Swords of Gilded Crimson

Chapter 5 | Wary of the Mind Games |

His eyes fixed on mine, though if that wasn't enough to convey the sheer vigour he intended to employ in this particular battle, his reiner did well to express the true extent when radiating a gleam that personified bloodlust itself. The General of Luxandria, with his auras of crimson coating both himself and his blades, launched in my direction requiring no further delay.

Only rage and power was strewn across his features as he stormed forwards. I took it he hadn't yet gotten over the surprise of our attack; he hadn't been expecting a war of this size, so soon.

In one swift motion, General Nikolai unsheathed both the swords strapped to his back and commenced a stalk across the small expanse of the battlefield that was left between us,  embracing the prowl of a predator.

I was no prey.

I commenced my own stalk towards him, sword already in hand and accumulating momentum with each step. In response, his sword rose.

And at last, we clashed.

I'd thwarted his dual onslaught well, with my singular sword instantly rising to the angle required hold both of his own at bay. Except the impact was almost deafening, enough to hear it's reverberation ringing across the battlefield.

Surprise flashed in his dark eyes. I hadn't been what he was expecting, it seemed. Hopefully that impression would last through the hand to hand combat which usually followed this stage.

I was a fool to think so- because despite my efforts, it took the blink of an eye for the General to have squared his shoulders, and withdrawn one powerful hand to commence a singular play with one of his swords, while the other he kept on the task of holding mine back or even attempting to prevail over it.

With no other choice, I engaged in the challenge his sword had to offer, but meanwhile held off the other, more threatening one. It became one of the greatest dances I'd been offered: consisting of the need to the duck at the point where one roam of his eyes could mean potential vulnerability; the need to swerve at the moment that a bind with his dual weapons began to appear feasible, and all the while, my mind was kept racing through the array of attacks to opt for, depending on how good he was defending himself.

It'd been long since I'd battled with a warrior of similar power, and strength to my own. A thrill coursed through me, and I wasn't sure if this time it was the golden reiner's doing.

We continued the engagement of our swords, where finally the red reiner he bore on his chest, began to further its deep ruby gleam across his upper body, including both arms in the process. It meant he was heading towards the climax of his own strength.

But I couldn't dare look too long at him. He was a wooden dummy, I told myself. A faceless, emotionless dummy that I just had to slice through with my sword.

Again, I drew power from my reiner and struck. The blow was hard enough for him to stagger and lose track of his breathing. The first crack in the ice.

If I could exhaust the majority of his strength now, once it began its anticlimactic journey downhill, it would spell an easier victory for me. Especially as my own power's golden blaze remained only on my one sword, as of yet.

My gaze lifted to his face for a quick second, but that was all it would take to note he was scanning for any weaknesses of my own to exploit. His eyes shone as he spied the wound on my thigh. I'd hurriedly covered it with a strip of my fighting leathers earlier, hoping it would provide enough of a guise for the embarrassingly gaping wound underneath. Apparently not.

All his efforts henceforth began to be aimed towards that particular spot, and that was when he strategically unleashed the true might of his power at its climax.