Dan stood there, glancing dumbly from his battered helmet to where Ishlar stood, giving an incomprehensible angry monologue. It was a small blessing that Ishlar was an idiot. Anyone else would have followed up on his disorientation with a fatal blow. God knows his trainer back at the Thoth foundation would have capitalized on a moment of weakness like that. She certainly hadn’t been shy about letting him wake up in the medical bay when he made mistakes.
Unknown language detected. Initializing translation sub-routine.
Please expose yourself to more of this language to expand your vocabulary and syntax.
Well, at least Sam hadn’t left him completely high and dry. He wasn’t exactly sure that he wanted to be learning a new language, even with science-fiction-level assistance during the middle of a fight, but it was a lot better than the old-fashioned way. At least this way, he might be able to convince someone that his last name was Thrush rather than Bird.
God, Ishlar was still talking. The rest of the fights continued around them, but the man positively would not shut up. Deep inside himself, Dan vowed that he couldn’t lose to this idiot. He had used magic to fight giant ants, bats, and other monstrosities. His body had something like fifteen million dollars worth of medical equipment in it. He had lived through the disastrous first contact with the elves of the Tellask Empire. Hell, he had beaten odds so high that they still weren’t able to calculate them by surviving ingesting a mana crystal.
All stories have an end, but his wasn’t going to be here, to an idiot that most resembled the assholes who gave him crap in highschool when he didn’t make the football team. If he was going to die on Twilight, it was going to be to an actual honest-to-God magical monster. Not someone who was pumped full of the magical equivalent of steroids while using their daddy’s toys to push him around.
A flicker of rage ignited in his chest. He was better than Ishlar. He had beaten the man in the arena on an even footing, and now Ishlar wanted another crack at Dan. Fine. This time, there wouldn’t be a referee to stop him from dealing a killing blow. He had already earned the man’s mana once. It was just a matter of doing it again.
Ishlar just stood there, ranting, trusting in his spell shield to keep him safe. He was right, after a fashion. Dan didn’t have anything that could quickly punch through the kinetic shield, but that didn’t mean he was helpless. With a deep, steadying breath, Dan muttered “Flame Jet” to activate the ability.
Ishlar yelped in surprise and stepped to the side as the line of fire washed over him, only to catch another Flame Jet. Even if the shield protected him, not all shields were created equal.
A cheap spellshield, the kind used by the rank and file soldiers in the invasion on Earth, would solely protect against basic kinetic attacks such as arrows, swords, and bullets. Only a high-level spell shield would have environmental protection runes built into it.
Even if Dan couldn’t lay a hand on the bigger man, that wouldn’t stop him from cooking him alive. Ishlar screamed something, probably about Dan’s honor or parentage, even if he could understand the idiot, it wouldn’t have mattered. He was beyond caring about the nonsense boasts and jibes Ishlar constantly spewed.
The huge man lunged toward Dan, leading with a club swing aimed at his head. Dan fired another Flame Jet into Ishlar’s face, temporarily blinding the man, then threw himself at Ishlar’s knees. For once, the extra gravity created by Ishlar’s skill helped more than hindered Dan. Rather than trying to fight the skill by jumping to the side or dancing backwards, he moved with it, letting the magic pull him towards the ground and under the now-blind swing.
Dan’s breath left his body as Ishlar’s shin caught him in the ribs. Even through the stainless steel chain, the impact rocked into him. Luckily, the blow tripped Ishlar and sent the man flying face-first into the rocky soil. Once again, the spell shield glowed, absorbing the kinetic force of the impact, but this time the glow wasn’t quite as bright. Apparently, catching almost three hundred pounds of muscle plummeting face-first into a rock was a bit much for the runes crafting the shield. Good to know. Dan unleashed another Flame Jet into Ishlar’s sprawling prone form. The dull ache of mana exhaustion began to war with the twinge in his side where he had been kicked.
Hoping that his ribs were just cracked, Dan gritted his teeth against the pain in his side and swung down at Ishlar as the other man tried to stand up. After two blows deflected off of the increasingly-dull spell shield, Dan smiled at the sweating man and fired another Flame Jet into him before backpedaling. Ishlar swung Spinebreaker half-heartedly, easily missing. As Dan waited for his vision to return to normal after the most recent Flame Jet, the other man’s breath rasped.
“Vornook dar gasoon.” Sweat was pouring down Ishlar’s now-lobster-red body as the other man fought to breathe. “Salaat ben selaar tannik, elok tir boslap.” He pointed at Dan with the club, arm trembling.
Dan rolled his eyes and shot yet another Flame Jet at the man. Behind his eyes, the headache began to build, but he had no option other than to keep the pressure on Ishlar. Right now, his only advantage over the bigger man was his agility and stamina. Giving him a moment to catch his breath could spell disaster. Dan strongly suspected that Ishlar would be able to recover from low-grade heat exhaustion faster than Dan could recover mana for the relatively-inefficient Flame Jets.
Ishlar stepped towards him and stumbled slightly. He stopped to swipe at his brow with his only partially-responsive left hand. Dan glared at his blood smearing that hand and now Ishlar’s face. His nose was definitely broken. As if reminded by the visual cue, his entire face throbbed. Silently, Dan gave thanks to the nanites minimizing the pain responses from the wound. Fighting someone with this much better gear was hard enough even without being blinded by pain.
He fired another Flame Jet at the man, gritting his teeth against the painful emptiness of mana exhaustion. He closed the distance as best he could under the weight of Ishlar’s gravity skill. Somewhere, the rest of the party was still fighting, but they were almost a dream. All Dan could see was Ishlar’s reeling form. He slashed out with his sword and bounced yet again off the weakening edge of the spell shield. Ishlar blinked at him through a mixture of sweat and Dan’s own blood, bringing back the club for a one-handed swing. Even through the shield radiating heat poured off of Ishlar. He didn’t hesitate. Dan fired another Flame Jet at point blank range into the man’s side. He winced slightly as the heat from the deflected flame scorched him as well.
The light and heat caused the blow to falter just enough for Dan to step into and duck under it. Gone was Ishlar’s mana-enhanced speed and grace from the beginning of the battle. Instead, the man looked tired and defeated. Grinning at him through a mask of his own blood, Dan reached up and grabbed the spell shield around the hand holding Spinebreaker and triggered Shocking Fist. Only a small amount of electricity arced through the inch or two of air between the shield and Ishlar’s wrist, but it was enough. The hand spasmed, and Spinebreaker fell to the ground.
Ishlar stared at his hand as if betrayed, and the constant pressure from the increased gravity abated. Dan’s head was pounding from the broken nose and his mana expenditure, but he stepped back and kicked the club away. At least he tried to. The thing was heavy as hell. Ignoring his newly-injured foot and the pain in his side, Dan swung his sword again. This time, the spell shield shattered in a cascade of shimmering light. Ishlar glanced up at him. His gaze was blank. Dan’s sword slid between the man’s ribs with ease.
He withdrew the bloody blade and stepped back. The mountain of a man still stood before him, gasping for breath as blood flowed out of his side. He didn’t even seem to notice that he was wounded. Dan frowned and gripped his sword with both hands before swinging again. This time, he slashed open Ishlar’s chest, cutting through at least two ribs before catching on a third. Ishlar took a hesitant step towards him, eyes still blank. Dan stepped back again and squared himself before swinging. The blade hit Ishlar’s knee and bisected the man’s right leg. He fell to the ground, air escaping in deep, gurgling breaths.
For a second, Dan hesitated, eyes locked on Ishlar’s moaning and thrashing body. The man stared up at him, all bravado gone from his face as he bled out.
Killing a man was different than killing an animal. With the bear and the ants, it had been almost like a game. There might be consequences if they got the better of you, but there were no ethical questions. Stab here, fire a spell there, and you receive a reward of mana. With another human, that illusion was shattered. He had just murdered a man. True, it was in self-defense. Ishlar had sought him out, and wouldn’t have let Dan leave without a fatal fight, but there was no question what had just happened.
Then the mana hit, and the questions stopped. Dan had been almost dry when his duel ended, and the river of energy almost took his breath away. Compared to the glass of water he received for killing an ant, or the water bottle for the blood bear, Ishlar was a waterfall. Dan’s eyes twitched beneath their lids as wave after wave of euphoria consumed him. He sank down to his knees, insensible as blood continued to flow freely from his face. The pain and the movement didn’t even register for him as neon pleasure coursed through his veins.
Unnoticed in the corner of his vision, the System began spewing updates.
Detecting increase in Fire Affinity. Fire Affinity is now 6.
Mana influx detected. Recalculating Spirit.
Spirit is now 10.
Fluctuation in Rank detected.
Recalculating.
Rank is now 2
Detecting abnormalities in <USER>’s mana.
Entering diagnostic mode.
Results inconclusive
Please contact System administration at your earliest convenience. The Thoth Foundation is not liable for any mutations, dismemberment, or sudden untimely deaths that may occur if <USER> fails to contact System administration.
Thank you for your cooperation <USER>
Dan drooled slightly and twitched.
