Adam’s axe had struck harshly against the wide, flat side of the greatsword, which had been used like a shield. Half a thought had entered his mind at the time.
‘That isn’t good for the-‘
Yet the thought had cut off.
The rage which had spread through Wahruv hadn’t been like any rage he had seen, not from Jurot, not from Jarot, and not even from Otkan, who embraced her rage differently. This rage was something else, something which made his entire body tingle.
Adam’s entire body told him to duck, and he followed his will, which caused him to squat down, half bowing as he did.
There was a heavy rushing sound as wind struck across the back of his neck, as the greatsword, which was nearly hot with fire, passed him by above him. It didn’t pass him by, but rather, had threatened to cut him in half if it had hit.
Wahruv’s muscles almost tore apart from the heavy swing, but he stopped his blade right as it passed Adam’s head, which caused his muscles to scream at him. Already his arms were quivering, but if the swing had continued and he used the momentum, Adam would have defended against it, the Half Elf already bringing up his shield to hide behind it.
Instead, he brought his greatsword above, causing Adam’s hairs to stand on edge as he exploded from his squat backwards, barely dodging the greatsword, which scraped across the front of his armour, and even cut across his inner thigh. It was only the corner of the greatsword, barely more than a hair’s width which had struck him, but the flames seeped across him, and the weapon had torn through his puthral plate and into his flesh with the smallest of cuts.
The greatsword landed on the ground which such force that sparks flew out across the area, and the stone floor was cut so deep, Kitool would be able to put her entire hand into it.
Health: 65 -> 42
‘So much damage?’ Adam thought. ‘It only grazed me.’
Adam’s entire body had grown cold at the thought of facing that greatsword again, but Wahruv, whose arms were now bleeding from forcing his body to move in ways it shouldn’t, raised his sword again, and stepped forward.
“More!” Wahruv roared, spit flying into the air as he leapt upon Adam, a savage beast who wanted nothing more than to tear Adam apart.
Warrior Spirit: 2 -> 1
Health: 42 -> 47
Attack
D20 + 6 = 15 (9)
D20 + 6 = 16 (10)
Miss!
Attack
D20 + 6 = 15 (9)
D20 + 6 = 22 (16)
Hit!
Mana: 11 -> 8
1D6 + 1D3 + 4D6 + 4 = 31 (5)(3)(3, 5, 5, 6)
Damage resisted!
25 damage!
‘Why the hell am I holding back?’ Adam thought, gripping his axe tight. He stepped forward, twisting his hips as his axe struck the greatsword which threatened to cut him, shoulder to shoulder. Their weapons struck one another, causing sparks to fly, and his own axe cracked from the force of the blow. before Adam cracked against Wahruv’s side.
“You’re the first one to face my strongest smite yet,” Adam said, crashing against Wahruv’s side, swinging his axe down desperately across the man’s thigh. His axe flashed white hot, exploding into splinters, and the pair were knocked back from one another.
“Oof,” Adam said, landing on his back, trying to catch his breath.
Fahruv leapt forward to catch his son from falling on the floor, the old man still so strong and nimble, as expected of an Iyrman.
“What a son I have,” he grumbled, slowly laying his son down. “Why do you always have to worry me so much?” He reached down to his knee, undoing the prosthetic leg to rub his knee, where his leg had been cut off.
Adam managed to crane his neck down to see the two Iyrmen, one of them unconscious on the floor. He raised his axe up, only to see it was a splintered handle. ‘Looks like it wasn’t good for my axe, rather than his greatsword.’
Victory!
Wahruv
XP Gained: +300XP
XP: 4125 -> 4425
Adam let out a long sigh of relief. ‘Thank Baktu I didn’t have to face that guy for long.’ His heart thundered in his chest now that he could feel anything but the fear of Baktu from that greatsword. ‘He didn’t even crit or smite me and he hit like a damn truck.’
“You fight well,” Fahruv said, on behalf of his son.
“Yeah, thanks,” Adam said. “Wahruv was one hell of a fight.”
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Fahruv assumed that meant something good.
“If he had me even once more, I would have used Fireball,” Adam said, finally sitting up, taking off his helmet to reveal his sweaty face.
Fahruv laughed. “They say you cannot help but joke, Nephew of the Rot family.”
“I’m not kidding,” Adam said. “Even if it would have hurt me, I would have used it to knock us both out. That way, at least it would end as a draw.”
“You can use Fireball?” Fahruv asked, though he was interrupted by Sonarot stepping over to hand Lanarot to Adam.
Adam held Lanarot and pinched her cheeks. “You didn’t look away, did you? I bet you wouldn’t have looked away if I cast Fireball, eh?”
Fahruv stared at Adam. “You can cast it?”
“Yeah,” Adam replied.
“Will you show us?”
Sonarot wondered if she should stop it, but she sighed. ‘Since you have already resolved yourself to revealing your strength to the Iyr…’
“Sure,” Adam said, keeping Lanarot cuddled up to his chest, though she squirmed for her mother. “Where can I cast it?”
“You may cast it on me,” Jarot said, stepping up from his spot.
Even Churot seemed excited about the prospect of watching a Fireball strike his grandfather, for it was a fun event for an Iyrman to be struck by a Fireball.
“You heard him, right?” Adam asked, looking to Sonarot. “He said I could.”
Sonarot bowed her head. ‘Men.’
“You can cast Fireball?” Jaygak asked, staring at the Half Elf. “Why didn’t you tell me? I want to be hit by a Fireball!”
“I learnt it recently,” Adam admitted. “Didn’t I tell you I was learning spells the other day?”
“You never said you were learning that spell!” Jaygak shouted in despair.
“I too, want to be hit by a Fireball,” Jurot said, nodding his head.
Kitool held the two puppies in her arms. ‘It is my test in life to be surrounded by idiots.’
“Hold on, what are you guys doing here?” Adam asked, looking to Jaygak, Kitool, and the rest of his party.
“We heard you were going to fight,” Dunes said. “We did not watch the fight yesterday, but we heard there were going to be Experts fighting today.”
Adam shook his head. “Who else wants to be hit by a Fireball?” Adam asked.
There were a large swarm of children who rushed over to him to ask for permission, but Adam narrowed his eyes.
“Hold on, I can’t cast Fireball on you,” Adam said. “You’ll die.”
The children groaned.
“I won’t die,” a young Devilkin said. “Fire does not hurt me as much!”
“Even if it doesn’t hurt you as much, it’s still a Fireball,” Adam said.
The Devilkin boy stared up at Adam with an incredulous look, before his mother quickly grabbed him by his horns.
“Do not trouble the Nephew,” she said, before dragging her son away by his collar.
‘So, you have at least that much common sense,’ Kitool thought. There were times she thought he was an existence far beyond them.
The children soon scattered once their fathers and mothers berated them for being so stupid, and soon there were a handful of Devilkin and Rot family members who were all eager to be hit by the spell, grouped around one another so they were in range of the spell, but far enough away from one another that they wouldn’t interrupt the fun of the other Iyrmen.
Adam paused.
‘Wait. Isn’t this weird?’
He looked towards all the Iyrmen who were watching expectantly.
‘Am I the weird one?’ Adam thought.
Mana: 8 -> 5
Spell: Fireball
8D6 = 24 (1, 2, 2, 3, 4, 4, 4, 4)
24 fire damage!
Adam felt his Mana flow through his body, warming him up, before he called forth the words of magic.
“I am become death,” he chanted, calling forth flames from the heavens.
A small bead appeared from the sky as it fell down towards the Iyrmen. As it fell, it grew larger and larger, and the Iyrmen each prepared themselves. Jurot raged, but did not try to dodge. Jaygak crossed her arms, waiting for the flames to engulf her. Jarot was no Devilkin, so he had no natural resistance against the fire, but he did not rage either, instead accepting the flames which fell across him.
The Iyrmen around began to cheer as the flames engulfed the group of Iyrmen, who seemed all quite fine due to the fact Adam rolled poorly for damage.
‘No, it’s the Iyrmen who are weird,’ Adam thought.
Lanarot screeched as the flames engulfed the group, clapping with excitement as the brightness of the flames caused the entire world to change for her for a moment, and she looked around, filled with utter glee.
‘I feel like I shouldn’t be teaching my little sister something like this…’ Adam thought.
Lanarot threw her arms in the air and screamed with joy.
Adam flushed slightly, filling with a great sense of accomplishment. “What’s that? Do you think I’m cool? Want me to cast it again?”
The Iyrmen who had taken the fire gave Adam a nod, but there were other Iyrmen who were barging in for their turn. Jarot remained within the area of effect of the Fireball.
“That Fireball was barely good enough to light a cigar,” Jarot said.
“Says the old man who can’t cast it,” Adam said. “I can cast that spell five times per day if I want to, so you better watch it.”
“Five times?” Jarot asked. “You are an Expert, both with blade and magic, but you should only be able to cast it twice, no?”
Adam smirked. “You shouldn’t use that kind of logic with me.”
“That should be enough,” Elder Zijin said, burning a hole in the back of Sonarot’s head for taking such a star away from him. “Let us leave Adam to rest after that bout.”
“Please allow me to face you next,” an Iyrman from the crowd asked.
“I would like to face you as well,” another said.
Adam threw a glance to Sonarot. ‘Do I really have to fight them all?’
“Adam has fought enough,” Sonarot said. “He has proven himself as a member of our family.”
“It is unfair for you to use an outsider for the fights,” an older Iyrman said.
“He is a Nephew of our family,” Sonarot said, brushing Adam’s hair. “He is no outsider.”
“He used magic during the fight,” an older Iyrman said. “That sort of fight is boring to see.”
“I fought Wahruv with a normal axe, which was nearly destroyed by his magical sword,” Adam said. “I don’t mind if you want to say that I used my magic, but last time I checked, Wahruv also used his rage to face me. If he can use his rage, something which I can’t, why can’t I use my magic?”
“Adam is good with words,” Jurot warned. “He has faced against Nobles and won. If you do not wish to shame Wahruv any further, then the matter should rest here. If anyone wishes to continue fighting, I will fight.”
After seeing Adam fight, he could feel it, the twitches in his muscles, the electricity against his hair.
Plus, Jurot wanted to look cool in front of his mother.