Nox closed the distance in a heartbeat, the Blade a blur aid at Lola’s chest. He had put everything into that first strike, hoping to catch her off guard with the speed. For a split second, it looked like she was going to et him head-on, her daggers raised to parry.
Then, just as his sword was about to connect, she smirked. Her eyes, full of that amused glint, t his. She didn’t try to block. Instead, she moved with a sudden, fluid grace that was almost too fast to follow. She jumped, not back, but up and slightly to the side, twisting in mid-air like so kind of acrobat.
Before he could even register the change, her booted foot lashed out. It connected solidly with his chest, right where his sword had been aid.
’Oh, shit—’
The impact was brutal. It felt like getting hit by a damn truck. The air exploded from his lungs, and he went flying backward, tumbling through the air like a ragdoll. He crashed hard into the wall of a nearby building, the brick crumbling around him. The Blade clattered from his numb fingers.
He slid down the wall, landing in a heap of dust and broken masonry. His whole body scread in protest. Every rib felt bruised, if not broken. That one kick had done more damage than the furry boss monster had managed in several hits.
Lola landed lightly on her feet, daggers still held ready, not even breathing hard. She strolled casually towards him, that smirk still on her face.
"Not bad, kid," she said, her voice dripping with condescension. "You’re fast, I’ll give you that. But speed without skill? That’s just a quick way to get yourself killed." She nudged his dropped sword with the toe of her boot. "You’re seriously outmatched here. Just stay down. It’ll be easier for everyone."
He coughed, a wet, ragged sound. He tasted blood in his mouth. He pushed himself up onto one elbow, his vision swimming for a second. His chest felt like it was on fire.
’Outmatched? Yeah, no kidding.’ But that itch, that damn itch for a fight, it was still there, stronger now, fueled by the pain and the sheer audacity of her kick. He didn’t care if he was outmatched. He just wanted to hit her. Hard.
His system pinged, a small, almost unnoticed notification.
[Weapon Mastery (Passive) has been activated]
He spat a glob of blood onto the dusty ground. He looked up at her, and the expression in his eyes wasn’t fear or surrender. It was stubborn defiance. He was ready for more.
She saw the look and let out a theatrical sigh, shaking her head. "Seriously, kid? You really do have a death wish, don’t you?" She sounded almost bored now, like swatting him down was just a chore she had to get through. "So people just don’t know when to quit."
She took another step towards him, probably intending to finish it quickly. But just as she moved, a streak of silver flashed from her side. Serian.
The elf princess, who had been standing frozen in shock, had finally reacted. Her own sword, slender and elegant, was aid right at Lola’s exposed flank. It was a fast, desperate attack, fueled by who knew what – loyalty, fear, or maybe just elven stubbornness.
She reacted instantly, her smirk vanishing. She spun on her heel, her daggers coming up in a defensive arc, deflecting Serian’s blade with a sharp clang of tal on tal. She hopped back a few paces, putting distance between herself and the princess.
"Woah," she said, her eyes narrowed, no longer looking amused. "Two of you, huh? This just got a little more interesting." She glanced at Serian’s sword.
’That was close,’ she thought. ’The elf girl’s got so moves. Could have been dangerous if that connected properly.’ She hadn’t expected the princess to jump in. She’d figured her for the damsel-in-distress type.
Serian stood panting, her sword held ready, her eyes blazing. "Leave him be, rcenary!" she snapped, her voice surprisingly fierce. "Your quarrel is with !"
Nox, still propped on his elbow, watched them. ’Huh, princess has got so fight in her after all,’ he thought, a grudging respect forming. He coughed again, then slowly, painfully, pushed himself to his knees.
He reached out and grabbed his Blade. His fingers closed around the hilt, the tal feeling solid and real.
’However, this fight is mine.’
He coughed again, the taste of blood filling his mouth. He pushed himself up, leaning heavily on the Blade, his body protesting every small movent. Serian still stood between him and Lola, sword held firm, her stance unwavering despite the obvious fatigue etched on her face.
"Back off, princess," he managed, his voice a low rasp. "I told you, this one’s mine."
Serian didn’t even glance back. "You are in no condition to fight her, Human Nox. Your recklessness will be your undoing." Her knuckles were white where she gripped her sword.
Lola actually chuckled, a dry, humorless sound. She tapped one of her daggers against her leather-clad thigh, a rhythmic, patient sound.
"Listen to the elf, kid. She’s right. You’re bleeding like a stuck pig, and you look like you’re about to fall over. What makes you think you can take ?"
Her words, Serian’s dismissal, it all just piled on.
’They still see as weak,’ he thought, a fresh wave of anger washing over him. ’Like I’m just so charity case they need to protect.’ He hated that feeling, hated it more than the pain in his chest.
His jaw clenched. He could feel sothing stirring inside him, his mana core wasn’t just humming quietly anymore. It felt like it was waking up, responding to the raw, bitter anger coiling in his gut.
"I don’t need your pity," he snarled, pushing himself fully upright, ignoring the way his ribs scread. He took a shaky step forward, planting his feet. "And I sure as hell don’t need to be told what I can or can’t do."
Lola raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening. "Ooh, feisty. Still got that death wish, huh? Admirable, in a stupid sort of way."
The god chat, which had been relatively quiet, suddenly lit up again in his vision, the ssages scrolling fast and frantic.
[Auraelia, Goddess of Resilient Sparks] WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! 😱 Please, listen to Serian! You’re hurt! You need to get away! This isn’t a ga!
[Lord of Carnage] Hah! Now we’re talking! Kid’s got fire in his belly! Maybe that kick to the chest woke sothing up! Let’s see what he does!
[Baron Von Cynic] Oh, for goodness sake. He’s going to get himself properly killed this ti. Is there any entertainnt value in watching a gnat try to fight a hornet? Debatable.
He barely registered their yapping. The feeling inside him was growing, a tingling warmth spreading from his chest, out through his limbs. It wasn’t like the mana he’d pushed into his legs before; this felt... bigger. Wilder. A low hum started, so faint he almost thought he imagined it, vibrating deep in his bones.
Serian looked back at him then, her eyes widening slightly as she saw the change in his expression. The stubborn defiance was still there, but it was mixed with sothing else now, an intensity that made his gaze almost feverish.
"Nox... your energy... it feels different."
Lola, too, noticed the shift. Her smirk faltered for just a mont, her eyes narrowing as she studied him. "Ohh? What’s this? Little whelp got a second wind, or is he just about to pop a blood vessel?"
The mana inside him wasn’t just tingling anymore; it was surging. He felt like a live wire, energy crackling just under his skin. It wasn’t entirely comfortable. It felt like too much, like he was a container about to overflow. He gripped the Blade tighter.
The gods’ chat continued its chaotic comntary.
[Mars, God of Tactical Warfare] His ambient mana readings are spiking. Significantly. Beyond expected paraters for a player of his level and recent awakening. This is... anomalous.
[Lady Veritas] He’s losing control! This is precisely what I feared! Such rapid power acquisition without discipline leads only to destruction!
[Aphrodite, Goddess of Beauty & Passion] Oh, but the passion! That raw, untad power... it’s quite breathtaking, isn’t it? He’s like a storm about to break! So much primal energy! ❤️🔥
[Trickster God Hers IV] Uh oh, looks like soone’s about to go supernova! 😂 This is either gonna be epic or a very quick, very bright fizzle. Place your bets, ladies and gents!
[Oracle of Fates] The threads around him are fraying... and reweaving. Into sothing... unexpected. The Pattern shifts.
He could feel the mana pushing at him from the inside, a wild, restless energy. He wasn’t consciously controlling it; it was just... happening. And it felt like it wanted out. His vision seed sharper, the colors around him more intense. The dull ache in his body was still there, but it was overlaid with this thrumming, almost painful, readiness.
He looked at Lola, that cold, eager grin spreading across his face again.
"You wanted a fight, rcenary?" he said, his voice a low growl that didn’t quite sound like his own. "Looks like you’re about to get one."
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