Novels2Search

Chapter 35 A Cracked Mask

The braces under my sleeves strained under the second blow of my opponent's attack. I did my best to mitigate the damage by deflecting his axe downward, but taking too many blows like that would take a toll on the braces. I had little choice in dealing with the impact. I'd left my spear at the arena in a moment of negligence, and taking a blow with the leather guards on my arms guaranteed the loss of an appendage.

His second blow deflected; the Killer shifted his hands on the handle of his axe to bring it up in a brutal swing across my body. Wanting to avoid another direct clash, I leaned away from the attack, barely avoiding significant damage to my body.

Now directly underneath his arms, I caught a hint of something I recognized but couldn't pin down. If he'd chosen to continue his assault, my unbalanced position combined with my momentary distraction, would have given him the advantage, but instead, he opened his mouth to speak.

"One time is luck. Evading death by me twice is a coincidence. Three times? Now that be a pattern." My opponent spoke up about his failed attempts to make it past me to The Hero. "Who are you, mister demon mask?" He continued, his tone both mocking and humorous. "My intel didn't say nothing bout some black crusader." He stepped back as if to say he'd give me the chance to answer.

Without any mana, I couldn't create a message to answer, not that I intended to. Both that and handsign would leave me more open than I wished. Instead, I took the chance to take in the appearance of my opponent thoroughly.

He was a caucasian man of average height with broad shoulders, giving him an imposing physique. His dark brown hair was currently done in a loose braid ending slightly beneath his shoulders. He had a square jaw, a clean-shaven chin, thin lips, a snub nose, round eyes, and a high brow. His clothes were a mix of browns and blacks consisting primarily of furs and fleece, an odd choice with it being summer. The strange double point of his ears and some discolored patches on his skin told me he wasn't as human as he appeared; he was a Warren.

Even with everything else combined, the most intriguing part about my opponent was his weapon—a handle about 3 feet in length with an axe head on one end. The blade extended away from one side of the handle, ending in an inversely curved blade with a point jutting outward at the top. Opposite the edge saw a long curved spike with a sharp point like that of a freshly sharped pic—a headhunting axe.

"Aint gonna answer, mister flame cloak?" The Warren bellowed while readying his weapon. "No matter. You'll either talk or die, whatever comes first." He rushed me almost as soon as his tongue was back entirely inside his mouth.

I could tell that The Hero behind me hadn't fully recovered from her dive. But Scales was working on getting her from the fountain to the edge of the area and hopefully out of the fire cage. With her still in danger, I couldn't move to deal with The Warren properly.

Having cleared the distance between us rapidly, The Warrens axe head came flying from my lower left up towards my armpit. I crouched down, lowering my boy so that his blad was now on track with my shoulder. With a swift motion, I slammed my right palm into the side of the blade, deflecting it up over my head.

The strength of his hold must have been greater than I anticipated as I only barely managed to avoid taking a devastating blow. This point was proven by his swing ripping a large chunk of my hood away, accelerating the now rapid destruction of my coat via the flames at its fringes.

"Man, you are one strange little shit. Never seen no one cover up more than me." The Warren said while forcefully stopping the upward momentum of his blade.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

He was likely referring to the now exposed helmet I wore under my hood, not that I had the time to care. He'd quickly brought the spike on his axe down toward my skull, attempting to skewer me from above.

I didn't enjoy letting him remain on the offensive, so I leaped into his chest as the spike came down towards me. Checking my shoulder into him with enough force to fling him away from me.

AS I collided with him, I caught the same hint of something familiar, but as my blow sent him away from me, I failed to identify it once again.

"Well, I'll give you that; you pack a punch for someone so small." My opponent said while rubbing the section of his chest I'd hit.

I could tell that, behind me, Scales had managed to get The Hero to the edge of our flaming enclosure. Not that I knew how he'd convinced her to flee. Regardless, I thanked him for putting distance between her and the fight, as it gave me a small bit more freedom in how I could move.

Unfortunately, The Warren seemed to take notice of her location just as much as I had. "YOUT AINT GETTING PAST THEM FLAMES, GIRLIE." He bellowed over the roar of the flames around us. "MIGHT AS WELL GIVE UP, CAUSE YOU AINT BEATEN ME." He continued his provocation while raising his axe again.

I hated to admit it, but he was right. The Hero stood no chance against him. While all of his blows had been brutal, promising grievous injury if one failed to adequately deal with them. Not one of them had contained even a hint of spirit or mana. For me, without mana, I would be hard-pressed to achieve anything more than a draw.

Luckily I didn't need anything more. If I delayed him long enough for Scaled to get The Hero away, then I could quickly get away from this altercation on my own.

"Alright, Let's pick up the pace, hidden skin." The Warren chuckled out before rushing me again.

True to his word, my opponent's blows came at me faster than before. He didn't waster the momentum of his strikes by stopping his swing when I evaded or deflected. Instead, he followed through every time, bringing his axe around in vicious circles, some aimed at vital organs, others looking to reap my limbs from my body.

I didn't take his assault idly. Taking every opening, he exposed to move in close to him and land powerful blows to his vitals. All the while, my curiosity grew about that familiar yet strange feeling about The Warren.

It was almost like someone had masked whatever it was to hide it. Like a slimy eel, I needed to pin down to examine, but I only got the briefest moment while within my opponent's reach to even attempt to do so.

It was... frustrating.

I knew things couldn't continue as they were. Scales was building mana to punch through the flames, and The Warren was accelerating further and further, still without any sign of spirit or mana usage in his moves. So, when my opponent next brought his axe downward, I stepped into his guard with my side to him.

I grabbed the neck of the axe and one of his arms, and using the remaining momentum from his swing, I pivoted his body and threw him against the stone center of the fountain.

I didn't give him a chance to recover, running after him before he'd even made contact with the structure.

His body slammed into the center of the fountain as I reached its edge. And when he fell into the water below, I leaped on top of him, shoving my knees deep into his armpits and grabbing both his wrists and forcing them above his head.

The next thing I did is something I would come to regret. Maybe acting out of frustration or stupidity, whatever it was, it prompted me to slammed the forehead of my mask against that of The Warren, bashing the back of his head down into the water and against the bottom of the fountain.

In the next few moments, several things happened. The force of my headbutt caused a deep crack to run down the center of my mask. Scales punched through the entrapment, and he and The Hero escaped through a rapidly closing hole. The Archer released his arrow in The Sniper's direction, at the same time as they let loose a shot of their own. And as all of this occurred, I finally pinpointed exactly what I had felt from The Warren this entire time.

Summon Stain.

"You were at the summon." I let my voice out without thinking, the surprise from finding a clue about the second summon leaving my mind reeling.

Before I could collect my thoughts or verify my teammates' success or safety, The Sniper's shot impacted the center of the fountain behind me, causing it to explode, sending me flying away from The Warren.