152. [BOLERO] A Fair Fight (Part 2)

Skjal's sword instantly brightened the night with its jade-green radiance. It was already imbued—nay, overflowing—with Zealous energy straight out of the sheath, even before its wielder had cast any spells. Not at all surprising, due to the fact TYRFINGR itself was the spell.

Having never seen the sword in action (unless you counted that 'dud' during the Realmhunt!), Zacarias had nonetheless done some homework on the topic. Not like he had a choice in the matter, what with Skjal himself extolling his Instrument's virtues at every opportunity. For TYRFINGR had originally been a gift from Tyr Djofulsen, in recognition of Skjal's pre-transmutation accomplishments as a Kronheer soldier.

A proud and wholesome tale, one even an irreverent Manusya could get behind. That was, were it not for the exact nature of TYRFINGR and its powers…

As soon as the whole blade slid out into the open, Zacarias saw that every word of Skjal's boasts had been true. For beneath its green aura, TYRFINGR was 'bone'-chillingly skeletal in appearance—the result of being melded and hewn from Tyr Djofulsen's actual finger bones.

An Ascended Flesh-fiend, a Rakshasa queen and her pyromaniac son, and now a sword made out of an Immortal's bones. It turns out the two lowliest Realms are a good deal more alike than I ever would've guessed…

Yet somehow, TYRFINGR's skeletal design wasn't even its creepiest feature. That honor went to its magic, the gimmick behind which revealed itself via a set of Pathsighted countdowns:

[SKJAL SORENSEN: 3]

[ZACARIAS BORGES-JUVENTUS: 3]

Both men's HP bars disappeared, to be replaced by two simple numbers—one above the barracuda's head and another in the corner of Zacarias's own vision, indicating that he'd been 'chosen' as Skjal's partner in a deadly game. As he understood it, the two of them were now locked in a suicide pact, with the countdowns showing the number of 'clean hits' either of them could take before TYRFINGR declared a 'loser'.

Such was the creepy sword's creepy magic. Every time it was called into battle, it would claim a life without fail—whether that be its wielder's or his direct opponent's. In order to win, Zacarias must knock Skjal's countdown to zero before the latter could do the same to him.

OP and 'unbalanced' as fuck in the wrong hands, the Manusya mused as only he could. Thank the gods buddy here is more brawn than brains—and a little too honest for his own good.

Indeed, in Skjal's honest hands, TYRFINGR's oppressive gimmick seemed almost honorable. Throw all attributes and parameters out the window; first to three hits wins. A 'fair fight' in every sense of the phrase.

As Zacarias saw it, the drawback of TYRFINGR's magic was mainly twofold.

First, it necessitated a hyper-focus on a single target. The duelists themselves couldn't touch each other's HP, but they were still vulnerable to outside interference. A significant limitation, considering so many enemies on Mount Meru liked to attack in groups. Case in point: the most recent Realmhunt where Serac, Zacarias, and even the Frostkrill conspired to flatten Skjal before he could get one hit in.

Second, and more relevant to the current situation, the nature of the duel heavily favored quantity over quality. Whoever could attack faster, more often, and from farther held the clear advantage. In that sense, the NINEFOLD master rather liked his chances against a straightforward sword-and-buckler type.

But whatever advantage I have is thanks to Skjal spilling the beans before the fight even started. It takes a lot of guts (or incredible stupidity; maybe both) for him to unsheathe TYRFINGR against anyone who understands its gimmick.

The Manusya's eyebrows, however, remained completely flat throughout his less-than-glowing assessment of his opponent. Skjal might be dumb and too honest for his own good, but Zacarias had all the time in the world for the dumb, honest, and brave.

All the more reason to show the same bravery in turn. To that end, Zacarias shifted from his defensive stance to then unleash the duel's opening move:

[Dreamer Aspect: THE FIRST DAO—STEEL OF REFINEMENT]

Zacarias karate-chopped the air, sending forth a purple wave of energy. It was one of the rare few 'ranged' options available to a NINEFOLD master, but he didn't have high hopes for the attack to land.

Sure enough, Skjal blocked it easily with ROUNDEL, letting out a grunt of contempt as he did. Zacarias had anticipated this—had already 'followed it up' by closing the gap with [Lance]. Then, even before [Steel]'s energy particles fully disappeared, he transitioned into a powerful headbutt.

[Dreamer Aspect: THE SIXTH DAO—HAMMER OF JUDGMENT]

Zacarias hadn't had the chance to charge [Hammer] for as long as he usually would've liked. No matter. The aim hadn't been to Poise-break, nor did he expect the attack itself to go through either.

True to form, Skjal quickly shifted his buckler to protect his own head, thereby negating the second part of Zacarias's combo. But this was exactly what the NINEFOLD master was after—for ROUNDEL to be taken out of the picture, leaving the rest of a barracuda's body wide open. He didn't even need a named technique for the next move. A simple fist would do—a bar-fight punch right in the gut.

Zacarias threw the punch at nearly the same moment he'd headbutted his opponent's shield. As such, he did it mostly blind, but as soon as his fist made contact, he knew that something wasn't right. No give, no feedback, and indeed barely any palpable impact. Then, as his gaze shifted downward, he saw exactly what had gone wrong.

For Skjal had 'blocked' the punch with the pommel of TYRFINGR. And embedded in the underside of said pommel, so small and unobtrusive as to be all but invisible to the casual observer, was a jade-and-white piece of [Abyssal Plate].

Motherfucker, Zacarias swore inwardly, even as he accepted his defeat in the current exchange. Before this moment, he'd never stopped to consider the apparent absence of an [Abyssal] armor on Skjal's person, assuming it to be just another example of the man's brash and honest personality. How wrong he'd been on both counts!

Having spent and wasted his elaborate combo, now it was Zacarias who'd left himself vulnerable to Skjal's counter. The latter kept it economical—a backhand slash that followed naturally from the pommel block. TYRFINGR's skeletal blade cut across the Manusya's midsection, spraying Zealous energy in lieu of physical injury.

[ZACARIAS BORGES-JUVENTUS: 3 -> 2]

Skjal had scored the first hit. And if Zacarias were to spend any more time in melee range, he was sure to eat the rest of a swordsman's combo. He followed his instincts and backstepped to safety, hoping to buy some space to regroup and reconsider his strategy.

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But his opponent had other ideas. Despite the distance, Skjal the swordsman pressed the attack anyway, first by launching ROUNDEL for another boomerang throw:

[Auxiliary Technique: GEIRSKOGUL]

Zacarias arched his back and felt the buckler whizz past just above his nose. He realized mid-dodge that Skjal intended to give him a taste of his own medicine: ranged opener into gap-closer into melee finisher. Sure enough, the barracuda man and his glistening fangs were already upon Zacarias by the time the latter managed to straighten.

A diagonal slash from the left shoulder. Zacarias side-stepped, ducking beneath TYRFINGR's arc as he did.

This was almost instantly followed by an inside thrust, aimed once more at Zacarias's midsection. He responded by pirouetting back to his starting position, the better to launch a counter from the opposite side.

But Skjal wouldn't let him, now angling TYRFINGR into a broad sweep to catch out a cornered foe. To this, Zacarias squeezed every bit of his NINEFOLD agility and jumped, clearing the blade altogether.

That's three, Zacarias thought even as he contorted in mid-air. Three whiffs following that big opener. Surely, buddy would've run out of Stamina by now. Which means I can safely—

Wham!

Zacarias lost his balance as something heavy and metallic smashed into his back. It was ROUNDEL making its return trip from [Geirskogul]—and by gods, did it stick the landing!

[ZACARIAS BORGES-JUVENTUS: 2 -> 1]

As soon as he felt his feet touch the roof, Zacarias scrambled out of TYRFINGR range. He was momentarily overcome by a kind of desperation he'd rarely felt against any adversary, let alone a straightforward sword-and-buckler type. Yet, by now, he knew that he'd been woefully wrong about Skjal Sorensen.

Fucker used his sword as a feint to draw me into the buckler's flight path. Dude may be dumb and honest, but he's also wily as fuck!

Across the roof, Skjal the wily warrior looked rather pleased with himself, the corners of his fanged mouth twisting into a mocking smile. Zacarias instantly saw red, forced to swallow the bitter taste of his own medicine.

But it was also the kick up the arse he needed. For not only had he underestimated his opponent, he'd also overcomplicated his own approach to the duel.

I could learn a thing or two from Skjal—or from whom I'd imagined Skjal to be. First to three hits. The objective couldn't be simpler, yet here I am overthinking everything and trying to be too cute. Nah, what this job calls for is good, honest aggression.

It was time to flip the mask—from laughing Buddha to angry Prajna. Up to now, Zacarias had been responsibly conservative with his use of [Sinner Aspect], limiting it to one- or two-second bursts. Well, all that was out the window now. He would need all 15 seconds if he wanted to score three quick hits against an opponent of Skjal's caliber.

No time to waste. Zacarias opened round three with:

[Sinner Aspect: THE EIGHTH DAO—HALBERD OF TRANSGRESSION]

The [Sinner] upgrade to [Lance] drove its practitioner forward with such unbridled force that it atomized him into Martial-red vapor. Zacarias's incorporeal form ripped straight through Skjal's body before rematerializing behind his back. The ultimate gap-eraser! The barracuda tried a pirouette of his own to keep up, but he could hardly match the speed and agility of a [Sinner]-buffed pugilist.

[Sinner Aspect: THE THIRD DAO—FIST OF ERUPTION]

[SKJAL SORENSEN: 3 -> 2]

Zacarias was finally on the board! To Skjal's credit, however, the barracuda man kept his cool and recovered swiftly. He spun to face Zacarias from a crouching position, gripping TYRFINGR for an upward slash as he did.

But whatever the swordsman wanted to do, it made no difference to Zacarias at this stage. He was in charge of the proceedings now, and he'd be a right fool to relinquish his initiative. Throwing caution to the wind, he answered Skjal's renewed aggression with an attack of his own.

[Sinner Aspect: THE SEVENTH DAO—SCYTHE OF ELIMINATION]

A sweeping kick to send out a wide arc of red energy. Skjal had been first, but Zacarias had the far greater reach. For a split Ksana, the barracuda froze, seemingly caught between two minds. He then switched into a defensive maneuver, namely by turning his sword onto its pommel.

It did its job, erasing [SCYTHE] in an instant. But a familiar 'crack!' told Zacarias that the absorbed damaged had drained the last of the [Abyssal Plate]'s [Durability]. I've got you now, bitch! Zacarias smelled blood, closing in a second time and slashing with:

[Sinner Aspect: THE FIRST DAO—EDGE OF RUINATION]

[SKJAL SORENSEN: 3 -> 1]

All even; last hit wins! Now both combatants were on the brink of victory or defeat—but only one chased the former, while the other sweated the latter. Skjal turned to run, intent on creating enough distance to wait out his opponent.

Zacarias couldn't fault the decision. For he too had shared the gimmick of his Instrument with his Kronvakt colleague (it was only fair, wasn't it?). Presently, only a mere few seconds remained before [Sinner Aspect]'s forced cooldown and the accompanying Poise-break. Therefore, if Skjal could just hold out for a few more seconds, he'd guarantee himself an easy hit on a defenseless foe.

What Skjal didn't know, however, was just how many tricks Zacarias still had up his sleeve. A good sport he might be, but he'd be a right fool to let the whole cat out of the bag!

[Sinner Aspect: THE FIFTH DAO—LARIAT OF INVERSION]

A NINEFOLD master's shoulder was normally reserved for some hard, no-nonsense tackling. When imbued with VISAGE's Martial energy, however, it became a launching pad—fit for a relentless pursuer ready to grab victory by the horns and never let go.

Or, in this case, to grab a scurrying guppy and pull it back into certain death. Zacarias threw both of his arms forward, which stretched and joined into a red band. [Lariat]'s loop grabbed hold of Skjal by the waist and pinned his TYRFINGR in place, before springing back to the source with blinding speed.

[Sinner Aspect: THE SIXTH DAO—HAMMER OF DEMOLITION]

Guppy, meet the forehead of death. Skjal's off-hand was still free, and he put up a fight to the very end, raising ROUNDEL to block the headbutt. Unbeknownst to him, however, the [Sinner] version of [Hammer] came with a secondary AOE that followed the initial impact. And it was this that got through for the third and final hit:

[SKJAL SORENSEN: 1 -> 0]

Splat!

With a meaty burst of Zealous-green energy, Skjal's physical form positively exploded into Souldust. It was a decidedly more 'gory' effect than most other smites—yet another example of TYRFINGR's creepy magic. But Zacarias wasn't one to be put off by gore. All he cared about was the duel's outcome—and perhaps also the Karmic reward that came with it:

[25,102 क]

Karmic Levels were harder to come by the higher you climbed. Skjal had no doubt been saving diligently and looking forward to that bump-up from KL-58 to 59. Well, it was all Zacarias's now—and boy, if it wasn't one of the more satisfying 'meals' he'd had in Pretjord!

Unfortunately, Zacarias couldn't savor the victory for long. Almost as soon as he'd dealt the smiting blow, time ran out on [Sinner Aspect], thereby forcing him into Poise-break. And now, he finally came to rue the earlier venue change.

Oh shit, he murmured inwardly as he dropped to his stomach, I'm slipping…

Indeed, with all the strength gone out of his body, Zacarias had no way to maintain purchase upon the Apical Bough's curved roof. At this rate, he'd surely slip, slide, and tumble all the way to a lethal fall. So much for victory—and for all that hard-earned Karma!

But that was when a hand reached down and grabbed his wrist.

It wasn't a particularly firm hand, nor was there much strength behind its grip. But it nevertheless managed to hold, as if anchored by something far sturdier than itself. At any rate, it'd halted Zacarias's descent—a miraculous and utterly unforeseen rescue in the circumstances.

"I've got you, Mister Zacko," Petter Svensen called down from above, voice strained by effort. "Hang on, now. We can't have you dropping out before the big boss fight, can we?"

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