Trietel fully assumes his wolf form, dropping on all fours and pawing the ground restlessly. He begins to circulate the energy from his spirit core, allowing it to weave itself into the bloodstained fur, forming an intricate lattice covering his body. A defensive measure most likely. The only area covered by fur that the lattice does not protect is the wound that I had carved into Trietel's flank. Blood flows freely from the wound, mixing with the mud that Trietel's pawing stirs up.

Trietel emits a low growl and tenses his entire body. I assume the ready position again. Both of us pause, waiting for the other to make the first move. The rain intensifies, hurling fist sized drops of water on us. My line of sight is almost completely blanketed by a curtain of water. I can no longer see either the perimeter wall or the manor itself. Trietel and I are the only two people existing in this little self-contained world. The lightning flashes once again.

And Trietel explodes into action.

He makes a running pounce at me, jaws outstretched, ready to kill. Forewarned by the flare of his spirit core, I quickly roll aside, but his bulk nevertheless grazes against me, sending me sprawling to the ground. Trietel is now much quicker than he was before. Things are getting real. I quickly pick myself back up but Trietel does not follow through with the attack. Instead I hear a guttural laugh coming from him as he confidently circles me.

A probe. That's all that attack was. Trietel was testing how well he would do against me now that the gloves have come off. And he is probably feeling pretty good about himself right now. I brush off the mud that had become stuck on my clothes and get back into the ready position. I had been limiting the core's output as a safety measure, but looks like its now become a matter of use it or lose it. I let go of my restraint and begin drawing freely from the core, untrustworthy warmth flowing through my body.

Trietel leaps towards me in a flash but this time my reflexes are a match for him. I dodge to the side and bring my sword up, swinging it at Trietel's head as he passes harmlessly by. The blade strikes home, but the magical lattice Trietel had woven into his skin resists my attack. Power pulses outwards from the lattice, deflecting the sword's blade, leaving only a minor scratch on Trietel.

As Trietel lands from his failed pounce, I hear him make an amused sounding noise. Was he laughing at me?

Trietel turns to regard me, growling, "See Mr Greer? Don't mistake the graciousness of others as weakness. This fight has gone on for as long as it did only because I had been trying to spare your life. If you had succumbed earlier, at most I would have knocked you unconscious and left things at that. Now, you will reap what you have sown."

The wolf's core flares, bursting with power. Trietel looks at me, sorrow reflected in his gaze, "I had hoped that I would never have to kill again, but at least I can make it quick. Goodbye."

The wolf disappears from my sight and I feel something slam against me with the force of a freight train. The core increases its output, allowing me to resist being knocked down, but the sword is shaken from my grasp through the impact as I am sent skidding backwards. I feel Trietel's furry mass press against me and a pair of massive, yawning jaws appear right in front of my face.

The jaws snap down mercilessly on my helmet, piercing through it as if it was made out of paper. A spiderweb of cracks form on the visor as Trietel's unyielding teeth close in around my head. The jaws attempt to crush my head utterly, but the core pours its energy outwards, rendering my skin and bone impervious to harm.

Trietel makes a grunt of surprise and I take the opportunity to get a firm grip on his body. Pouring magic into my arms, I begin to lift the giant wolf off its feet, breaking Trietel's hold over my head. The broken helmet, still stuck on Trietel's teeth, is torn free from its original position, revealing my face. Trietel's eyes widen as he sees me completely uninjured from what was meant to be a killing blow.

"You're not the only one who was holding back." I grunt, strengthening my grip on the wolf and in an explosive burst of force, body slamming it into the muddy ground. Before Trietel can get his bearings, I begin raining blows on the big sucking wound on his side. Fresh blood spurts out of the wound as my fists and feet relentlessly batter it. I feel the euphoria start to build up within me once more as Trietel yelps in pain from my assault.

Suddenly, I feel Trietel's hind legs hook around my own just as I am about to deliver another kick. Losing my balance, I am sent falling into the mud. Trietel seizes the opportunity to get back up and his bulk is soon looming over me again, shaking his head to dislodge the broken helmet from his teeth. As the helmet clatters to the ground, I quickly draw the spent grenade launcher and point it at Trietel, causing him to instinctively flinch backwards. My arm shoots forward, shoving the grenade launcher into Trietel's mouth, much to his surprise.

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

That surprise quickly turns to annoyance as Trietel bites down on the weapon, neatly snapping it into half. He lunges forwards, jaws clamping on my shoulder. My veins burn with power as I wrestle with the giant wolf, prying it off me and tightening my hands around its neck. The buzzing in my head starts up and I mentally brace myself.

Its Gallant. He must be trying to take back control of the body.

Trietel on his part glares at me defiantly, refusing to back down. His paws slash furiously at my chest, tearing apart the stab vest.

"Mr Greer," Trietel gasps, "You know the saying about old dogs?"

He then looks me straight in the eye, "This old dog has learnt something new."

His core surges and the nimbus swallows me completely. A trap. Trietel was doing all this just to get close to me. I struggle to break free, but Trietel presses down on me with all his weight. He howls triumphantly, shards of spiritual energy breaking off from his core and piercing my body. I can't resist. I don't even know how to resist. The artificial core is simply not reacting to whatever Trietel is doing.

Trietel locks eyes with me and I hear the shriek of a power drill in my mind. Both my hands go limp, releasing his throat. Freed from my grip, Trietel's jaws rip at me but my body once again resists the damage. But the buzzing at the back of my head is growing steadily louder. I need to fight back before its too late. Before I completely lose myself.

I feel thousands of little knives stabbing into me all at once. It must be the shards of Trietel's spirituality that had been shot into me. He must be trying to use them to suppress me in the same way he had sedated Brocon. My legs still work at least. I begin to desperately knee Trietel in the gut in an attempt to get him off me. But all he does is snarl in discomfort and keep his jaws securely fastened on my neck.

Feeling returns to my arms and I grope about desperately for any form of recourse. My right hand finds a broken metal shard from the grenade launcher and seizes it in an instant. Trietel has become too absorbed in trying to chew my neck apart that he has not noticed anything amiss. I let my instincts take over and the powers direct my arm to send the metal shard stabbing into one of Trietel's eyes. No magical fur armor there. My hand takes on a life of its own and twists the shard as it pops Trietel's eyeball like a balloon. Trietel gives an agonized screech and scrambles off my body.

My head absolutely throbbing, I get back up to my feet and dash for the flogging rod that Trietel had dropped. Picking it up, I notice that Trietel is still madly thrashing about on the ground thanks to the loss of an eye. Raising the flogging rod up high, I deliver blow after blow into his body, the powers maximizing the injuries I am inflicting on a vulnerable target. The sense of euphoria within me is close to exploding. My vision starts to blur and my thoughts become foggy.

Then Trietel howls again, spiritual energy exploding outwards. I am once more swept up in the nimbus and the flogging rod falls from my nerveless fingers. But Trietel does not stop howling. Waves of spiritual energy slam relentlessly against me, and my entire body gradually loses power. As I collapse lifelessly into the mud, I note with relief that Trietel's howling had also managed to get the buzzing in my head to stop.

Trietel staggers back up to his feet, his face a bloody mess. He speaks in a soft, tired voice, "Your soul is surprisingly weak Mr Greer. Not what I expected from a master of magic. I should have focused on attacking your spirit core from the start instead of brawling in the mud."

I try to move but the sensation of being stabbed by thousands of tiny blades returns. Trietel gathers his strength and sends another blast of spirituality at me. The thousands of blades multiply into millions and they cut deep into me, before gathering around the core.

Trietel's soft voice drifts into my ear, "I'll break your spirit core and end things here Mr Greer. May you find peace in the arms of the goddess."

The blades press in on the core and I feel a series of unpleasant jolts throughout my body. Trietel stands tall, his fur bristling as a constant stream of spirituality is emitted from him, linking his core to mine, fueling the blades' assault. I hurriedly signal the core to retract its power, compressing it in order to limit any damage being inflicted. Trietel narrows his eyes and redoubles his efforts, an even greater flow of energy surging out from him.

I sense the tiny blades stab into my core, but instead of damaging it, the blades dash themselves into smithereens. Realization hits me all at once. Density. My core, the effective representation of infinity, is too dense to be damaged by Trietel. I compress my core even further and as Trietel feels the increased metaphysical pull from my core's gravity, he tries to disengage but fails. Its as if his spirit core was being drawn into a black hole.

Trietel resists as best he can, but its no use. His spirit core begins to crack and fragment, individual pieces being propelled towards the artificial core where they are mercilessly smashed into nothingness. With every piece of the spirit core that Trietel loses, he grows correspondingly weaker, his vitality ebbing away. A look of utter horror is on Trietel's face. He had wrongly assumed that because I had a weak soul, I would possess an equally weak core. The conventional wisdom was wrong in this case, and Trietel was paying for it with his life.

Trietel's core, having had a large chunk of it ripped away, abruptly collapses on itself, unable to maintain its integrity any longer. Blood spews from Trietel's mouth as his second life leaves him. And with a final keening wail, all his hopes and dreams come to an end.