Luke frowned at his opponent.
So this is the Son of Ares. And likely the guy Cybele was telling about.
The goddess had warned him about an Aresson. That he was powerful and that Luke needed to watch out for him. She had also ntioned Theseus in the sa breath, and while Luke knew the son of Poseidon would be a brutal fight, he also felt that with the right tools, he could beat Theseus. Granted, Luke was confident for the sa reason Cybele hadnt been too concerned about the Son of Poseidon being an obstacle; he lacked determination.
Moros was different.
That much was apparent from a single glance. While all the other contestants were wearing glimring armor and wielding perfectly polished weapons, Moross equipnt looked like he had peeled it off a corpse. Everything from his two axes to his ruby armor was covered in dents and scratches and caked with an ugly brown and all too familiar residue dried blood.
More than the axes and the armor, it was the marks on Moross body that gave Luke pause.
Scars littered his skin, starting at his fingers and running up the length of his arms, to the sides of his neck, and even to his face. Thin and glossy stripes where blades had nicked his flesh, circular marks from where spears had poked him through, and patches of rough and oddly textured skin from what Luke could only assu were burns. There wasnt an inch of skin, both visible and spared of the scars.
Obviously, gods are all different people with different attitudes. Aeolus was a cannibal eating the souls of the dead. Zeus seems pretty reasonable, all things considered. Poseidon kind of cos across as an idiot. What kind of person must Ares be to force his kid to live like this? Or is Moros just anti-healing?
If he drank one fast enough, a mortal-tier healing potion would have fixed most of these scars. As a child of a god, he should have had access to such low-level resources. Even the Society had healing potions for sale. For him not to
Lukes frown deepened.
What, do you not like what you see? Moros teased.
Luke stayed silent.
Moross grin grew wider. Youre one of those serious and boring types, right?
Luke raised his sword in response. Shaking his head, Moros stepped to the left and slowly began to circle Luke. His smile didnt slip for even a mont. Despite his arrogant attitude, Luke could tell that Moros was taking their fight seriously.
I dont know what he can do, but he shouldnt know about either. Im sure he was one of the people who got a scroll after climbing the pyramid, so I need to watch out for fire. Hes a Spartan, so chances are he can do the sa thing that super cautious guy in the forest did, so I'll watch out if his muscles start bulging. What else, though?
With his technique active, Luke could see every step the son of Ares took before he even took it. For a mont, Luke debated using Foresight of the End to end the battle. If he tid it right, Luke could catch Moros by surprise, and this would be over without risking anything. However, doing that would leave him drained of mana, and if that happened, he was as good as eliminated.
So, Luke just watched and waited for Moros to make a move. The mont Moros committed to an attack would be when Luke used his technique to bring the fight to an end. But the mont never seed to co.
Luke resisted the urge to make his annoyance known. Just what the hell is it with Spartans taking their sweet ti with everything?
Their strange stalemate went on for a minute. Then, for two. With every second that ticked by, the situation began to feel increasingly absurd. Around them, the other contestants were bitterly attacking each other, and the two of them were stuck playing a weird ga of chicken.
I at least have the excuse of having a technique that works better when I counter. What are you doing?! Luke glared at him spitefully.
Muttering, fuck this, under his breath, Moros was the first to break. He tossed an ax at Lukes face.
Luke grinned in relief even as he dodged at the last possible mont. Lifting his arm, he funneled a healthy amount of mana through the spell mark and doused his opponent in fla. He didnt expect the gout of fire to harm him, for they all should have had so protection against heat. But that protection ca at the cost of mana, and the less of it Moros had, the better for him. Luke realized a second too late that hed made a terrible mistake.
Moros didnt try to get out of the way. He didnt try to activate a talisman. He didnt even retaliate. He did the opposite.
His ruby armor fell from his fra, exposing his torso to the air. Luke caught a brief glimpse of Moross mutilated and scarred body before it was drowned in a fire of his own making.
What is he
Lukes world erupted in searing, all-consuming, and sudden pain.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Luke thought, panic threatening to overtake his mind. He didnt know what was happening. Moros was the one doused in fire, so why was he the one burning?
Desperately wanting the pain to stop, Luke focused on the bond between him and Maximus and doubled his constitution. The relief was imdiate but far from enough to stem the pain. Taking to the air, Luke instinctively put space between him and his opponent. He needed to figure out what had happened.
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The taste of blood in his mouth and warm wetness within the confines of his armor revealed a ghastly truth. Moros hadnt just inflicted Luke with pain but had injured him too.
How?
Everything suddenly clicked, from the scars littering Moross body to their awkward and too-long stalemate. Moros had wanted Luke to attack.
Is it so kind of voodoo technique? Whatever I do to him gets done to . But
Luke carefully looked over Moros. His flas had burned the bald teen, but not as severely as they had burned him.
So, he only takes a fraction of the damage, while his technique magnifies it and reflects it to . This is bad. Really fucking bad.
How was he even supposed to beat an opponent like that? Anything Luke did that could eliminate Moros would also stop him. Luke didn't see a way, even with a constitution twice as strong as it had any right to be. Not to ntion, Hephaestus would remove them both from the competition if they got too injured. Fighting him seed to be nothing but a lose-lose proposition.
There's gotta be sothing, though. Moros waited for to attack, so thats one limit. If I dont hurt him, he cant hurt . Unless I get caught by his ax, but that wont happen while I still have mana to fuel my Foresight.
So, a non-lethal takedown? Luke frowned in annoyance. He didnt have a good thod to restrain him. Moros would unravel mundane ropes with an application of mana, which didnt even include the inherent difficulty of tying up an unwilling Warrior.
I could go with a thousand shallow cuts and hope he succumbs to blood loss before , but if Im right and he can do the muscle-enhancing thing that the other Spartan dude could do, I might not outlast him. Even if that does work, I still have other opponents I need to contend with after.
Unless I dont need to! Why should I get wrapped up in a fight this miserable when that isnt the real objective?
Luke smiled at his opponent and lowered his sword. How about we
Hahahahaha. Moros burst out into laughter. What, dont want to fight anymore?
Youve made yourself hard to defeat. Call a hypocrite if you want, but I'd rather not have done to what Ill need to do to you to win. So, what do you say?
Only the brave and the fools enjoy fighting , and I cant fault a man for being either. But Moros suddenly yanked the arm holding his remaining ax back. Just because my opponent is a coward doesnt an I should let him run, right?
Why can things never be easy? And who are you calling a coward, you masochist, fuck you too! And Was that supposed to do sothing Hearing a sharp whistling noise behind him, Luke barely dodged an ax to the back. Only to dodge again, as Moros threw his second ax the mont he caught the first one, entering the two in another stalemate.
Great, his axes attract each other? Nice. Thats just what I needed.
Luke sighed in annoyance. He couldnt attack Moros without hurting himself. The best he could do was disqualify them both. Moros, while skilled and relatively fast, was utterly unable to hit Luke. Whatever techniques or artifacts the son of Ares possessed, none of them could fool Lukes technique. Moros didnt have the ti to figure out Lukes weaknesses, but he wasnt willing to talk things out either. Luke couldnt help but fear it was going to be another stalemate.
Co on. Think. Think. Think.
Luke desperately tried to formulate a plan, fully aware of sand slowly emptying from the top of the hourglass, but nothing ca to mind.
Until it did. Fire was a destructive force, and thats all Luke had ever used it for. To burn and destroy. It was all he needed it for, truthfully. Granted, he hadnt had too long to experint with the spell, and things like fireballs and jets of fla ca intuitively.
That didnt an it was all it could be used for.
Luke funneled mana through one of his copied spell marks with a vindictive smile. Then, through his outstretched palm, he shot out dozens of tendrils of fla. The fire snaked forward and wrapped around Moros until Luke had trapped him in a fla prison. One big enough not to burn the superhuman teen caught inside.
The drain on Lukes mana was heavy. Sustaining continued fire consud much more energy than a single fireball ever could, and Luke would need to draw on the reserves of his sword to keep up, but he had a solution.
You know, Luke grinned, arrogant jackasses like you are all too eager to jump to conclusions. Just because soone speaks with reason doesnt an they lack the strength to make you kneel.
Within the fiery cage, Moros scoffed and continued to throw his axes.
Kneel? You must be dreaming. Is this your plan? To sweat to death? he said, an arrogant grin plastered all over his face.
You keep on thinking that, bud, Luke thought, suppressing a grimace as he felt his skin sear and his lungs burn with hot air. Moros hadnt stopped reflecting damage. It felt uncomfortably like being back in boiling water, but after enough ti, pain beca just another sensation. And as long as the pain was all it was, Luke would endure.
Moros would endure, too.
Until he realizes that theres no more oxygen.
Sure enough, as the seconds bled to minutes, Moross breath beca shallower and shallower, and he quickly realized that he had fallen into a trap. Not that it would do him any good. Luke ensured that even obscured by fire, he could see Moros well enough not to negate his technique. As such, no matter which direction Moros tried to escape from, the oxygen-consuming barrier of fire followed, guided by the vision of the future Luke could see.
The battle was won; Luke would be the victor, even if Moros hadnt given up. But, as the seconds stretched on, Luke ca to another conclusion.
This is not fun.
It didnt happen often, but fighting others was always more palatable when there was a quick and decisive end. Watching Moros desperately scramble from one end of his fiery prison to the other, knowing that he was suffocating while the flas heated the air around him, left a bad taste in Lukes mouth. As if he was playing with a helpless and trapped animal.
Hes still keeping up the technique reflecting damage to , so you know what, fair play. Let's see how much longer his mana lasts.
A minute later, Moros fell to his knees. Ten seconds after that, he dismissed whatever technique reflected damage to Luke. Three seconds later, he was gone from the platform in a burst of orange and red light.
Luke sighed in relief. He had been worried that he had underestimated the warriors constitution. Cultivators were hardier than reason dictated and could hold their breath for quite so ti without adverse effects. That didnt an that they could get away without air, though. Underneath the augntation of mana, warriors were still beings of flesh and blood, and Moros had made one too many mistakes.
Maybe if he stood still instead of panicking. Depriving soone of oxygen isnt a bad way to take soone down, though. Luke thought as he turned towards Arya and Spiros and their respective opponents. Both were holding their own, but that would change soon enough.
It was ti to bring this tournant to a close and see what was waiting for him once it was all over.
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