Chapter Thirteen - The Second Round of Fabre, part 3
A single brush of the scabbard was more than enough to draw the King Oil Ooze’s attention away from the Elementalists who were busy chanting in unison. It turned away from them, facing the owner of the enchanted scabbard.
A cleansing enchantment was placed on the scabbard for convenience, but over time Fabre came across an interesting way to use it; the enchantment would ‘clean’ the scabbard by making the substance dirtying it to disappear into thin air. Upon the impact, Fabre felt a resistance quite unlike what he had expected from a body composed solely of oil, but the impact still managed to coat his scabbard in a thin splatter of oil. As Fabre observed after taking a step back from the attack, the dark glossy substance which covered the strands of silver dissipated to nothing as the enchantment took hold.
The King retaliated with a swift lashing of its arms, realizing that its body had been diminished, which was dodged with premonition. The strikes continued again and again, but each strike was skillfully evaded thanks to the hesitation the King showed when the scabbard would be in the way of the lashing arms. As long as the King kept going like this, Fabre was certain of his ability to stall.
After a few more times of dodging and defending the incoming assaults, the King’s body was at least a palm-width shorter than before. At this point the King showed a different reaction; it changed its shape once more. The oily mass lost the humanoid shape, breaking down to a round blob-like body, its wobbling resembling a giant jelly with a crown resting atop much like the one seem on the humanoid form.
With its changed body, the King went for a full-on body slam towards Fabre. He gave a grim look, putting more force at the jump to evade such charge; while it would be possible to defend it using his scabbard, the force of the impact was not something that would be nullified. Even if the enchantment ate its way through the oil, the scabbard still would be in danger of breaking in two.
The King landed on the nearby forest of trees, the impact snapping the trunks with ease. Fabre could not help but shiver at the sight, his mind already drawing up the certainty that his scabbard would be the last of his concerns had he attempted to block such an attack face-on. His fingers gripped around the neck of his sheathed weapon, thinking things through. It was possible for the shield left on his vest to provide a single protection, though he would be defenseless for the rest of the rounds, as there were no other enchanted gear with him. The gas-filter scarf was also eliminated from possible uses in his mind unless the King had some hidden attack involving gas. Then there was the final enchantment on the sapphire of the scabbard - one of the greatest enchantments his mother was able to create. It was the same type of enchantment as the shield however, meaning that upon use it has the chance to break. The scabbard was his most-prized possession however, which was the main reason for his reluctance.
The King had recovered from the recoil of the massive slam and was ‘facing’ his way once more. Eyes were engraved to his opponent, quickly making up his mind.
‘If the Elementalists cannot complete their magic until the next charge, then I have no choice but to use the final enchantment.’
The King threw its massive body towards Fabre again. At the same time, Fabre regulated the Mana within him to get out of the way. It wasn’t too long however until he realized his mistake.
The King stretched its body mid-air, reforming the familiar arm it had as a humanoid form. No matter how much Fabre had trained, he was not capable of altering his advancing course mid-air, nor was he prepared enough to retaliate. The most he could do was to put his scabbard forward, instinctively defending his chest and face more so than anywhere else. The King’s arm latched onto Fabre’s leg unlike where he had defended, then pulled him down. The force was so great that he wasn’t able to react as he was impaled to the ground, knocking the air out of his body. The King landed not too far away with a soft plop unlike the time when it had crashed into the trees.
A series of coughs erupted from the recovering Fabre, getting up with much effort from the cloud of dust that floated around him at the crash. He winced while trying to stand and looked back towards his lower body. He cursed at the sight of his leg which was twisted to an impossible angle; it was broken.
“Curses,”
Fabre muttered, eyes searching through the dust cloud wildly. Despite the overwhelming pain, his mind was alert for any incoming secondary attacks. There did not seem to be any as far as Fabre could see, though he was definitely not in a position to distract the King now.
The dust cloud shifted on one side and Fabre found himself glaring at the massive oily body. It wobbled up and down which to him looked like as if it was snickering at his injury. Fabre gripped his scabbard like a cane at the sight, struggling to get up. The King did not make any move to stop him to his surprise, but Fabre understood the reason well-enough; the arrogance of the strong. The King was looking down at him in Fabre’s eyes.
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
A cool breeze wafted towards him as he glared; the Cage was forming. This was the most crucial moment - if the King realizes what was happening, it may try to attack him or the Elementalists. He did not make any sudden movements however, regulating his Mana in silence.
The King’s massive blobby body stopped wobbling as it felt the same breeze Fabre had felt. His eyes flashed into action, sending a massive amount of Mana to his good leg, jumping over the King. At that moment the King, too, jumped away from its spot, away from the incoming magic.
“Salamander, block my enemy’s path!”
Fabre shouted as he made an arc in the air towards the fleeing enemy. He lifted his scabbard up above his head with both his hands, a posture as if he would pierce whatever is in front of him with the sheathed weapon. As he fell towards the King, he saw a wall of flames flickering into life a few distance in front of the King’s path. The oily mass dug into the dirt path as it hastily attempted to stop itself running into the wall, and that was all the time Fabre needed to plunge his scabbard into the King’s body. If it had a voice, Fabre was certain the King would be screaming in shock at this moment.
The first line of ice appeared right between himself and the King. The ice rapidly circled the King, branching off into multiple lines in every direction and forming a shape resembling a ribcage, albeit all-around the oily mass. He pulled his weapon out and fell back, wincing in pain and coming to his hands and knees at the pain of his broken leg. The King wasn’t able to stop itself from touching the the ice due to this and the moment the oily body made contact with the ice, the dark oily mass was frozen solid. There were mist of cool air seeping from it, showing how cold it would be.
“Archers fire at will.”
Fabre declared with an exhausted smile. Arrows pierced the frozen body with deadly force, cracking and shattering the King’s body. As Fabre had expected, only the ‘outer layer’ of the King was frozen. Once the arrows cracked open this, the unfrozen ‘inner’ oil oozed out from the holes.
The reason Fabre chose Ice Cage over other spell was its duration. Cage magic, as he had studied, will constantly apply its effects as long as one touches its cage. The oozing oil, too, started to freeze the moment it came in contact with the cage, and arrows shattered these too.
The battle with the King Oil Ooze ended in Fabre’s favour when every single drop of oil was frozen solid. He had faced more casualties than he would have liked, to which he berated himself about. His thoughts were cut short however as the voice of the prince flowed in his ears.
“Fabre Inmos. I congratulate you for defeating the King Oil Ooze. For defeating such a strong monster, the other candidate will be facing an additional wave of horde at this moment.”
There was a slight pause after that, then suddenly a trumpet sound echoed.
“Hywel Inmos has admitted defeat. Fabre Inmos wins the Barricade Defence.”
The prince’s announcement brought the triumphant smile back on his face despite the pain - the score was even now.
The sun had mostly disappeared from view around the time the two candidates were magically healed and teleported back to the amphitheater. Orbs of light had appeared around the audiences in remedy to this while the second round was going on.
Prince Edel got up from his seat, standing to view the audience below him. It was difficult to see detailed aspects of their faces due to the lack of sunlight, but even so their behaviour and the excited chatter told him that they had enjoyed the events thus far.
The prince closed his eyes, remembering how much effort he had put into this ceremony: the amount of workers for each round’s area; the capturing of monsters; the amount of funds they needed to hire he mages for the audience and for making those dolls.
The amount of slaves he had to deploy for the second day's rounds.
Unbeknownst to all but a handful who were organizing the ceremony, they had decided to use different sets of 'events' for rounds as each day passed; something more challenging as time went by as a means to increase the excitement of the audience. This meant the rounds would get riskier and would require more efforts.
At first the prince was reluctant to use slaves for various reasons; there was the risk of their deaths for one. This fact was definitely closer to becoming a reality now that he had seen Fabre's actions with his own eyes, but what was done was done. Besides, the prince reasoned, the dolls which the mages were able to make were flawed; they made weren't able to convey humane feelings which were crucial for the rounds to come.
"Let us give a round of applause for the two candidates who have bravely fought to show us their strength!"
Prince Edel announced, his thoughts pushed to the side to continue on with the ceremony.
"Unfortunately our time is running short for the day and so the ceremony will be postponed until tomorrow. As a symbol of apology, Sir Hugh Inmos has gladly prepared a feast for all to enjoy. Please do not hesitate to join us at the Inmos Mansion tonight!"
Cheers of delight could be heard from the crowd.