His training had been different. It needed to be because of what was expected of him. Exceptional... that's what he was supposed to be, and so everything was covered in minute detail. From mantras to offensive magic, evasion to spycraft, channelling energy and healing to killing in the sky. It was all there and about as comprehensive as it could be. Right now, he was grateful that it had been.
Brushing Richie's shoulder gently, so as not to distract her too much, he leaned in close so that he didn't have to shout over the cacophony of magic that was exploding in and around them.
"What about a small gap? Could you open up one of those?" he ventured, an appealing look smothered across his face.
"How big would it have to be?"
"I don't know. What do you think you can safely do?"
Dividing her focus between maintaining the shield and Flash's question, her mind raced with figures and equations, working out where best she could form a hole and just how big she could make it without letting too much of the magic currently bombarding them from the outside, in.
"Maybe the size of a football at best, but it'll be sketchy. As well, I won't be able to hold it long, especially if our friends out there spot it."
"I understand," replied Flash. "Can we get on and do it?"
Turning to face her friend, whilst holding the laminium dagger firmly out in front of her, the tiniest of smiles weaved its way through the freckles of her pale skinned face.
"I have to ask... how in the hell do you think...?"
Holding up his hand, Flash cut her off there.
"Trust me... you really don't want to know!"
Brushing himself off, whilst at the same time harmlessly deflecting away a couple of stray bolts of magic heading directly for him, the monster that was Manson blew out a long breath as he assessed his force's situation, all the time twisting the dragon king's ring around his finger. For the life of him he couldn't work out why he didn't have access to the power it held. If he'd had control over it by now, something that he'd planned for, all this would be well and truly over. But he didn't, and it wasn't, and that in itself was odd. From everything he knew, all the research he'd done, he should have at least felt its presence. But there was nothing, no trace of magic, no inkling that any intelligence either existed now or at some point in the past. Pushing all thoughts of this aside, he returned to the moment and a few of the other conundrums.
It had all been going so well only a short time ago. And now this! Fate, he knew, could be a fickle mistress, but sometimes she just downright sucked. Now was one of those times, and the more he thought about everything he could see all around him, the more puzzled he became. The reinforcements arriving through that strange magical portal that almost certainly had the stench of naga power written all over it. Clearly those slithering serpents hadn't offered up all their magic. They'd pay dearly for that at some later date.
Brilliant bright intensity of shocking blue electricity bouncing up off the huge defensive shield hiding the vast majority of his enemies caught his eye from across the way. Glancing over, his mind veered off in another direction. Her! How in the hell was she here, and doing all of this? As far as he knew, she'd been stripped of all her dragon powers and her memories. And yet here she was, a spanner in the works of everything he was trying to achieve. Alright, she'd killed his father, the one being on this planet he'd hated the most, and he supposed he should have been grateful in some sick sort of way. But he wasn't. It should have been him, and it should have happened a long time ago. But when it came to his father, he'd always found it all but impossible to stand up to him. Something inside him, gut wrenching and twisted, had always prevented him from being strong, being counted... saying his piece. For decades he'd had dreams about killing the infamous Troydenn. He'd take his time, string it out and let him suffer for months. NO! Years! Torture him until he begged for mercy, only then putting him out of his misery. But now any hope of that had gone. A quick glimpse over to his left at the humungous, matt black corpse that lay splayed out on the pristine, white marble soothed his aching gut. Pleasure and pain tugged on opposite ends of his heart strings, if such things even existed inside him. Pleasure because he was finally free, pain because the foul psychopath of a beast that had called himself his father hadn't died by his hand.
Turning back to events across the way, the tiniest part of him, hidden deep inside, marvelled at the young female powering the magnificent shield. In very different circumstances they could have been friends... she could have been his queen. As soon as the idea nestled into his head, he dismissed it immediately. That would never have happened because he'd seen her defiance up close and personal, and there was simply no way at all that they'd have had anything to do with each other. Pondering the best way to deal with the 'Rump' girl and all those cowering behind her protection, he sought to get an overview of everything that was going on. Off to his far left, dark dragons and nagas under his command bombarded a circling group of what remained of the forces he'd found here. No doubt it was a stray contingent of King's Guard from the council building putting up a valiant last stand. Instantly he dismissed them as no threat. They wouldn't last much longer against his unstoppable legion.
Over to his right, something much more interesting caught his eye: three beings he was more than a little familiar with... all of whom he had some history with... the king of this godforsaken realm, the one he'd already broken, the one he'd intended to make suffer for many, many months to come. George, as he'd once been known, a brave and courageous knight centuries ago, according to his father. What he was doing away from the shield, deflecting and defending the other two, was anybody's guess. And that brought him of course to them. Prisoners from Antarctica, both of whom he'd overseen personally, both of whom he'd hoped would die in the prison he'd been confined to when growing up. How they'd escaped was an utter mystery. Worse still... he hadn't heard anything at all from Joshim, the jailer that he held accountable, the one he'd left in charge of the trap he'd set, just in case anyone was stupid enough to try and mount a rescue attempt. What it all meant, he had no idea. Vasuki, the naga king, was supposed to have been taken care of by now. His appearance could upset the plans he'd set in motion with the rest of his race. It was a good job they'd been magically enthralled. If not, their king might have taken half of his force away from him. As it stood, that really wasn't going to happen. And the other one, why on earth was he just kneeling there, in the middle of all the chaos, the other two protecting him? It didn't make any sense. Had he been injured? It didn't look like it. Then what? Something didn't add up. He didn't know what, but there was something missing from the information he had at his disposal. And that made him nervous. Without all the facts, acts and events became harder to predict. Wildcard elements came into play, as they'd already done over the course of the last hour. It was time to put a stop to all of that. No random fluke was going to prevent him from ruling this world, putting his stamp on the planet that had, for the best part of his life, turned its back on him. Now was the time to act. And act he did. Holding his arms aloft, he closed his eyes and let out the loudest telepathic shout out of his life, encouraging, no... ordering his dark, demonic troops on the council building side of the bridge and the bridge itself, to swarm on over and finish off the puny pocket of resistance remaining. Satisfied that he'd ignited the fuse that would lead to the conclusion of events, the tiniest smile snaked across his chiselled jaw.
Shrouded in long forgotten, ancient magic, the deranged being known as Earth, Fredric's daughter and Peter's mother, skulked in and out of rubble, using both debris and magical explosions for cover, getting closer all the time to her main objective. Stifling the laughter building up inside her so as not to give her position away, it amused her greatly to see the dragon that had once been her father reduced to this. Assuming he still thought of her as his daughter, even after her memories had come flooding back, she still couldn't come to regard him as ever having been her father. To see him on his knees now, a supposed mighty warrior reduced to this, bought her tremendous joy. It was all she could have wished for in the middle of this almighty battle. But it still wasn't enough, and that, she was about to put right.