Chapter 81: The Better Part of Valor

I tried. Honest.

As soon as I realized Mask was trying to cut me from the fold, wolf to sheep style, I flipped from defense to offense. Maybe if I could get a few hits in, or even a few near misses, he’d have to concentrate enough that Gerry and Erin could –

As soon as I did anything except defend myself, another hammerblow slammed into my gut.

I staggered back and didn’t get my Iron up in time to stop another strike from clipping me in the shoulder. My hand almost spasmed open, which would’ve sent my phone scattering out of reach. I managed to grip it, just. While I focused on that, pinpricks rippled up and down my face and chest.

By the time I dragged my shield back between Mask and I, I was sure I’d lost hundreds of HP. All I was doing was flailing back and forth with the Iron, trying blindly to knock attacks away.

I tried to get a sense of my positioning. Ten feet back from where the rest of my team stood. I’d be pinned against the escalator soon, if I didn’t manage to change the angle of my retreat. Gerry was charging after Mask and I, but without ever taking his eyes, or at least his eyeholes, off of me, Mask shot a lash of darkness back to trip him up.

I tried switching to offense again, even though I knew Mask was still paying attention to me. As I feared, I took another hit for my troubles. Even with the speed of Air, my Iron couldn’t reach Mask before he hit me. I needed to cover too many angles, and he kept his tendrils too close.

Faced with a superior opponent and a pair of allies I didn’t know how to combine with, I did the only thing I could think of:

Retreated.

No, that’s not quite right. “Retreated” implies I kept backpedaling, attempting frantic deflections, launching the occasional feint to make it seem like I was still in the fight.

What I did was, I threw out one wild attack in the vague direction of Mask’s face, accepted a stinging but not especially damaging stab in return, and ran like hell.

I tore across the concourse, headed for the escalator.

For a moment, the only sounds were my footfalls slapping on the brick. I’d left everyone too startled to speak, much less to move. Then I heard not just an echo of my steps, but more in a different tone. Mask in pursuit.

He was certainly a better fighter than me, and whatever combination of Reactant and Material he used, it offered him a powerful mix of offense and defense.

But I had two Air now, and after I didn’t get to Lena in time to save Bernie, I’d done a bit of practicing with ways to use it. Zero chance Mask was catching me.

I whipped my Iron around behind me, pumped a second unit of Air into it, and pulled it along in my wake. I leaped more than I ran, and every time my feet left the bricks, I gave myself a shove in the back. I didn’t nail every landing, but even missing one now and then, I still made time that would’ve gotten me on a track team if it hadn’t looked so absurd.

“Pussy!” Mask shouted, from shockingly far behind me. His attempt at a barb didn’t land. Partly because the bravest – or at least most combative – person I knew was a woman. Mostly because thoroughly modern slang sounded absurd coming from his movie-villain altered voice.

Let’s be real, though. Were there things he could have done to arrest my flight? Yes. Something he could have said? No chance.

I heard the exact moment he realized it. He skidded to a stop just as I reached the escalator.

When I kept running, one of my teammates finally reacted.

Erin’s voice cracked as she called, “Cam, what are you –”

Whatever she intended to say to me – probably a more polite version of Mask’s sentiment, frankly – something cut her off. I didn’t dare turn to look, but I could guess that Mask had decided he’d cut me from the battle by scaring me off and had finally turned to the others.

If he’d done that right away, it would’ve counted as something that stopped me from running. At this point, though, I poured on another burst of speed. I rounded the escalator.

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Then, with a twirl of my fingers and a pivot of my heels, I smashed my Iron into my own back and hurled myself back toward the fray. Judging from the pain, that cost me some HP. It also put me right where I wanted to be.

As I sailed back, I had a second to take in the sight of Mask sidestepping one of Gerry’s swings and retaliating with a palm-first hammer blow that sent the wiki team member staggering.

Clean hit, and good target prioritization. Erin was too busy defending herself and Zhizhi to extend her shield to Gerry, and Gerry was clearly trying to act as DPS. Another indication that Mask knew his shit when it came to Third Eye PVP.

He didn’t, quite, know his enemies, though.

Erin’s attack whipped into his legs and made him stagger. She’d pivoted to offense at the perfect moment. When Mask scrambled upright, he burst back, and though Gerry couldn’t quite land his retaliatory swing, this time, he came within inches. From the burst of static, I suspected Mask was cursing under his breath.

I’d guessed this would happen, because I knew Erin and Gerry must have played together, in other games if not Third Eye. They’d have a more effective rhythm than either had with me. All it had taken to bring to the fore was getting Mask’s attention on them.

He backed off a step. He lashed out at Erin and Gerry at the same time. Erin was back on defense already, her shield spreading to absorb both strikes. A fast reaction, but a mistake. She hadn’t recognized just how much force Mask imparted to his blows. Her shield cracked and tendrils zipped through to sting her.

She hissed in pain, but rather than try to block, she launched a lance of Earth-formed Iron. It scraped Mask’s side.

I knew an Earth attack like Erin’s wouldn’t do anywhere near enough damage. That was Earth’s weakness in Third Eye combat. For all its versatility, all its defensive qualities, even for its deceptive speed, it took a while to deplete an opponent’s HP.

But every little bit hurt.

And every little hurt distracted.

You know what does a lot more damage than Earth?

An Iron orb shaped by Water, propelled like a cannonball with the full force of two units of Air.

Mask hadn’t noticed me swing around the escalator. For a moment, I’d lost his aggro. My attack caught him clean in the chest, undodged, unblocked. It flung him back into the arcade. He crashed into the counter and it shook from the impact.

I’d learned my lesson from the last time I thought I’d dropped this asshole. Before he could rise, I flicked my orb backwards, then flung it into him again, battering him to the tiled floor.

He started to drag himself up. Good call, because I had no intention of stopping. I’d seen how many HP he’d had in some of those later invasion reports. Bad call, because dragging himself to his feet was not going to get him up faster than I could smash him back down.

I didn’t advance any further. Why would I? Even if he managed to shield himself, he’d have to cross most of Cinder Alley to hit back at me, and expose his flanks to both my allies with every step. Me? I could fight just fine from here.

Mask slumped against the counter.

Sorry, “Bud,” I thought. No way in hell do I believe you’re out of HP.

I whipped the orb up and down like a yo-yo, pummeling his chest and shoulders. The difference a second Air made shocked me. I hadn’t had the chance to practice much with it, but it was only when I compared it to what other players were doing that I realized just how fast it had made my attacks.

Once, I might have let that make me complacent.

I was sure, though, that Mask must have faced someone with two or more Air before. I had him on the ropes because I’d sucker-punched him, but the moment I let up, he would turn the tables on me.

Speaking of letting up –

“Don’t hesitate,” I shouted. “Hit him with everything you’ve got while you have a chance!”

Gerry needed no further encouragement. He stepped forward, careful not to block my line of sight – too careful for my tastes, since I didn’t actually need line of sight to keep smashing my Iron into the same place – and brought his own Iron up. I realized I still didn’t know what Reactant he was using. If he had Fire, we might be able to finish this fast.

I thought Erin might hesitate. I could see her shoulders shaking even from where I stood. Nope. She might hate this, but Mask had killed her reluctance when he’d implied he’d hurt her teacher. She stepped forward, and her Stone flowed into the arcade.

Not to strike, but to wrap around Mask’s hands.

That was one of Matt’s tricks. In fact, I’d seen him use it to end a duel with Erin. As attacks went, it seemed both very effective and suited to her preference not to inflict any more pain on an opponent than she had to.

I considered that my preference, too. I didn’t think I had the luxury to act on my preferences at the moment. I kept smashing my Iron into Mask’s prone body, even as Erin tightened her grip on his hands.

Gerry followed my lead. The edge of his Iron glowed red-hot. Fire! Yes! What was more, he seemed to have developed a trick with it that Lena hadn’t, focusing all the heat on one edge like the tip of a soldering iron.

Mask hadn’t responded with more than a grunt to my attacks, but when Gerry’s Iron sizzled against his cloak, he let out a distorted cry.

“Surely this is enough,” Erin said. “I have his hands trapped. We can stop!”

I bit my lip.

“He could be out of HP,” Erin said.

“He’s not,” I said.

He wasn’t.

Was he?

I snapped my Iron up.

And damn me, I hesitated to bring it down.

“Hell with that,” Gerry said.

The edge of his Iron glowed as he slammed it home.

And it kept on glowing when it plunged through Mask to sink into the tiles beneath him.