Chapter 1775: The Head of House Patrick – Part 6
Oliver was out of position, dangerously so, but not for a single mont did it seem as if he was in trouble. As soon as his allies began to move, Tavar’s n were immobilized. Their will to try and turn towards Oliver and chase him down only brought more quickly the enemies towards their backs.
In his little nest built upon dangerousness, there was a fortress that was almost invisible. It was a contradiction that a spectator of the battlefield would not be able to understand. How it was that a surrounded man was able to sit so comfortably.
There was just one foe that Oliver kept his eyes on, and he did so with such an arrogant expression that if Germanicus had not already been boiling over with rage, he would have exploded at the re sight of it.
As it happened, he exploded regardless.
“YOU!” He seethed. “YOU PEST! YOU VENOMOUS LITTLE WORM!”
“Venomous worm?” Oliver laughed. “I can’t say I’ve ever seen one of those. Perhaps you’re thinking of a millipede, good King Germanicus? Oh! Wait, a snake? You’re definitely thinking of a snake. That’s what they’re called, not venomous–”
If the hamr that ca towards Oliver’s head was anything to go by, the King did not appreciate the explanation Oliver had attempted to give. It was a neat dodge that Oliver gave the strike, neat enough that he found himself in a position to counterattack, without losing a step of flow.
He spun, daring to show his back to the enemy. The sort of risky maneuver that he would rarely even pull off in sparring, for it seed almost a mockery – but here, it drew blood. It nicked across King Germanicus’ shoulder, as if there were no better place for Oliver’s blade than there.
The King’s eyes bulged. Again he’d been caught, and again he didn’t understand why – neither truly did Oliver.
He felt weightless. As if anything that he did would have yielded the most exciting of results. It willed him to take more risks, and find trust in it, and that was exactly what Oliver did. He rushed in again, right into the zone that was the perfect range of Germanicus’ warhamr. He pressed the advantage, as if this fight were against a lesser man.
Germanicus parried, but found, to his dismay, that it was a losing parry. He’d lost another step of advantage in defending, and he was pushed back even further, even closer towards the point of total demise. Another strike ripped across his body, scarring his chest.
“YOU!” He cursed, fury over taking him. “YOU’RE WEAKER THAN ! WHY IS IT… WHY… CAN YOUR SWORD REACH ?”
It was a question that Oliver wished to know the answer to as well. He didn’t very well understand it either. At least not through logic. But that little sense that he had in himself, that arrogant overwhelm – that creature did know. It sailed through the skies with contemptuous ease, and it declared that right where Oliver currently stood, there were none that could defeat him.
The position was far too favourable. It was an environnt exclusively made for the creature that was Oliver Patrick. That incredible danger that brought about such a focus in him. Then the pressure that was put on King Germanicus from behind. It made Oliver feel as if every movent of his was christened with approval by the air itself. As if there was an invisible wind that lent him a temporary montum.
Whatever it was, it saw King Germanicus crushed. The King had his short window of opportunity to counterattack, and he’d already lost it entirely. He’d received wounds for his efforts instead. Now the defenders were once again closing in on him from both sides. Verdant was right at his back, bellowing orders for the incoming n to defend their General, and on the side opposite to them, another wave of defenders ca, to see King Germanicus crushed within its centre.
AWOOOOOO! AWOOOOOOOO! AWOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
A horn was blown, and all could tell what it ant, even if King Germanicus did not wish to believe it. With the last number of his n, he was forced to stage an inelegant retreat. With his tail between his legs, a man that was so mighty that none on the entire battlefield ought to have been able to match him, was once again brought low by that which none could understand.
And only now, seeing the King retreat, with the benefit of hindsight, could Oliver finally see the full effects of the little feeling that had overco him – that which his overwhelming impulse had supposedly seen, or sensed.
The southern wall that he’d given up was in no dire state. For none had known that Oliver had departed. The battle had continued there as Oliver Patrick was still waiting in the wings – they were unable to take advantage of his movent until the mont had co where they were certain he was elsewhere.
Now, when the window to push the northern wall did appear, they were once more unable to take advantage of it. For a total victory had been achieved on the eastern wall. Within the span of a short few exchanges, they had cleared out a mighty foe, and they made sure to shout it, and crush the enemy morale while they were at it.
From a distance, with the sort of adeptness that Minister Hod seed to wield, where he crushed multiple problems with a single solution, so too, sohow, beyond his own understanding, did Oliver Patrick manage to do the sa.
“My Lord,” Verdant said, his smile wide as he greeted him with a dip of his head. “A most heroic display. The n will be comforted in the knowledge that King Germanicus can not match you.”
“Well, I think that to be an illusion,” Oliver said. “Without proper preparation, that man would crush , a thousand tis out of a thousand. But sothing else works for this day, and I know it not.”
“That which works for you works on all days, my Lord,” Verdant said to him. “For this is the second ti you have t him, and the second ti you have matched him.”
“It’s not a thing I know firmly enough to dissect or to argue,” Oliver said. “By goodness, Verdant, I cannot believe what a fool I am. I need correcting. I need soone to tell off. This worked out today, but I ought never do that again…”
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