords, along with the armour, begin smoking, emitting a red haze that twists and warps the air. Before I can even wonder what the heck is going on, both blades slash out and my antennae start screaming at me.
Dodge!
I leap to the side, narrowly avoiding the twin arcs of sword light. Yikes! What the heck was that?! There was something weird about those strikes, I haven’t seen anything like them from the Folk so far. The feeling I get from this fighter reminds me of nothing so much as Sarah when she’s lost in her rage. Morrelia is a berserker, there’s no way this isn’t her.
I smash forward with the mind magic again as I clack my mandibles. She’s trying to make this look like a genuine fight, which is sensible, I’ll need to do the same.
More mind constructs spin into action as I whip together elemental mana, ready to unleash a barrage of fire and water bolts. This’ll look awesome….
DODGE!
Streaking through the air like a sizzling rage-demon, my opponent zig-zags, alternating dashes left and right before homing in on me like a comet. Blades flash, red light screams, and I am outta there.
Unable to roll in time, I jump!
Many tons of magnificent ant leap directly upwards, majestically soaring into the air. My opponent doesn’t hesitate, crouches low, and leaps up after me, blades glowing, ready for the next strike!
Holy moly!
Forced into a corner, I react unconventionally, spinning my body in the air with force magic and whipping around my legs. I catch the soldier on the rise, smacking them across and into the barrier, but not very hard. The move gives me enough time to land and reorient myself, which is nice.
Yikes! If this is Morrelia, she’s really taking this a little too seriously!
Then I feel a stinging pain coming from my leg and look down to realise she took about thirty centimetres off the end of it! When the heck did she manage that?!
A bit irritated now, I focus my minds and push out a staggering amount of mind magic, overwhelming the defences embedded in the armour and finally connecting the mind bridge.
[Oi! What the heck was that?! I know that’s you in there, Morrelia!]
All I get back is white hot rage and one thought.
[]
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