Nathan had initially wanted to stand still and meet the Panthers' attack head-on, but from the way he saw it, it wasn't planning on just barreling into him. The panther was going to try and bite him in half.

The size of the thing and the way its fangs looked under the glow of the purple sky was enough to make Nathan change his decision. Nathan ran hard and fast, changing directions as often as possible, with the panther letting out frustrated roars anytime Nathan changed direction.

Well, I'm not going to stay still and let you kill me.

The only reason why running was working for him so far was quite simple to deduce: the trap from Sebalos' hand was firmly clamped on one of the panther's paws. While the trap was strong and heavy enough to catch and hold down a bunny or even a master Imp, he highly doubted that it could hold down the panther.

Hell, he was watching the panther run even with a clamped leg, and while Sebalos' hand didn't carry out its task as best as he'd have liked, it was still the only reason why he was breathing right now. The clamp on the front left paw was obviously slowing it down, but even with the handicap, the panther wasn't more than a few feet behind Nathan.

It chased him like he was something that belonged to it, and Nathan ran like he did have something that belonged to it. Eventually, Nathan began to flag, and so did the panther, judging by the way its breathing had changed and its roars had gotten quieter with each random turn Nathan took in the open clearing.

The entire thing reminded Nathan of the bull and the guy who held the red cloth that made the bull charge. He'd often shake his head, but he couldn't do that now as he was both the red flag and the man at the same time. In other words, Nathan was nothing more than a moving target.

I have to make a stand before I trip.

A very valid concern if you asked the still-running Nathan. The difference between running in a straight line and zigzags was quite alarming. The possibilities of falling over his own feet were even more concerning, and he'd rather stand and fight on his own terms than fall to the ground and have to fend off a pissed panther on his arse.

Pivoting on a whim, he turned and faced the panther with a grim smile on his face, his concentration at the maximum levels he could afford right now. The panther seemed to appreciate Nathan's bravery in the face of certain death as it let out a much louder roar at the sight of him standing still, rapidly eating up the distance between them.

The sound rattled Nathan's bones, but his mind was unaffected, and that was important in battle—a calm and sound mind. His fears faded into the background as an unnatural calmness enveloped him. Calmness was nice, but he didn't need nice right now; he needed rage. So he called upon his rage, and it answered like it had been waiting all along. With his sword, Nathan met the panther's charge with a slash.

An awkward paw slapped his sword out of his hand, the force tossing Nathan a distance away. His body bounced off the clearing ground before coming to a stop.

At least I didn't lose 25% on one strike.

Nathan internally chuckled at his sense of humor before spitting out the blood in his mouth to the side. A brief inspection confirmed that nothing had been broken, which was a way better outcome than he could've hoped for at the start.

He quickly scrambled to his feet, spying his sword lying at the place he'd been rag-dolled from. The panther was charging at him awkwardly, probably trying to avoid putting too much weight on its injured front left paw. Nathan didn't think about it too much, as he was simply trying to figure out how he was supposed to get his sword. The simplest way was just to run the panther around in circles and pick up his sword as soon as possible.

That was what he did, much to the annoyance of the panther, who had assumed that Nathan would have stood still and fought him like a barbarian.

No thanks.

He couldn't even consider using his fists to try and fight something like that. At best, he'd break his fists against its tough skin; at worst, it would bite off Nathan's fist. Those were two outcomes that he'd rather avoid. Circling the panther, which was hot on his heels, he swooped down and grabbed his sword as fast as he could and got into a sort of stance, waiting to meet the panther's charge.

Nathan thrust his sword at the face of the panther as soon as it got within point-blank range. The panther's momentum was too much to allow it to change the position of its big head. The blade and the point of his sword met.

Crack!

The sound echoed in the clearing. His sword had begun to sport cracks that spiderwebbed from the point of his blade that had met the panther's forehead—a terrible foreboding of what was to come. Nathan could do nothing but watch as his sword broke into pieces, all the iron apart until he was left holding nothing but the hilt of his first-ever sword.

Shit!

Shit was right, as the panther didn't hesitate to capitalize on the latest change. From close range, it opened its mouth wide as it bit at Nathan. All he could do was put his left arm in the way, hoping that it would be enough to protect him from the bite. It didn't.

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Crunch! Snap!

"Arghhhhhh!"

Nathan let out a heart-wrenching scream as the fangs of the panther tore into his arm like it was an apple, snapping the bones as it clamped down and multiplying the pain tenfold. It threw him away, using the injured arm as leverage.

"Oompf"

[Warning: health below 75%]

He landed on his side, cradling the injured arm with the uninjured one. He'd thrown away the hilt of his sword as it was as useless as his injured arm. As fast as he could, he pulled out his new sword from his bag of holding.

Please give me a better chance.

Letting his injured arm dangle on its own, Nathan gritted his teeth as he pushed back the pain into the deepest part of his mind, letting calmness replace the fury and pain that had been bubbling up since the start of their fight.

Yin and Yang.

Nathan sought the balance that Kora had so often told him about—the balance that would make his entire mind and body become one, the balance that would give him equal parts fury and equal parts calmness.

He could feel something within his soul begin to stir, but Nathan pushed it down. He couldn't afford to use the toilet right now if that was what his body was trying to inform him about.

Mentally crossing his fingers and hoping that he wouldn't shit himself mid-battle, Nathan rushed at the panther that had begun casually walking towards him. The limp in its step, where Sebalos' hand made its steps uneven, was the only thing that spoiled its gaze—the only thing that made the picture of a predator heading towards its prey less appealing.

Nathan had no idea which attack he was going to execute that would leave a mark on the panther, but he'd rather raise his blade and attempt to end the damned thing than kneel and usher it forward to bite off his head. No. There would be no kneeling on his path. If the panther wanted his head, it would have to defeat him to get it.

"Rargghhhhhh"

Rapidly closing the distance between him and the panther, Nathan let out a barbaric roar—one that had equal parts fury and equal parts calm. One that brought into sound how he felt in the moment, one that fueled Nathan's charge.

When Nathan's blade met the panther's forehead, which didn't bother to dodge this time, it sang a good two inches before coming to a halt. The panther slapped the blade away with a paw, backing away from Nathan with a roar of pain.

Not so cocky are we.

His new blade had shown the difference in quality with the old. The sword sank two inches into the panther's flesh where the other had broken in contact with the forehead—to be fair to his previous sword, it had seen a lot of battle, which had probably weakened it. The slash at the panther was probably the calm before the storm.

Resetting his stance, Nathan decided to calm down and think before pressing the attack mindlessly. The panther already had a head start, its eyes tracking each movement he made.

Both he and the panther were losing blood to their wounds: him because of the bite that had mangled his left arm, and the panther because of Sebalos' hand on its front left paw. He could tell that the trap was draining the health of the panther just like the wound on his arm did him.

The panther seemed to have tired of the wait as it charged at him, but Nathan was ever ready, his stance set as best as he could. His sword arched diagonally, starting from the sky as he hoped to slash at the panther's exposed head. Hope blossomed in his heart that he could end the battle in one strike, even when he knew he was just being delusional.

Delusional he could work with—after all, confidence was a close sibling to it, and he needed as much confidence as he could get to see this battle through. His sword completed its arc, meeting nothing but air as the panther side-stepped the attack, running past Nathan instead of counter-attacking.

Weird.

That was the only thought that Nathan could manage on the matter before an overgrown panther load of force hit him from behind, tossing him into the air. He hadn't been ready for it, but he held his sword tightly as he was flung through the air. His entire body ached as he landed roughly a few feet away.

This was the fourth or fifth time that he'd been rag-dolled within a handful of hours. The lich and the panther seemingly preferred to manhandle him rather than fight with honor and dignity. Nathan would have laughed at the stupid scenarios his mind was drumming up if not for the notification that flashed in his face before disappearing.

[Warning: health below 50%]

Quickly scrambling to his feet, he ignored the protest by his body as he reset his stance. The first strains of uncertainty started to seep into his mind as the new information brought to light the fact that he wasn't sure if Blood Rebellion would be enough to handle this beast.

Maybe I can go for the eyes.

It was a cheap trick as far as tactics went, but if it could work as it did against the Alpha and win him this battle, then Nathan wouldn't mind in the slightest. An end to this battle by any means that would see him the survivor was what he needed to achieve.

Eyes it is.

Nathan charged at the panther, the inkling of a plan boosting his steps as he prepared to strike. Getting within range, he thrust at the left eye of the panther—a last-gasp attempt to end the battle quickly. The panther batted the sword away mid-thrust, throwing its aim off as it barreled into him, knocking him off his feet. His sword clattered a stone's throw away from his position.

Bollocks.

[Critical Warning: health below 25%]

[Blood Rebellion triggered]

Faster than he could move, the panther pounced on him, its jaws going for his throat. However, he wasn't going to stay still and watch. With the knowledge of Blood Rebellion triggered, Nathan threw a wild haymaker at the panther. His strike connected cleanly, doing nothing but pushing the panther a finger away and enraging it.

Oh oh.

The panther went for another attempt at biting off his throat. Even as Nathan tried to pull back his hands for another punch, he knew he wasn't going to be fast enough. Blood Rebellion had failed.

Just as he was contemplating what he could do, a flash of white entered his field of vision. Nathan watched in amazement as the ball of white hit the panther with as much effect as a marble hitting a door. It bounced back like it had hit a solid wall, but its attack seemed to have had its intended effect—one that might have just saved his life.