Chapter 26

The air was tense. No one moved. My eyes were fixated on Hans and his glowing axe. We’d heard of such things. Weapons from the Tower could grant those who wielded them special skills. However, our training had never elaborated on what. If I had to guess now, it was probably because such things altered the stats of the user, and pretty much everything about the Blessing had been kept secret from us till yesterday.

Whatever he was doing, one thing was certain. I had no doubt he’d be able to kill all three of us with a single blow. After all, Ryker had said Hans had beaten the tenth-floor boss.

“I guess Ryker was right about you.” I blurted aloud, the words coming even before my mind could process what I was saying. “You really are a coward.”

Hans’ eyes narrowed in my direction. “Was that Coal?” He spit on the ground, “yous wanten to die first then?”

“I’m just saying,” I tried to shrug, but every ounce of my body was primed and ready to fight. “You can’t even take on three Coal without resorting to cheap tricks? Guess you really are washed out.”

The glow on the axe faded, his muscle size returned to normal. He smirked, and then laughed.

“Alright boy.” He looked at the three of us and grinned, his eyes flashing with cruel intent. “If thas what you think. I was doing yous a favor, you know.” He lifted his massive axe with a single arm and rested it easily against his shoulder. Then he held out his left hand, and another axe, less ornate though equally as massive appeared. “Killing you with my grand sweep woulda been painless and quick. But yous wanna be all big and bad, yous can learn just how painful yous stupidity can be.”

The left held low, the massive, double headed weapon resting just slightly on the ground. He shifted his body weight as he looked at the three of us. “Come on then Coal,” he spit again, “I’ll dismember yous all, limb by limb.”

Nyle shot me a look, a very, ‘what in the name of the Tower are you doing’ type of look, and I gave him the faintest shrug. I had no doubt Hans could kill us at any minute. And we probably couldn’t run away from him either. Maybe, maybe one of us could get back to Ryker, but I doubted it. Hans was a washout, but he was still strong. And he’d spent far more time in the Tower, and on the first floor, than we had. This area probably felt like a second home to him, while for us, it was still unfamiliar, dangerous terrain.

Lyn, on the other hand, already had her arrow drawn back as she eyed Hans. He looked at her lazily, staring down the arrow as if it meant nothing to him. That look of boredom shook me more than his massive axes.

“If yous ain’t gonna start,” Hans said, faking a yawn, “maybe I’ll get bored and just kills yous all right here and now.” He stomped, and the ground at our feet shook. “Come on now, attack me.”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Lyn’s bow twanged as the arrow flew towards the man. At the same time I dashed to the right, and Nyle to the left. We’d trained in group tactics, both against other groups, and against singular foes. Our eight years of training had been intense, and so fresh out of it, we moved like clockwork.

Lyn dashed backwards, gaining herself more space as she sought cover from a tree, already knocking another arrow.

I winced as her first hit Hans in the chest. The man hadn’t even moved to deflect the incoming projectile. And when it sunk into massive chest, he didn’t even flinch. He left it there, sticking out of him, like it were nothing more than a new accessory to his armor.

“Right then boys,” he shifted his gaze, measuring mine and Nyle’s approach. “Which of yous wants to die first?”

I made eye contact with Nyle, our intentions were clear. My dueling dagger was drawn, blade down, in a reverse grip. My scimitar was held out in front, crossed with my dagger. The weapon was meant for fast, deadly slashes, and cross slashing gave me plenty of momentum to carve deep, painful blows.

I was on Hans’ left side, the side with his lowered axe. I was cautious about how well he could wield the weapon. The sheer size of it, I was certain it must have weighed at least fifty pounds, likely more. If I had to guess, Hans’ stats were in his strength. That was the only thing that made sense. But what did that even mean? I had no idea what points in the skills actually equated to. How big of a difference would the stats play in a battle?

Nyle’s right hand glowed with fire as he tossed his fireball, initiating our attack plan. He had another ball forming as the first flew, and Lyn, to her credit, used the opening as well to fire more arrows. I rushed in, my eyes fixated on Hans, watching for some sign of an attack, anything, from him.

The flames crashed against his right arm, the arrows sunk into his chest, and yet he didn’t move. In fact, he didn’t even seem to care. I closed the distance with him, my scimitar swinging down in a rapid slash into his left arm. The man didn’t even try to move. The whole while he watched me… and smiled.

He flexed his arm as my blade cut into the joint at his elbow. I’d been as precise as possible, intending to use my swift strike to sever the tendon. I didn’t care how strong he was, without the tendons on the inner side of the elbow, his strength wouldn’t matter, the arm would be useless. We had learned all of the weak points, the vital areas, of humans and humanoid type creatures.

But that training had been outside of the Tower. Those lessons had applied to normal situations. It was immediately clear, as his muscles clenched and bulged, and my scimitar was ripped from my grasp, that this situation was different. This wasn’t fighting against a normal foe. This wasn’t battling a normal enemy. Hans may look like us, may act and talk like us. But in that moment, I realized something. In this moment in time, Hans was a monster. And the gap in our levels alone, the difference of a brand-new climber, against someone who had cleared the tenth floor, was a difference pure skill wouldn’t allow us to overcome.

Or, more appropriately, our lack of experience against such foes, put us at a disadvantage that we hadn’t even realized when the battle started.

Commander Phyr’s voice echoed in my mind as my dagger moved, sluggishly slow. It caught the shaft of Hans’ axe as he swung it upwards. The force sent me flying twenty feet backwards. I would have flown more, had a tree not stopped my flight. My spine cracked against the wood, and I slumped to the ground.

In battle, experience and knowledge will most often decide the victor. Do not wager your life if you’re lacking in either.