“Here we are.”
Thorne looked over his shoulder to the source of the voice. It was one of the soldiers in the front row behind him. “Quiet down soldier.” Thorne said in a low tone, “Now isn’t the time.”
The young cultivator nodded and silenced himself. Next to the soldier was a row of dozens of weaker cultivators. They were here for the duels, like Thorne and the team were. Instead, they—as well as the hundreds of non-cultivators behind them—were here for insurance.
Thorne grimaced as he surveyed the army on the other side of the square. ‘Well, if they do betray the agreement, it will be a hell of a battle.'
Lyra had opted to bring half their troops, which numbered only a few thousand. Many of their numbers had been brutalized by the sheer force of the enemy army. Only a thousand were with them now, and facing the troops in front of them made the force look like ants.
The opposition army was headed by one dozen cultivators. Thorne could feel the pressure that was given off by each of them—they were robust, likely as mighty as Thorne and the others. In the middle of the line of cultivators stood one man that Thorne dreaded. The action and turmoil that had taken place after this man’s departure had distracted Thoren, but now he was confronted with the fact that their enemy was a grade two cultivator. ‘And I don’t even know what his damn spectrum does.’ He thought with a scowl—seeing the silver crystal on the man’s forehead.
For his part, the city lord stood tall. He looked like a normal man of this region: tan skin, black hair, and a stout, compacted build. Nothing except for his spectrum crystal and general demeanor really set him apart from the common man.
As he stood facing them, Thorne shivered. ‘He stands like a king.’ He realized, ‘He stands like Vlad did.’
Behind the row of commanders were the weaker cultivators. Instead of the meager amount Thorne’s army possessed, the enemy army had hundreds of cultivators. They stood in neat, ordered rows and columns. Even from so far away, Thorne could see that they were organized in specific patterns based on their spectrums. Lyra had wanted to try something similar in the army structure, but alas, they didn’t have the numbers necessary to make it doable.
Behind the cultivators were the ordinary soldiers. Surprisingly, they weren’t as ordered as the cultivators. During the brief period where Thorne’s side won the momentum, the bulk of the ordinary soldiers were killed, while the survivors were left in a tattered mess. Some didn’t have weapons, while others wore tattered uniforms. The most significant difference was that the number of regular soldiers in the city lord’s army was less than that of Thorne’s own. ‘If only normal soldiers were more useful.’ Thorne thought with a suffering sigh. ‘It’s like we have all our pawns, but we’re facing a single queen and rook. Quality always beats quantity.’
Eventually, after minutes of facing off, the city lord motioned to one of his commanders. It was a beautiful woman that appeared to be in her young adulthood. She had magnificent brown hair that seemed to flow effortlessly as she walked forward. His pink eyes glazed over Thorne and the others, and a slight smirk played over her lips.
Gritting his teeth, Thorne waited as the women walked closer and closer. Only after being fifty get away from them did she stop. She stood with an air of authority and light connection as she looked over them; “I am the representative sent by city lord Kroll.” Her voice was feminine and high-pitched, though there was a noticeable tone of amusement—almost mockery—in her speech.
“The four duelists are asked to please step forward and challenge whomever they wish. City Lord Kroll demands that the duels will take place one at a time.”
Without saying anything else, she turned her back and walked back to the row of commanders. Throwing a look at his peers, Thorne signaled for them to go. All eyes watching, Thorne, Lyra, Zal, and Procka stepped forward to face the enemy army. The midday sun was directly above them and shone harshly down as they stepped through the sand-crusted sandstone road.
Fifty feet from the first line of commanders, Thorne and the others stopped. Lyra took a step forward to introduce herself as the speaker of the group: “We are the four duelists. It is my knowledge that all of the present commanders are amenable to a duel.”
In response, the city lord simply nodded.
“And will you welcome a duel, city lord Kroll?” Lyra asked, her tone cold.
Low murmuring sounded from both armies. They wanted to challenge the city lord! Ridiculous!
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Taking a calm step forward, the city lord looked at Lyra with an unreadable expression. “I will not stoop to your level. Only if one of you proves strength will I allow myself to kill you.”
Silence shadowed the armies as the murmurings stopped. Lyra, however, was not intimidated; she smiled as she met the city lord's silver eyes. “That is good, then. Let us start the duels now.”
She looked back to Zal, who had indicated earlier that he wished to duel first.
Stepping forward—clad in light white armor that had been tailored specifically for him—Zal looked out lazily at the gathered commanders.
‘Please be smart, Zal.’ Thorne prayed internally.
“Now let me see. Hmm, you, no, not you. You're too weak. Ah, how about you?” Thorne drawled, pointing to an orange spectrum cultivator. It was an older woman with greying hair. Her gaze was still fiery, though, and her orange eyes bore into Zal with an unfettered intensity.
No one spoke. Everyone’s eyes darted to the older orange spectrum cultivator, awaiting her response. “I accept.” She croaked out while stepping forward.
Almost instinctively, the two armies created a ring around the two duelists. It was a large area for dueling, but it meant that even on the brink of death no one was running away.
Zal and his opponent stood in the middle of the square facing off. Lazy amber eyes against hardened orange ones. In the woman’s hand, she held nothing, but Thorne did notice a pack around her waist that seemed to bulge. ‘Now, what does she have there?’ Thoren pondered, scratching his chin.
City lord Kroll stepped forward and held up his hands—gathering everyone’s attention. “Let the duel begin!”
There was no instant movement from either of them. Both took a few steps back and began to circle each other. There was no time limit on the fight, so probing was bound to occur. Zal pointed his spear toward the woman while his shield faced outward—to his left. It appeared strange for warriors with no experience in the shield, but Thorne knew its application. If the women attacked Zal’s right side—where his spear was—he could easily parry the blow. However, if he held the shield out facing toward the opponent, and she attacked to his left side, he wouldn’t be able to defend against it.
Thorne watched with bated breath as the two circled each other. He leaned over to Lyra, whispering in her ear, “Do we know anything about this woman?”
“No.” She responded, eyes on the duel, “She came back from the expedition with the city lord.”
Thorne gulped; the ones on the expedition were presumably stronger than the others.
As the two of them circled, the woman reached into her waste punch with her right hand. She grabbed something and pulled it out. Thorne tried to glance at it, but she held it with a closed fist—obscuring the item. Then, she threw it—energy coursing through the object!
‘A bomb!’ Thorne realized as he saw the small grey object fly through the air. Normal bombs were dangerous, even against cultivators, but an energy-infused bomb…It would probably be destructive beyond belief.
Luckily, Zal was not a weakling. His training and muscle memory showed as he raised the shield and blocked the bomb. Unfortunately for him, the bomb didn’t have a time limit for its explosion. Instead, it detonated on impact!
Smoke shrouded where Zal had been standing, and fire sizzled around him! Obscured by the smoke, Thorne couldn’t see his friend, but he did sense the amber energy around him. Thoren released a warry breath, ‘He’s alive.’
The woman didn’t seem to notice this and walked toward the smoky area without caution. A slight smirk was on her wizened face. ‘She probably thinks she either killed or wounded him. No shield from this plane should be strong enough to protect someone from that explosion.’ Thorne grinned slightly, ‘Luckily, we are not from this planet.’
Just as the lady got within ten feet of the smoke and fire, Zal exploded into action! He leaped out of the smoke, his amber shield charred but intact. He held his energy-infused spear before him, pointing right at the woman’s heart!
Panicked, the orange cultivator stumbled backward but managed to release a burst of flame from her hand toward Zal’s face! Rolling in midair, Zal dodged the attack and remained safe, but due to the time loss, he lost the opportunity to kill his enemy.
‘She’s good.’ Thorne realized, squinting at the now-calm cultivator, ‘Even when not expecting an attack, she reacted perfectly.’
Not settling for another round of circling and probing, Zal bounded forward with his spear held high and pointed low.
He kept his center of gravity low to the ground and bashed his shield toward the woman’s face! In this battle, he had to be aggressive and fight in close quarters, even though his spectrum was more suited for counterattacks and drawn-out battles. Against this opponent, that former advantage was voided.
Trying to hold on the best she could, the woman kept back peddling and throwing arcs of fire at Zal. No bombs were thrown; they couldn’t be after all; if she threw one of her bombs while fighting close to Zal, both of them would die.
Despite the constant counterattack, Zal was closing the distance quickly. His spear granted him range and versatility; something that the woman didn’t have.
Ducking under a line of sizzling flame, Zal stabbed forward and finally connected his attack! The spear pierced into the woman’s thigh, and blood spurted out from the wound! She cried out as she staggered backward and tried to reach for her bomb pouch! Zal was faster. With det movement, Zal dislodged his spear from the woman’s leg and swung it toward her stretching hand. He sliced it and cut off the woman’s hand, which had been inches away from the bomb pouch.
The woman’s eyes changed from terror to resolve as she looked down at her stump. Thorne’s heart stopped. Goosebumps crept up his skin as he looked into the woman’s eyes. “ZAL, RUN AWAY! RUN!” he screamed.
It was too late. The woman—now with a bloody, maleficent grin on her face—groped for Zal. Luckily, he escaped her embrace and tried to stumble away. It didn’t matter, a second passed, and energy gathered in the woman. Then she imploded in on herself, and all her stored energy was sent out in a suicide attack against Zal!