Lianshi laughed in delighted surprise at Dameon’s language and then covered her mouth, abashed.
“Regardless, this isn’t about winning but having fun,” said Dameon. “Well, fun and winning. I want to see how everyone operates. And I want to see what you bring to the table, Scorio.” Dameon placed a hand on Scorio’s shoulder. “I’m not saying I expect the world from you, but you did help stop an Imperator, right? This should be a piece of cake.”
“Great,” said Scorio. “Never thought I’d regret helping Sol save the city.”
Dameon gave his shoulder a shake and released him. “Just focus on helping Leonis hold the line. Though from what I’ve seen of Nezzar, that should be no trouble.”
“Leave it to us,” said Leonis. “We’ll stop Jova and Juniper in their tracks.”
“I know you will. Any last thoughts? No? Good. All plans fall apart the moment the fight begins, anyway. Just be ready to react and listen for any commands I shout out. I’ll be at the back with Zala and have a good sense of what’s happening.”
Everyone nodded eagerly and Scorio found himself practically bouncing on the balls of his feet as they moved back to the center of the church.
“Some basic rules,” Dameon said as the other team moved to join them. “Dread Blazes and Tomb Sparks, no Shrouds. Let’s keep this game fast-moving and fair. I’m expecting everyone to be able to pull their punches so nobody gets seriously hurt. Davelos, no whining about Coal when you lose.”
The other Dread Blaze gazed sourly at Dameon.
“Let’s sketch circles on opposite sides of the church. Everyone starts behind their circle. I’ll count to three, and then the fun shall commence.”
“Fun,” muttered Simeon, rubbing his earlobe. “Dameon, you are disturbed. This is going to be violent, bloody, and prove what, exactly?”
Dameon winked at the other Dread Blaze. “That Manticore knows how to have a good time? Relax. We haven’t done group training in far too long.”
“That’s because we’re rarely together as a group,” said Davelos. “Because somebody keeps sending us across the whole Plains—”
“Great.” Dameon beamed at everyone. “Teams, to your sides.”
Everyone retreated to the opposite ends of the huge square chamber. Scorio drew Coal mana into his Heart, saturating it even as every speck was inhaled by the others. There’d be no refills in this contest. He windmilled his arms, bounced up and down on the balls of his feet, and moved to stand beside Leonis.
“Hey, Scorio,” murmured his friend. “Why’s Jova been glaring at you all this time?”
“She has?” Scorio attempted an innocent tone. “Oh, I don’t know.”
Leonis leveled a deadpan stare at him.
Scorio flushed. “I may… I mean, it’s entirely possible that we got into an argument on the way over here.”
“About?”
“Ready?” Dameon’s voice cut over the excited chatter. “One.”
Scorio resisted the urge to Ignite his Heart. In this contest, he’d be at a severe disadvantage compared to everyone else. He had to be conservative.
“Well, I’ll do my best to run interference,” muttered Leonis. “I haven’t seen her that intense since the Academy.”
“Two.”
“Much appreciated. I’ll try to nullify her fear aura by hitting her with mine first.”
“You’re too kind.”
“Three!” Dameon’s cry was positively ebullient. “Have at it!”
Chapter 25
Scorio loped forward, Leonis by his side.
Strands of caramel hair speared past him, affixing themselves to the walls, the domed roof overhead, the floor.
Nezzar appeared in Leonis’s fist, glowing and fell, wielded as lightly as a baton but easily a yard long, brutally edged, and made of solid stone.
Across from them Jova and Juniper raced forward, expressions intent.
Davelos stood before their circle, arms crossed, shifting up into a form that was jet black and roughly edged, Coal infused and ponderously powerful.
Naomi slipped into her Nightmare Lady form and raced out wide, scampering on all fours, tail lashing behind her as she ran.
For all of about two seconds, their plan played out as expected.
Then Simeon appeared alongside Leonis, his saturnine face carved by a wicked smile. Leonis sought to react but the Dread Blaze reached out to tap him on the shoulder.
Scorio reacted instantly; he Ignited his Heart and leaped at Simeon, but the man had appeared on Leonis’s far side.
Who roared in surprise and swung Nezzar even as Simeon’s body and face flowed to match Leonis’s own. For the briefest second, they were perfectly mirrored and then the second Leonis stepped into the first.
Scorio was looping around his friend when the sole remaining Leonis whirled about, Nezzar raised high, and brought his club smashing down on Scorio’s brow.
Scorio twisted about, desperate, and fell to his back, both claws catching Nezzar’s head and stopping it from clubbing him in the face. Leonis leaned over the weapon, bringing his full weight to bear.
Scorio snarled, the muscles beneath his scales bunching as he strained to keep Nezzar’s blunt edge from caving in his skull, then he whipped to one side, flung the club wide, and kicked Leonis’s legs out from under him.
Or tried. It was like kicking a tree.
Leonis was wickedly fast; he recovered, stepped back, hammered Nezzar down once, twice, forcing Scorio to roll frantically to the side.
Fierce impatience. Scorio hit Leonis with his Tomb Spark aura, willing the man to just back the hell off, but Leonis laughed, shielded by Simeon’s superior power, and came after him.
Only for Dameon to glide step into view and roundhouse a punch directly into the big man’s sternum.
The impact was tremendous. Leonis lifted up off the ground, releasing Nezzar and flying back, shedding Simeon as he went, the Dread Blaze tumbling to the ground and coming up on his feet with a laugh as Leonis crashed to the ground and rolled to fetch up against the church wall.
Scorio got his feet under himself and went to launch himself at Simeon only for a punch to come at him from the side—Juniper. He recoiled, throwing up an arm to block, her fists pounding ineffectually against his scaled forearm. But the impact left a plate-sized spatter of burning gold hanging permanently in his vision; Scorio leaped back before she could throw a second punch, then Jova dove through the burning gold to tackle him around the waist.
Scorio reacted on reflex. He grabbed hold of her by the waist as he fell and arched his back, wrenching her up and around to slam her as hard as he could into the flagstones.
He knew she could take it.
Jova’s torso fell across his own, her hips crunching into the ground, legs kicking out wide, and then she twisted in his grip, becoming soft and yielding as her flesh sloughed to reveal entire rows of teeth hidden under her skin.
“Hell no!” shouted Scorio, rolling away and coming up just in time to take a kick across the jaw.
Or an attempt at one. Reflex caused him to raise a hand and catch the toe of Juniper’s foot cold in the base of his palm, then he surged through the new explosion of gold light to punch her in the stomach, his horned knuckles burying deep.
Juniper gasped and staggered back, then something hit Scorio in the small of his back with all the force of a swung log. Scorio gasped, fell to one knee, yanked on Juniper’s foot so that she fell then twisted about to fend off Jova’s second kick.
Juniper’s suspended golden flashes made it hard to make out the trajectory of Jova’s kick. He blocked clumsily. She skipped up to her feet then dove straight at him, smashing her brow into the bridge of his nose with complete disregard for her safety.
Scorio’s head snapped back, Juniper’s golden flares rocking up with his line of sight, and he hit Jova with the overwhelming command to drop to the ground.