World Breaker: Depths of Despair

Chapter 22: A New Skill

A smile forms on the man's face. I return the smile, eager for the battle ahead. I take up my daggers and charge the man. Our blades clash with an insane ferocity, sparks flying off them with each clash of our blades. Every swing of our daggers is evenly matched by the other. The man is easily telegraphing my every blow and meeting my own daggers with his. It seems we are quite evenly matched.

Even though I'm bleeding to death, this arena is perfect. The glow of the lanterns, the massive aquarium encompassing a third of the arena, and the blue-green stones of the floor providing for a perfect grip. It's perfect. I couldn't ask for a better place to battle to the death.

Both of our attacks are blazing with a fury unmatched in any of my previous fights. I'm launching attacks and defending from his attacks at the same time. Sparks are flying everywhere from our clashes. Neither of us has yet to land a blow to the other. Our battle is a complex and beautiful dance making full use of the whole arena. The smiles on both our faces never wane throughout out battle.

Finally, I land a hit. I parry his strike allowing for a quick counter slicing a 4 inch gash on his left pectoral muscle, the wound healing as soon as I make it. Oh come on! How do I beat that?! The wound I notice looked like I sliced into water. There was no blood, just the appearance that he is made from water.

I disengage and take a few hops back putting some distance between us. I evaluate this new information and formulate a plan. If this guy is made up of nothing but water, the only thing I have to combat this is fire. I guess I have no choice but to use my magic skill that's quickly becoming a go-to for my fights. It looks like things are about to heat up!

"Well, if you are made of water, then let's see how you deal with a little heat! TORCH!!"

Both daggers erupt in pure blue flame, causing them to glow red hot. I resume my attack, our clashes sparking even hotter than before. However, there is something new... steam. With each strike of my blade, there are sparks and an eruption of steam from his daggers. It seems that he is not the only thing made of water. His blades are too! It's seems I can cause damage without even hitting him directly.

I ramp up the ferocity of my attacks, I don't have a choice. It's been several minutes and I'm still bleeding out. I can already feel the effects of my blood loss. I push more mana into my blades, increasing the size of the flame and the intensity of the heat. My opponent momentarily recoils from this, obviously not liking the increase in temperature. Even more steam erupts with every blow. The arena is beginning to warm up from the heat from my blades, and the steam released from his. Sweat is bearing up all over my body and pouring down my face.

Another parry and I land a slice across his face. A scream of agony erupts from my opponent along with a geyser of steam from the wound. The wound isn't closing this time, steam steadily pouring out. That's it! I change my attack pattern. My attacker swings wide with his left, I duck and slice right across his hip, steam erupting from the wound. From my crouched position I slice straight up, slicing clean up his abdomen and chest. A massive column of steam erupts along with another scream.

Sweat pours off my body as a easily swat away an attack from my opponent, his attacks becoming more and more uncoordinated as I inflict more wounds on him. The wounds I have inflicted seem to be having a definite effect on his strength, speed, and the coordination of his strikes. I land several more strikes in succession on his arms, face and chest. Each wound erupting with searing hot steam along with screams from my opponent. It seems his time is running out, my blows taking their toll, and not a minute too soon as I'm reaching my limit, both in blood loss and in terms of the unbearable heat from all the steam from his body.

"You're done!"

I feint an attack toward his head and when he attempts to block, I land two slashes to his wide-open left side. His arms immediately drop to guard his side and I lay his defenseless throat wide open. His eyes open wide, and his daggers drop to the floor, splashing as they revert to water.