"Geahh" the spear wielding cultivator cried as Markus finally found an opening to roll inside his guard. Quickly grasping his ankle in a move they'd drilled many times by now Markus straightened from the crouch twisting his hips and flipping him. "Shit" Markus cursed as he'd misjudged the strength sending his opponent skittering across the floor forcing Markus to chase after him. Somehow the man had managed to keep ahold of his weapon and Markus knew he needed to close the distances before he could regain his stance.
The shallow cuts on his leg and shoulder had already stopped bleeding but Markus did seem to notice as he felt like his life was on the line. Landing next to the kneeling cultivator Markus wrapped his arms around him waist throwing himself backwards into a suplex. The dazed cultivator still somehow holding his spear slammed into the stone floor with a loud twack. Breathing heavily Markus stood and looked around after making sure his opponent was truly taken care of. His second Dimitri was locked in a grappling position with the large cultivator sporting gauntlet and metal shod boots. Both men strained for position and just when it looked like his friend was getting and upper hand a boot shot out impacting Dimitri's shin causing him to slip and letting the cultivator push him regaining his distance.
Markus winced as though the cultivation method they used seemed to have greatly reduced the pain they felt that couldn't have been pleasant. Turning Markus observed the other two cultivators Pryor had found for sparing partners. One a woman with jet black armor using some kind of technique making it difficult to follow her with his eyes and carrying a staff facing off against her second opponent with his first sitting sullen holding a swollen face in his hands. The second a short man with two metal rods he used to beat his opponents like a drum.
Miraculously he was easily handling both simultaneously while observing the other fights. The man glanced over with some surprise and amusement on his face " Darell has just recently hit fourth stage it is mighty impressive that you have beaten him" the man Punctuated his statement by tripping on the fighter one his left and backflipping over a lunge from his right. "How about you and I have a bout" saying that he casually walked over ignoring the two confused, tired and beat-up men he'd left behind him.
Markus faced off across from the short and slender man across from him, Pierre was the leader of the mercenary band his bosses had hired for them to test their skills against. He was unassuming at first glance and honestly Markus wouldn't have guessed he was a cultivator without seeing him in action. Without warning a stinging impact arrived into Markus's ribs causing him to stagger. "Uggh, what" Markus said in confusion and alarm he'd seemed to have somehow lost track of the man. A loud crack of the rods across his back brought him back into the fight as he rolled and spun trying to catch a glimpse of the man.
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What he did see was the tip of the man's boot rocketing toward his face, with a sharp exhale of breath Markus threw himself into a backwards into a roll. Landing into a crouch he launched forward trying to tackle the man yet having him slip away and swatting him in the process. This continued rapid fire both positioning and swiftly advancing, retreating, dodging and attacking though Markus was sad to admit that it was mostly Pierre doing the attacking while he tried to survive the onslaught. Time after time he'd thought he'd finally had the man before having him slip through his fingers once literally as he'd managed to grab the man's wrist before his seemed to slip away.
Hayden Pryor and Hector Vale watched as their team captain battled the leader of the mercenaries. "What stage did you say he was at" Hector said quietly not turning away from the display in front of him. "Seventh" Hayden said equally softly not wanting to disturb the display in front of him, they had been going at it for nearly ten minutes now and all other matches had halted everyone having gathered to watch.
Markus's head rocked backwards blood trailing from his lips before slowly clotting. If he'd had a mirror and was in any state of mind to observe he'd have likely noticed the purple flecks like frost helping to freeze the split closed. Growling Markus focused himself to move not letting the acrobatic Pierre plant his feet for a more powerful swing. This aggressiveness left his left side open for another half dozen quick strikes only further enraging Markus causing his bones to thurm with a deep chill. His head was foggy from the pain, anger and exhaustion to the point where he was operating in a daze.
He was fixated on one thing and one thing alone, he needed to get his hands on Pierre. The object of his obsession danced away from another swipe and lashed out at his calf and face leaving two more welts to the collection of hundreds of pervious strikes. "Just fall big man, no shame in it" in direct contrast to Pierre's words Markus heard a chuckle in the man's voice that pushed him over the edge.
The chill in his bones felt like it would freeze him solid and he started to twitch and his mouth went numb like just after he'd eaten a bowl of those damed eggs. "Ahhh" Markus shouldn't in rage and pain instinctively pushing the energy building inside of himself outward. A purple blue mist flooded out of his pores with small hints of electricity cracking inside. Caught completely off guard Pierre wasn't completely able to avoid the sudden outburst of power. Pierre snarled dropping his left rod as the hand trembled uncontrollably as a small patch of skin turned frostbiten.
Markus roared in triumph at the success taking a step towards the man eager to turn this match around. Two things happen simultaneously the first was Markus stumbling his outburst of power cut off leaving him feel faint and shaky he'd never experienced since he'd become a cultivator, secondary Pierre's remaining rod glimmered with a dark energy before being whipped towards Markus's face impacting like a comit.
Markus didn't even have time to register something had been thrown at him before blacking out and hitting the floor.