Chapter 77 - Seventy-Five (1/2)

POV: Leonel

I see the two creatures emerge from the crowd of misty black creatures and immediately knew they held another level of danger; as Thilgon did, exchanging a quick glance at me.

In an unspoken truce we each take one to deal with, spreading a little more apart as my golden eyes focus on the creature in front of me.

I analyze him, the way he walked to the way his clawed hand went to the side to unsheath his sword, his movements wide and firm, smooth yet not slow.

From being so tall he was bound to have a very long reach, which only gets worse when the point a long big sword at me, the menacing blade covered in a green aura that swirled like smoke around the silver edge.

With white eyes were partially covered by the helmet, giving him a threatening look as the sharp edge framed his eyes into an angry expression.

Out of nowhere he starts swinging the blade as if weighted nothing, the speed and reach surprising me as I dodge back, only to have to sidestep him.

I was trying to keep my distance by using some range attacks when I hear Thilgon scream at me:

”Weak spot over the back!” I use a bright ball of light to blind the knight as I step back, his blade almost reaching, passing beside me.

I narrow my eyes at that and with a flick of my wrist a golden arrow formed on the curve of my sword and shot out from my blade, but on contrary of my expectations the knight didn't dodge nor slashed at my attack, he simply received it head-on as if it was nothing, the arrow piercing deep into his shoulder right between the armor plates, however ending being melted away by the goopy black substance as it consumed it like acid.

He advances again, his sword held high as he swings it down while running, the long big blade carrying the destructive power of a mace under the strength of his movements as he swung it around, and out of options since my arrows had no effect nor stunned him as I hoped for, I blocked his blade with mine, a contrasting blow between a silver blade against a goopy long mass.

One of the runes that I had imprinted along the sword starts to shine and burn with a shisshing sound, making the edges of the blade shine with a golden glint, only for my eyes to go up were the blades touched and see why the rune reacted; his sword was melting mine!

Not wanting to test my fate and have that weapon touching my body I swing the blade sideways, taking it away from an attacking pose and managing to back off.

Only for him to follow in persuade.

I suppress the annoyance I felt as I block another strike, deepening the damage on my blade. Knowing that in close combat I was bound to lose, not wanting to risk touching him if the same substance that the blade was on his body, I once more drive him away, but this time I pull the blade up and make it shine blindingly in front of him, giving me enough time to widen the space between us, going up the wooden balcony and sheathing my sword, no point it keeping it up only to be further damaged than it was already.

I take out my new weapon, still unsure if it would work, but finding the opportunity to test it out in the current predicament; even more because it was a ranged weapon.

I take it out from under my tunic; a long, whip silver chain.

It was difficult to maneuver like any whip, worsening with its ledge and weight, but this weapon didn't need to be as accurate as my arrows; its ledge and material were the important points.

Simply because, in every metal hoop, there was a rune engraved in each one of it, the strongest the higher it went.

As the knight once more rushed forward, clattering metal and bringing an acrid smell with him, and was about to reach the first step up to the balcony I rotate my wrist in a circular motion, bringing the entire whip-chain in the air over my head, a silver line chasing after oneself like a serpent going after her own tail, spinning as a hurricane as the speed increases, joining with my air maneuvering, the strong wind holding him back and locking him in place, unable to advance.

Only those attentive and observant enough would be able to see that, from time to time, the tip of the whip would slash out, but not eager for blood, it would actually hit the wood and the ground, seemingly rather clumsily, perhaps the effect of being spin too fast, slashing out from time to time with the strength of the movement.

And yet, on the contrary, every move was deliberate and intended for every place it hit the chain left an imprint behind, almost unseeing by those involved in the battle, the shape of the rune imprinted on where it touched.

I stop rotating the chain suddenly, but I do not give the knight enough time to move further than one step as, with both my hands, I stretch the ledge of the whip in front of me, the last hoop being firmly gripped under my palm as I infuse it with my energy.

”Bloom of One Hundred Hits!”

The places I hit before and had a rune imprinted on them now shone a bright golden light, looking as if a bud had bloomed with pure sunlit as from its center hundreds of golden arrow shootout and flow like sparrows into his direction to sink in deep in the knight, coming from above, bellow, surrounding him, having his figure covered from head to toe in no time, damaging his armor along the way.

And yet, with a furious impulse, he melted the arrows once more, leaving a scar-less body in front of me; but that was to be expected, I wasn't worried about doing meaningless damage to him, but finding his weak spot on the back, that's why I attacked using a magic with such a widespread.