Book 2, Chapter 79 - Emergent Misfortune (1/2)

Chapter 79 - Emergent Misfortune

“Drake! Drake! What’s the matter?!”

His three followers hurried over, and when they stooped over they saw something wriggling under his flesh. It was like there were countless worms wriggling inside him. He vomited out a mouthful of blood mingled with wood splinters, which seemed to make him feel better. Drake no longer seemed in danger of dying from the bizarre attack.

“That bastard! We can’t let him get away with this!”

Anger flared among Drake’s underlings. Tragically, Cloudhawk found himself the focus of their rage. He cursed his luck. It was a bet, wasn’t it? Was he going to lose even though he won the wager?

Although Drake was the strongest of the group, Cloudhawk was still afraid. If he got up and tried to fight there was no guarantee they might escape. As for the other three, Cloudhawk had some tricks up his sleeves but it likely wasn’t enough to give him a serious edge. Claudia, Gabriel and him could take one each. At least one-on-one they might be able to hold out for a while.

But would the other two play along?

Cloudhawk wracked his brain, looking for some silver-tongued strategy to convince them to help. He turned to give it a shot - but they weren’t there. He spied two figures racing off into the trees like a pair of frightened rabbits.

All of the wrath of these men was centered on Cloudhawk. What more perfect opportunity would there be to run? Gabriel he might have figured, but Claudia, too? She wised up quick!

Of course the situation was hardly something he could balk at. Neither Gabriel nor Claudia would look back at this moment and feel guilty. There was nothing to feel bad about – it wasn’t like any of them were friends. As far as they were concerned the others couldn’t die quick enough.

If the roles were reversed, Cloudhawk would have torn off into the forest faster than either of them.

It was too late to say anything.

Once the three men surrounded him the first punch came quickly. Cloudhawk threw his arms up crosswise before him, flexing as hard as he could to protect himself. The blow knocked him back several meters and his legs carved a pair of deep trenches in the ground. Before Cloudhawk could even pull his legs out the second soldier whipped a kick at his face.

The ground exploded into a cloud of grit and soil.

Cloudhawk was hurled into the air. As he floated helplessly, the third soldier appeared overhead with the heel of his foot aimed at his skull. At the same time the other two were catching up and launching follow-up attacks. It was a perfectly executed pincer attack, orchestrated from the start.

“You fucks aren’t going to get me that easy!”

Power flowed through the phase stone, instantly ripping Cloudhawk from the material plane. All three men converged on him at the same instant, but slipped right through his incorporeal body. Instantly they were a tangle of limbs as the first guy crashed into the third one’s shoulder, the second one punched the third guy in the chest, and the third one rammed into his companion with a shoulder smash.

They hit each other so hard they were all flung away, like a human grenade.

Meanwhile Cloudhawk calmly floated back down to earth, hovering a few centimeters above the ground like some sort of specter. He didn’t look any different from before, but his hair and clothes floating around him like he was under water.

“What now, huh?” Cloudhawk was becoming more proficient with the stone each passing day. It was good for more than just burglary, as he was discovering. It gave him an incredible edge in a fight. “You assholes can’t even touch me, you think you stand a chance? I suggest you get the fuck outta here before you make me mad.”

“He has a relic!”

Three angry faces glared at him. No wonder Cloudhawk was able to harm their leader.

Drake was conflicted. He’d underestimated this no-name prick, underestimated demonhunter tactics in general. With his mysterious relic Cloudhawk had punched through his iron-like body as though it was nothing. Drake was struck by the grating realization that he could be ten times stronger than he was today, and the guy would still have won that bet.

That was no normal attack. It was like no style he’d ever seen before, but it was definitely more than Drake could handle.

How could he be this strong? Does no amount of hard work and training overcome a demonhunter’s natural abilities? Gods, we are all your devout soldiers. Why do they deserve all your blessings? What makes them so special?!

He felt wronged, angry, envious. He was both defeated and unwilling to admit defeat. It surged through him like a torrent of fire, stoking his fury ever higher.

Once Cloudhawk saw that his three attackers were not rushing back in, he knew his display had worked. He allowed himself to take a breath.

“Wolfe, Jaga, Tigris – stand down. Leave him to me.”

Cloudhawk’s face froze. No!

Drake stood up and jumped in one fluid movement. A crater was left behind. When he came crashing back down the earth rattled and a shockwave burst out. His glare was so sharp Cloudhawk could almost feel its bite. “You didn’t really succeed. That means I win this bet.”

Fuck you, that’s some bullshit right there. It’s at least a tie…

Cloudhawk didn’t even have a chance to open his mouth. Drake’s meaty fists came at him like a stampede, one after the other in a series of blows he could hardly see. At least punches a second, and each one caused the air to hiss in protest.

Fast! Strong!

In a blink there were several dozen fists pummeling him, and each one had the force of twenty tons behind it. To Cloudhawk it would feel like being smacked with an elephant, if it weren’t for the stone. It was not a problem to him, except that Drake wasn’t slowing down. Quite the opposite, in fact, as he quickly ramped up to twenty punches a second. They came so fast they actually started to compress the air, and as it thickened friction began to heat it all up. Temperature rose sharply, like a bomb moments from detonation.

Ten punches. Fifty punches. A hundred – two hundred! Eventually licks of fire were actually dancing through the air, whipping among the turbulence like red-hot knives!

Drake was no demonhunter. What he was doing was purely a result of his speed, strength and ferocity. He had to be using martial skills Cloudhawk had no concept of to allow himself to move so fast and punch so hard. By the time the flurry of punches had reached a hundred, each one had more pure force behind it than Cloudhawk cold fathom. This spectacular scene was a result.