Book 2, Chapter 117 - A Desperate Battle (1/2)

Chapter 117 - A Desperate Battle

Frost de Winter was like a statue made from a ten thousand year old glacier. Anything that dared to get near him was frozen solid. He was too strong. His presence alone filled the others with fear and made their hearts race. For Gabriel, Claudia and Drake this was their first time standing off against a master demonhunter. They felt hopeless against his indomitable power.

Were they just weak? No. Yet they were defeated in no time, with little effort!

Drake was already out of the fight. The blood he puked up was thick and mixed with flecks of ice. Puffs of steaming air fought through his clattering teeth. “Fuck,” he said through mouthfuls of blood. “This asshole is strong.”

In fact, surviving a direct blow from Frost proved how tenacious the soldier’s body really was. Had it been Claudia or Gabriel in his position, things would have been much worse.

“You go.” Cloudhawk helped Drake over to the other two. He turned to face Frost, pulling his sword free. It whipped threateningly through the air and he stood defiantly before the man with his sword pointed toward the ground. “I’ll hold him off.”

Hold him off?

They wagered fighting the master demonhunter one on one gave Cloudhawk a twenty percent chance of surviving for any length of time, much less delaying him. Leaving him here was the same as leaving him to die. Neither Drake nor Gabriel would accept it, and the thought was completely out of the question for Claudia. Although her enmity for Cloudhawk ran deep, she wasn’t about to let someone she hated help her run.

“You’ve grown quickly. Were you not born to such… humble resources, perhaps you wouldn’t have lost so easily the last time we met.” Frost ignored the other three. His piercing eyes were fixed solely on Cloudhawk, and he spoke with a voice cold as the grave. “No wonder my master and Selene look so highly upon you. Such a pity you were born in the wrong place, with no road to salvation. There is no place for someone like you in our holy domain.”

“Chasing that nonsense is worth less than dogshit. Wait, let me rephrase; you and what you stand for are worth less than dogshit.” Cloudhawk shot a glance toward the others, trying to get them to leave. It wasn’t some altruistic notion, just that he knew he was the one Frost was after. Perhaps he’d let them get away if Cloudhawk could keep his attention. He couldn’t hide from his past anymore. Cloudhawk wrapped his hands around the hilt of Quiet Carnage and dug his feet in against the chill wind. “Tell me what you think of my sword before you kill me.”

“Still so chatty, even in the face of death. You haven’t changed at all.”

Frost leapt forward amidst a surge of cold. The air became thick with swirling snowflakes and he charged at Cloudhawk like an avalanche. The knight commander swung his silvery spear through the air, which summoned a tornado of icy energy that tore toward his foe.

Frost was a different breed from others Cloudhawk fought. Most shot off at the mouth and kept a trick or two up their sleeves in a fight. Frost was a man of few words, and when he committed to a fight he came out with full force.

Cloudhawk planted his feet. Grains of yellow sand rose ten meters around, and with his left hand he guided them into a flurry. With his right hand, he hacked at the encroaching torrent of cold. It was obvious right away the difference between the two men. Frost’s power instantly overwhelmed Cloudhawk and all the sand around him was frozen into clumps. The tornado of icy fury charged at the wastelander.

“Die!”

Frost was right behind it, thrusting his spear toward Cloudhawk’s head.

Before Frost’s spear found its mark, and as the tornado of energy descended upon him, Cloudhawk’s body was already covered in a thin film of ice. It was getting more difficult to move, even shuffle his feet. He couldn’t protect himself if he could hardly lift his arms.

Cloudhawk didn’t know when he was going to die, but he was sure as hell not going to let it be at this asshole’s hands. The cold was creeping through him, so bad that his blood had started to stagnate in his veins. But in response, a power from in his blood broke free and got it moving again. Even though he was covered in ice, he did not feel it stifling him anymore. Trespasser, it had to be. Its effect on his body was growing more apparent, and this reaction specifically was new.

Although he didn’t like the idea of being any less than fully human, Cloudhawk had to acknowledge how useful the virus was. It gave him the time he needed to mount a defense. When he lifted his head, a crimson fire smoldered deep in his eyes. A sinister power slithered into Frost’s mind as they locked eyes, until those same fires flickered in Frost’s crystalline blue gaze.

This was a psychic attack!

Frost was distracted, blocking himself from the assault while Cloudhawk whipped Quiet Carnage at his spear. The knight commander was knocked back, landing several meters away and swaying unsteadily. For the briefest moment there was a shadow of doubt on Frost’s face. What did I just see?

Cloudhawk was already breathing heavily. It all happened in seconds, but the toll was staggering. It was the same mental assault he’d used on Gabriel, but its effects were greatly diminished against Frost. Likely it was because of the great difference in their psychic capabilities.

Gabriel and Claudia stepped forward to join Cloudhawk by his side.

“Why didn’t you leave?”

“If we’re leaving, we leave together!”