He stepped in towards the nearest Uthraki, and buried his fist in the man’s chin. The fighter was bowled off his feet, and sent flying into the sky. Meanwhile, Hushar and Edgar piled in, with the latter sending a series of wind spears towards the fighter still flailing in the air. Hushar joined Jonathan on the front line, and used his sword to great effect. However, he was less successful than Jonathan was, due to his lower stats.

His sword acted as somewhat of a force multiplier, allowing him to duel with his higher level brethren, but he was still weaker overall. One of the Uthraki broke off from the main group to deal with Hushar, engaging in a duel of steel and fire away from the main part of the fighting. Jonathan felt the cool energy of Edgar’s enhancement skill taking effect, and his speed increased dramatically.

He met sword and ax with metal clad fist, sending weapons flying away in vicious parries driven by two thresholds of Strength, and over two thousand points in the stat.

“Who are you?” The Uthraki who had spoken before asked, a look of shock on his face. “You are not a circle lord, but you fight like one.”

“I am the one who will kill them,” Jonathan replied.

“Good luck with that. Even the Lord of this realm would be unable to defeat one of those monsters on an equal level.”

Jonathan danced out of the way of an incoming strike, and continued speaking. “I already killed one of them.”

“I doubt that. Enough bantering. Your intrusion will end here, in the name of the Lord.”

Jonathan took this for what it was, and fell silent. Instead, he devoted all of his focus to fighting at the top of his capabilities. He sank into the meditative focus of his Battle Trance skill, allowing him to act as if the incoming attacks were in slow motion. With the help of his foresight, he was able to empower the skill beyond its normal parameters. Ghostly images preceded every attack, giving him a tiny window of time to react beyond what he normally would have been able to.

As a legion of phantom armaments twisted and turned through the air around him, he was like a wraith, unable to be touched by them. Instead, he dealt devastating blows to those around him, sending spikes of the Void hammering into flesh and bone alike. The Uthraki roared in pain as Jonathan made his wrath known, their pain made all the sharper by their inability to hit him. They were some of the elites of this realm, and yet could not kill someone forty levels weaker than them.

Edgar was also proving to be a thorn in their side, as he fought from afar, raining down arcane devastation upon the fighters in front of him. Tornados of wind swept across the battlefield, filled with razor sharp blades of aeolic pressure. The mage was rapidly wearing down the defenses of the enemy in concert with Jonathan, allowing him to eke out the first kill. His fist slammed into the weakened chestplate of one of the fighters, caving it in completely. Anticipating the Uthraki’s next move with his foresight, Jonathan rushed forwards and speared his gauntlet into the man’s flesh, puncturing his heart.

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Essence poured into him, but he ignored it, as it had not been enough for a level. Instead, he continued on his bloody rampage. A few seconds later though, he was interrupted. A sudden, searing pain erupted from his forehead, and his third eye forcibly closed. He doubled over as a feeling not unlike a scalpel being taken to his soul overcame him.

He had run out of power with his Blessing for the first time, and now he knew exactly what it felt like. His soul was naturally powerful, which meant that the damage was minimal, but it was still distracting. He was caught by a savage uppercut from a club in the base of his chin, dislocating his jaw and sending him skidding across the ground.

Jonathan shouted in rage and pain, with most of the pain coming from the soul wound that he had taken. He got to his feet, still stinging all over, and curled his lip. He raised one hand, and summoned the raging energies of the Void to it. A tiny black hole came into being above his hand, and he loosed it towards his foes. The air howled as the tiny speck of pure consumption erupted forth, and the ground beneath it sagged as it was pulled up into the cosmic maw. Jonathan grinned as the Uthraki scattered. However, one was too slow.

The speck impacted the woman’s torso, and then imploded, turning her into a sudden void in the air. There was nothing left. The black hole then ruptured, expending its energy on the world around it. The nearest fighters were blasted off their feet by the explosion, but most of them were unharmed. By that point, Jonathan’s soul had returned to normal, and he charged in, supported by Edgar. It felt different fighting without the effects of his Blessing, but it was better to not grow dependent on something that did not have a guaranteed effect.

It felt like he was cut off from the voice of the universe itself, and he found himself faltering slightly as he anticipated an incoming attack where it was actually the attack itself. Rather than dodge, he instead stepped forwards, before realizing his mistake. Stamina rushed through his body and he parried the blow, but the sting of the mistake still lingered with him. Some of the soul damage from overuse of his ability seemed to make it harder for him to do without it. It was a vicious little punishment, but one that made sense.

He focused the rage that he felt from his sudden weakness into his strikes, and he overwhelmed the fighters with sheer strength and power rather than technique. Sure, he still used a modicum of defensive acumen to mitigate incoming attacks, but he took risky opportunities, tanking hits to land far more devastating ones of his own.

Broken bones and crushed organs abounded with such a strategy, but he more than made up for it. More of the Uthraki died to his blows, as well as the constant attacks of Edgar.