When weighed against Grey, unarmed and far smaller, dressed in a humble robe with his claws unsheathed, it didn’t look favourable for him.
Then it began, and Sloan could have sworn she’d missed it. One moment, the two were still as statues, the next, they’d shifted. It was as if they vanished from where they stood and reappeared in another place, dispensing with the hassle of traversing the intervening distance.
So fast!
The two of them flickered across the tunnel until finally they clashed. The poor eyes of the ant general caught the impact a second after it happened. The golgari had rushed forward, great blade descending in an overhead chop. The energy infused in the blade was so great it felt to Sloan as if a thousand tons of rock was descending on Grey at the speed of a lightning bolt. Inescapable.
Unfazed by the danger, Grey had swung both hands from right to left, his claws blazing with light that extended outward and clashed with the blade, diverting it to the side.
The stone shattered under the force of the impact, shards flying as several tons of rock disintegrated. With his opponent unbalanced, Grey lashed out with his claws, once, twice, thrice, almost too fast to see before he danced back out of reach, both hands extended.
The noble golgari took his time righting himself as he gripped the hilt of his sword in one hand, using the other to brush dust and stone from his skin. Whatever material he was coated in, it was clearly tough as nails, not a scratch could be seen on him.
The two exchanged a few words before they once again took a ready stance, giving the ants a chance to process what they’d seen.
“What the hell was that?” Sloan gasped.
“Did you see the Mana packed in that sword!” Coolant was shocked. “That was insane! How does it hold that much?”
“Did you see the speed?”
“The power…”
It was clear then to the two council members, that outside of the eldest and possibly the Queen herself, there were none who could hope to stand against individuals as powerful as these two.
Indeed, no matter how many tier three ants they were to throw at the two combatants before them, would it really matter? In the face of this kind of condensed might, only an individual of equal strength would suffice.
Unless they could cultivate warriors of comparable ability themselves, the casualties they would suffer to bring down these exceptional individuals would be obscene. And who knew? Were creatures such as these two even that rare in the depths?
144. The Siege, Part 22
Grey and his opponent, the High Blade Kooranon Balta, studied each other. Their experience and observation Skills provided a constant stream of information as they continued to feel each other out.
Using his rank seven Master Keen Eye, Grey could see every muscle twitch, every exhalation of breath in excruciating detail. The golgari wouldn’t be able to twitch a toe without the wolf-Folk being able to tell him how many millimetres he’d shifted it. Not just sight, every sense was pushed to the limit of his abilities. Even his natural advantages as one of the Folk were on high alert, ensuring nothing took place outside of his notice.
Experience was what allowed that information to filter, to disregard that which wasn’t important. He could smell the ant pheromones that blanketed this tunnel, smell the blood and ichor of those that had fallen beyond the gate before him. He ignored those, all that mattered was the battle.
He centred himself, as the great warriors of the Folk were trained to do, and balanced his mind against his instinct to find the proper equilibrium. Almost reflexively, so ingrained was the technique, Grey began to circulate the Mana inside his body around his centre, creating a flow that empowered his movements and hastened the absorption of energy throughout his body.
It had been so long since he’d fought in a high-Level duel such as this. The old familiar feeling stirred in his veins, the impression of being on the hunt. The wolf within him had begun to bare its fangs and he allowed the sensation to wash over him, acknowledging its presence, neither embracing nor dismissing it. Equilibrium was his safe harbour.
The High Blade mastered his breathing and exerted his aura. Powerful and domineering, it swept through the air and attempted to crush the wolf-kin, intimidating and robbing him of strength. As before, he did not resist it, but instead let it pass through him. Such childish tricks were a waste of precious energy in a duel and would have no effect on him. The fact the High Blade insisted on attempting it displayed a lack of experience.
“You will yield to me, beast,” Balta said, confidence dripping from his large frame. “How many of your kind have fallen to my blade already? You are just another notch, and you don’t even know it.”
Anger flared in Grey’s heart. The war between the new and old races of Pangera never really ended. Conflict between the Empire of Stone and the Folk continued to this day. There was a chance that Balta had slain his people in the depths, it was true, but most likely, it was just a taunt. He allowed the anger to sputter out. This was not the time for anger.
“You are a pup,” Grey said calmly. “Whining and snuffling in the dirt, waiting for the alpha to teach you the ways of the world. What are you waiting for? I’m right here.”
The golgari’s stone-covered face twisted with rage and he lunged, the rock beneath his feet shifting with the force of his Dash. In a battle of this level, there wasn’t time to think or ponder, no consideration for the next move. It was a realm of highly trained reflexes so fast and automatic that an argument could be made the brain wasn’t involved at all. Grey threw himself into the battle, refusing to direct or control his body to strike. He didn’t need to. It would strike all by itself. He and his instinct were one and the same.
He Dashed with his right foot only, rotating his body as his left activated Meteor Slash. Stamina and Mana drained out of him through his claws as the Skill activated and manifested in the air. Enhanced by the rotation of his body, five jagged cuts streaked through the air at a speed faster than even his eyes could follow. As predicted, Balta charged directly forward, relying on his toughened body to absorb whatever Grey could unleash. Yet again, he’d been underestimated. With a loud crunch, the slash impacted the golgari’s side and threw off his balance enough that the destructive overhead strike flew past its target by centimetres.
Breathe. Then flow. The wild joy in his heart surged and Grey allowed his lips to peel back in a savage snarl, baring his fangs. His body continued its rotation, completing the full spin in an instant, whereupon he slammed both feet down and charged. Mana swirled in the air and within his body as his hands fell inward to rest at his hips. Dash. DASH. DASH. Three times in less than a second, he executed a perfect micro-Dash, bringing his speed up to a dizzying height as his hands concentrated stamina and Mana. Unleashing his named Skill, he thrust both hands forward, palms up and claws extended.
Pierce the Wall!
The light from each claw unified in a single fang that shot outward and dug into the side of the noble.
The golgari wasn’t without his own Skills. Unable to bring his blade to bear, he activated his own Dash to take momentum from the strike as golden streaks of metal on his skin slithered together toward the point of impact. Just before the moment of impact, Grey noticed the telltale shimmer of a shield around the frame of the noble, then his Skill landed and blew the body of the golgari away.