Considering the Godknight’s battered and broken state, it would have been reasonable to assume Enek’Chok’s blow would cause some damage. But the Godknight didn’t even flinch. He glared at Enek’Chok with a mix of confusion and tired exasperation. He had withstood everything this Order of the Holy Ascension had thrown at him, had bested one of the most feared beasts in all of history and was still standing. Finishing off the remainder of these soldiers might take a little bit more effort then usual. But even in this state, a few battle mages and rank-and-file soldiers stood no chance.
But the Godknight was tired. Ready to end this. He paused briefly and shook his head, disappointed in what his old friend Enekis had become. Then he countered Enek’Chok’s blow with one of his own, pulling his punch with the long-perfected, precise force needed to incapacitate. Not decapitate.
Enek’Chok’s body shot backward at an incredible speed, covering the distance between himself and his siege tower in a flash. The Godknight chuckled in spite of himself, satisfied, and began striding confidently towards Enek’Chok.
Enek’Chok got to his feet and brushed the dust away from his robe. His face twisted painfully as he checked his jaw to confirm it was still attached. Then he straightened his posture and began walking forward to meet the Godknight.
The Godknight hesitated slightly. That blow should have knocked Enek’Chok unconscious. Enekis, a typical Aeonic, had been as tough as they came, but not nearly resilient enough to withstand a blow from the Godknight.
Perhaps the new sigils decorating this “Enek’Chok”’s neck and face somehow heightened his fortitude? It certainly hadn’t heightened his strength, judging by the man’s initial punch. The Godknight hadn’t even felt it.
The Godknight would have to be cautious, then. He had just killed the Maelstrom, a decision he knew would carry repercussions. Perhaps they had even already begun. Striking Enek’Chok too hard—killing an Aeonic—was not an option.
But the Godknight wasn’t limited to brute force. He had hundreds of ways to defeat his enemies at his disposal. Still… he wanted to send this man a message. Considering the damage Enek’Chok had done already—to his city, his people, and him—he deserved what he was about to get. He deserved to hurt.
The Godknight gestured towards the heavens, summoning a blinding bolt of lightning. The white and blue discharge struck Enek’Chok on the crown of his head with a sickening crack. For a brief moment there was nothing but white hot heat obscuring Enek’Chok’s face. Then he rolled off to his side, somersaulting twice, his tunic and his hair smoldering.
The Godknight felt satisfied once again and resumed walking forward. But Enek’Chok merely stood up yet again, this time patting out the small fires on his clothing with his hands.
The Godknight regarded him with surprise and respect. Something was very, very different about this version of the man. This “Enek’Chok.” Perhaps it was time to start taking him more seriously.
Enek’Chok was striding towards him again, and the Godknight paused, taking a moment to study his foe. Enek’Chok was in pain; the Godknight could read that well enough. And the smile the Godknight had found to be tinged with a little arrogance had disappeared. But he strode forward with a silent confidence he simply should not have felt.
Perhaps there was an easier way to end this, the Godknight thought. He reached out with his mind; if he could get inside Enek’Chok’s head, he might be able to tell him to simply go to sleep. But the Godknight’s telepathic strength paled in comparison to his physical might. If the mind he was trying to enter was strong enough of will, it was possible he could be repelled.
Enek’Chok did just that: repelled him. The Godknight flinched at his angry rebuttal. However, while his telepathic probe into Enek'Chok's mind had been brief, it was sufficient to detect the presence of another mental force supplementing it. A psychic of considerable strength, one with a deep connection to Enek’Chok. Her added strength allowed Enek’Chok the edge he needed to keep the Godknight out of his mind.
“Under—” Enek’Chok started, before a spasm of of coughing seized him, making him double over in discomfort. It only took him a moment to collect himself, though, and soon he was standing tall once again. He adjusted his robe and raised his chin.
“Underestimated me, have you?” he asked.
“Apparently so,” the Godknight said. “I have made many mistakes today. I don’t intend to keep making them. Stand down. This is your last chance.”
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Enek’Chok reached the Godknight and stood eye-to-eye with him. Enek’Chok was a very tall and sturdy man by human or Aeonic standards. But the Godknight’s height was unnatural; Enek’Chok still had to look up to lock eyes with him.
The Godknight held his ground, waiting—and not-so-secretly hoping—Enek’Chok would stand down. Instead, the Order’s leader pushed the Godknight in the shoulder. A schoolyard shove that managed to only move the Godknight’s shoulder back by an inch.
What didn’t immediately register with the Godknight was that he had been moved at all, something that, again, Enek’Chok should not have been able to do. He was still feeling the effects of the fight with the Maelstrom, a fight he had entered at less than full strength and exited in a considerably worse state. Under the circumstances, it might be forgivable that he missed that small detail.
The Godknight sneered at Enek’Chok. Fine, he thought. You want to fight like a child? He shoved Enek’Chok with both hands to the chest, once again sending him soaring across the square. Enek’Chok missed the siege tower this time, instead impacting with the members of his army who had begun to gather in force around the tower. They fell over like leaves in the wind as Enek’Chok melted into their ranks.
He emerged a moment later, his soldiers parting to let him pass. The Godknight took note of the expressions of admiration and respect—almost reverence—the men and women of this Order gave their leader as he strode past them. It was becoming clear there was more to this Order than the would-be conquerors the Godknight had initially judged them to be. And the fact that they were being led by Malphor, who the Godknight had only ever known as a gentle, peaceful soul, suggested that the world outside Brightholme, a world he had known as Solunis, had changed very, very much since he left it behind.
The Godknight didn’t wait for Enek’Chok this time, instead striding briskly to meet him. Flying or leaping would have been the faster, easier approach. But it pained the Godknight to admit to himself that he wasn’t sure he could pull off so simple a feat.
They stood face-to-face one more time, Enek’Chok’s eyes burning in defiance.
“Enough,” the Godknight said. He grabbed Enek’Chok by the collar with his left hand and lifted him off the ground. With his right hand, the Godknight punched him square in the nose. Enek’Chok’s head snapped back and he grunted. Then he returned his gaze to the Godknight… and grinned.
It was nearly impossible to make the Godknight lose his composure. But that grin was the last straw. The Godknight pounded Enek’Chok again. And again. And again, until his fist was nothing more than a blur. He tossed the man aside with disgust.
Enek’Chok barely stumbled, immediately gaining his balance. His smile widened, twisting into an angry, determined snarl. The Godknight studied Enek’Chok’s face and detected no injury or damage. As if the Godknight had not hurt him at all. In fact, he looked stronger than ever.
The Godknight was running out of options. He reared back, ready to strike Enek’Chok down with one more mighty, final blow. To his astonishment, Enek’Chok brushed his incoming fist aside with a defensive strike to his forearm. The Godknight staggered, momentarily thrown off balance. His forearm throbbed from the deflection.
That was interesting. Interesting and disturbing. He hadn’t even felt Enek’Chok’s first punch. But he had just felt the contact on his arm. Had Enek’Chok been toying with him all along?
“Just a little more,” Enek’Chok snarled. “Come on. Just a little more.” He took a defensive stance and beckoned the Godknight forward, fists raised.
The Godknight’s rage boiling over, approaching a level he had rarely ever felt. The notion that he might have to break his code—again—to put this man down flashed across his mind. He had managed to protect humanity from unimaginable dangers over the millennia without ever taking a life. But he had been at full strength then. Invulnerable. Unbeatable. None of those threats had ever hurt him the way these people and their monsters had.
Which only fueled his anger. He thought of the Sisters of the Twin Moons, their bloody bodies laid out around their village. And of watching his people fleeing the city in panic as he had returned—too late—to Safehaven. And of the dead he had seen upon his arrival in City Center.
“No more,” he barked, and began punching wildly at Enek’Chok. Both fists were blurs now, hammering down relentlessly at the man. He was nearly out of control, bellowing like a rabid animal as he struck Enek’Chok with a fury unmatched.
After nearly a minute the Godknight ceased his assault. He bent over, hands on knees, his shoulders rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. He had never felt so tired in all his long, long life.
This was a day of many firsts for the Godknight, and that didn’t stop now. Enek’Chok was still standing, unmoved, and the Godknight felt not just fear, but abject terror. He realized, too late, just how wrong he had been. About the extent of his own vulnerability, about this Order’s capabilities. And, worst of all, about Enek’Chok.
Not only was Enek’Chok still standing, he also appeared completely unharmed. More than that... stronger. There was an energy surrounding him that the Godknight could almost see and most definitely feel.
Enek’Chok’s face was twisted in a look of pure disdain. All pretense of humor or friendliness was gone.
“My turn,” he said, and the Godknight felt a chill rush down his spine.