Chapter 82 Triumphing In Two Challenges (1/2)
Creaks produced by wooden joints of life-sized puppets signified the increasing amount of wooden men opposing Ricky and Agnes' entrance in the place.
They barricaded them within a circle of their own numbers, reaching to an overwhelming one hundred warriors that each possessed a strength at the eighth grade of Skin Refinement. Ricky dodged attacks from several of his foes on the front line, gritting his teeth in frustration at the absurd situation. If he were only to battle ten, then he would have cleared the obstacle right away. This many men were too much of a danger, even for him. He had to move out of harm's way quickly than risk a defeat after attempting to engage in a battle on his own.
Another rush of wooden arms and legs strived to wound his body. His nimble form allowed him to evade and buy him enough time to cast a sidelong glance at Agnes, sending out a sign to unleash a coordinated attack. She nodded with muted agreement before Ricky unsheathed his long saber and simultaneously activated the Sixth Strike of Nonuple Flame Strike.
In a blinding flash, six individual flames scattered in all directions and served as the pair's shield. The scalding heat emanating from the ball of light warded of their adversaries, causing them to be wary of making careless approaches near the two's protected space.
A crack of a long, white whip followed shortly after; Agnes conducted her weapon, manifesting the Octuple Waves as a second layer of cover from the almost indestructible army.
An uncertain atmosphere befell on the troops, hesitance hindering them from mindlessly surging forward. Ricky smirked and took advantage of their momentary weakness. A war cry ripped from his throat, his arms tensing in effort as he wielded his saber with mastery and precision while the flames remorselessly followed up his initial assaults. Agnes fought by his side, mercilessly lashing away as her waves hurtled towards other overlooked enemies.
The opposite elements synchronized in such rehearsed perfection that greatly reflected the compatibility of its commanders' fighting styles. Unfortunately, they were in collision with a legion sporting physiques stronger than that of normal humans. None of their mighty prowess had gone through their wooden surfaces as previously wished; it only left slight cracks and gashes as proof of their charges.
Stepping back, Ricky appraised the subjects with a frustrated glare, ”The wood is too thick and hard. My saber is the intermediate Mortal Level weapon, one that can even slash through heavy lumps of iron, yet all it does to them is inflicting a few cuts.” He appraised them, his fist slowly tightening its hold on his sword as he prepared to face another reformation of the Wooden Men Array. Agnes' gaze flickered to him for a brief instant before it focused back on their foes in deep concentration.
”It's not that it's hard; these beings are under the protection of a powerful array. Weapons at the advanced stage of the Mortal Level would even be unable to completely destroy them,” she explained in chorus with the onset of sprinting forms thirsting for their utter annihilation. She manipulated her whip like an extension of her arm; ceaselessly hitting her desired targets one by one with unrestrained force.
”If the array is so powerful, these things are bound to have a weakness, right?” Ricky grunted, kicking back a wooden soldier that had grasped his ankle. It flung away from him, covering the distance of a few feet as it smashed a number of his colleagues along the way. Humming in reply, Agnes hid a smirk as she pondered over his question.
”Yes, you're correct. They do have one weakness...” She snapped her arm back in a quick gesture, smacking a combatant right on its head with the tail end of her whip, effectively cutting it off of its life. ”Their heads contain their cor
ponents steadily marched in the direction of their path, reacting in retribution to their blood thirst. Gripping the hilt of his sword tightly, Ricky shouted an order, ”Agnes! I'll distract them, so go and hit their cores.”
Her agreement was not declared by words but by the graceful rhythm they had fallen into. They rallied blows upon blows on their enemies, eradicating them in an outbreak of cooperated motions and manoeuvres.