Enough to let her get through the next all-consuming onslaught. Though the Horse-man came at her with yet greater ferocity, yet more rampant abuse of its Fog-walking, it was still missing an arm. Zelsys knew better than anyone the gaping hole in one’s offenses and defenses alike that a missing arm presented.
She managed to play keepaway long enough to fill up her Essentia Gut once more, even long enough to re-enact the same process of striking the Lightning Butcher with an artificial lightning arc, but this time, the golem knew better.
When she took that upward swing for its other arm, it leapt out of the way. Reacting on instinct, Zelsys lunged after it with a turn of the cleaver and a second, downward swing, tactical thinking giving way to raw animal intent…
...And the Lightning Butcher’s entire back edge just flew off in one piece, so forcefully as to send her stumbling.
A solid band of cold-iron, the sawteeth screaming bloody murder as it ripped across the courtyard at the speed of a bullet, dragging a trail of lightning as it went.
Even the golem couldn’t have anticipated such a thing, and though it dodged out of the way, it still carved a chunk out of its shoulder before curving on its path and carving off a third of its head, taking one of its eyes with it on its increasingly erratic flight path.
As she saw it rising into the air above the pavilion, Zel thought that it would be best if it just fell to dust before it could cause collateral damage - and in the next moment, so it was. The flying saw exploded into a burst of lightning and metal dust, the latter burning up in a flash. Already new feather-like sawteeth were growing on the Lightning Butcher’s back edge - quickly enough that she saw them sprouting even as her world came to a standstill and this feat seared itself into memory, demanding a name. Bizarre though it was, it would certainly be useful in dealing with beasts of all varieties, and thus she uttered its name: “Beast-butchering Arts: Flying Thundersaw.”
The golem vanished once more in a flash, and once more did it appear in her blind spot. At first she managed to evade it, but it was only getting faster and more aggressive the more she pushed against it.
The moment she was within its reach, the Horse-man unleashed an absolute torrent of downward strikes, punches glowing baleful lilac, leaving craters in the earth. Screeching beams of magic ripped forth from its eyes, carving paths in the soil that erupted with arcane detonations moments later.
Bucking kicks, headbutts, flashing Fog-steps, utter flailing onslaught.
It just kept on coming at her, demanding every ounce of her focus, every grain of her ability, every fibre of her being to focus on defense. Dodge. Duck. Weave. Jump. Block. Graze Pulse. Graze. Graze. Graze. Graze. Siphoning pulse.
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Meet a punch with a punch, rob of its momentum, use the brief moment of downtime to slip between its legs and saw into its thigh for a split-second. Anticipate the backwards kick. Siphon it. Slowly, bit by bit, refill the Essentia Gut with Fulgur all over again.
Zelsys knew not how she had survived the onslaught, remembering only that one of its punches had grazed her head and knocked her out for a split-second. Her left arm thundered with pain to the rhythm of the music, her skin was covered in scratches and bruises, she was quite certain she had dislocated and relocated her right shoulder at some point.
And yet, she felt victorious, for she felt a violent geyser erupting from her right eye, her Retributive Battery nearly as full as it had been that time back in the dungeon, and her Essentia Gut all but bursting with Fulgur besides.
“Glimmer of hope, stand up for all you believe! The righteous path, die on your feet, don't live on your knees! Trail of destruction, seals your fate, no retreat! Open the gates, straight outta hell, feel the heat!”
It towered over her, imperious and unassailable, a construct purpose-built to push her to her limits. She wasn’t quite certain before, but now she was sure - the golem was dynamically changing its own capabilities in an effort to push her further and further, continuously getting more and more dangerous as they fought. It could probably crush her where she stood if it decided to.
Raising its hand, it prepared to strike down at her.
Zel stayed in place, just breathing, making no effort at breath control beyond maintaining her Engine Breathing. She wanted to look like she was out of breath, and the only impenetrable way to do that was to actually get to that place. So she stood, and waited until it brought its fist crashing down.
She wouldn’t have been able to get her arm in place to block, even if she decided to raise her arm right as its arm started to come down. Not without it noticing and adjusting its strike.
And yet, she did just that. By sending a tremendous surge of lightning through her arm to her arm-cannon and modulating it just enough to force her arm to shoot into position, Zel bypassed bodily telegraphing altogether - even her own muscles hadn’t known what she intended to do until the moment she willed them to do it, and by the Dead Gods, it hurt like the seven hells.
But it was worth it.
Even as she willed both the charge in her Retributive Battery and the compressed mass of Fulgur in her Essentia Gut to flow from that organ into her left arm, the blinding heat of a lightning-bolt bleaching every conceivable sensation, it was worth it.
With a spark of thought she shoved back, dumping her kinetic battery into the golem’s arm. A barely-perceptible shove, yet it sent such a titan reeling. Always an iconic sight.
“Darkest hour, dead of night, this inner fire, stand and fight! These nerves of steel from dusk till dawn, this brave new world ripped and torn!”
She planted her feet and dug her heels in, stabbing the Butcher into the soil.
Gripping its handle with her right and resting her left wrist on its guard, she filled her lungs and with every ounce of strength she had, she invoked.
“BEAST-BUTCHERING ARTS: THUNDERCANNON!”
“Final stand, no remorse! This molten metal, blazing force! This call to arms, we arise!”