"Mondego!" The crowd stopped when her voice reached them, and they looked over to see Rika running across the water with her mace raised high. Her footsteps pattered across the lake like a skipping stone.
The two Spaniards aimed their rifles at her. A blast, a flash, a puff of smoke. Water erupted beside her as she hurried past, misting her face. Another gunshot slammed into her shoulder, cracking and sparking off.
She leaped high over them. A pale green wind encompassed her weapon as she cast the spell, feeling the cool air slip across her hand. Mid-air, she swung her mace at him, throwing a Wind Blade.
It slapped against Mondego's aura, but it didn't shatter it. She landed across from them.
"Who the fuck is Mondego?" said Mondego.
She channeled another Wind Blade spell to engulf her mace.
"I've no time for your mind games, Mondego. It’s time you pay for your crimes.”
"Dude, you got the wrong guy," he laughed. His musket thumped against the causeway as he tossed it aside. He raked out a sword from its sheath, then held a practiced stance against her.
Rika threw the Wind Blade at him, but he dodged it. His dark-skinned partner aimed a pistol and fired, but missed, bathing the area in thick white smoke. That was a mistake.
Her gust of wind hit them on the flank, scattering the gunsmoke, knocking his friend into the lake - and Mondego himself off balance. She dashed in and slammed her mace into his side. Clack. She hit him again and again, each attack pushing him further away. Clack, clack, clack, crash! The mace shattered through his aura, breaking skin and crushing bone. He grunted as his body slid across the causeway.
Rika followed after to deliver the killing strike, but just as she landed in front of him, he rolled back and darted forward. He was fast. His blade slashed against her torso, ripping her aura and knocking her back.
-336HP
He steeled himself and yelled, "I'm a player, you asshole!"
She paused. His voice was different, younger even, and not the scary deep voice Mondego should have. He was a bit taller, his blond hair a measure longer and brighter, his eyes a sunburst of blue and gold - not green. This wasn't Mondego. She was an idiot.
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"Uh," she stammered. "Well, I'm a player-killer."
"You're a jackass."
Her face was getting hot from the embarrassment. A laugh hit them from the water - his friend. "I'm-I'm gonna kill you anyway!" She yelled.
They dashed into each other and clashed again. She swung her mace hard, but it whipped by just inches from his face. He followed through with repeated stabs into her chest and neck.
-121HP
-113HP
-180HP
-217HP
HP: 0
A sound rushed past her like a hurricane, rattling in her ears like glass shattering - her aura. She was losing.
He might've been the better swordsman, but she knew she was the better duelist. She pulled back and yanked him over with Gust. He rolled with the momentum, ready for a piercing stab, but she used the last of her MP to activate Lightweight.
As she dodged, he grazed her shoulder. The spikes of her mace slammed into his face.
He dropped lifelessly onto the wooden causeway.
Rika burst into laughter. Then, she heard a cough. She looked over at the crowd that had been escorting them, and she stumbled back. These weren't just priests or old ladies - they were warriors. Huge, meaty meat-head dudes with meaty muscles spilling out of their vests. One dude was wearing a chicken suit with feathers sticking out of his head. What the hell is going on, she thought.
One of them broke out of the crowd and stood before her. Not a meat-man, but a younger guy - a teenager maybe. Not huge, but well fit, dressed in a peasant's poncho, with long hair and a gallant, boyish face.
"I will be your opponent!" he yelled with crossed arms and a furrowed brow.
He spoke my language?
"There… for the eagle," the chicken-man said. The feathered warrior stomped over to the young man and handed a massive paddle - a weapon. A wooden board with a thin handle, black translucent teeth rammed along its edge.
This was a challenge. Rika didn't like fighting nipsies without a good reason, and she especially didn't fight youngsters, even if they were bigger than her. Just as she raised up her hand and lowered her head to convey her unwillingness to fight, he rushed her.
She had no mana left. Her aura was gone. She braced back against this guy and watched as he raised his paddle-weapon to strike her down. It ignited in a hot flame. He’s a caster! Rika brought her mace to meet the swing, and they clashed. Sparks poured on her, the fires of his weapon singeing her face. He was strong.
She kicked his knee to the side, throwing off his balance, then followed with another kick to knock him on his back. She stepped hard onto the causeway, her foot stomping beside him, and she raised her weapon high. This was a killing strike. She looked down into his eyes, and he looked back into hers - eyes wide with shock, then fear, then anger, then resolve.
She saw that he might've been her age, a few years younger, even. Sure this was a game, and he was just a nipsy, but he would die here, forever, and never return.
The boy rolled back to his feet and coiled like a snake. He lashed out, the flames that were roaring over his weapon exploded in strength, and his weapon slammed against hers- and through it.
Her mace erupted into shards and slag, and she stumbled away, looked up at this terrifying force to see his weapon flying down on her. It turned at the last moment and sliced her at the wrist.
Her hand thumped against the causeway bridge.
She was defeated.