Justice (Part Three)
Tycondrius, Warlord of Sol Invictus, had taken an injury.
It had been awhile. He'd almost forgotten what proper pain felt like.
The games were over.
"Come at me, Justus. Your hatred for non-humans, I will receive it all.."
He flipped up his visor, undimming his vision. He doubted it would be effective against another Iron-Ranker, but it would add to his intimidation factor.
⟬ Vexing Gaze: Ocular ability. Target takes damage from an illusory poison, affecting both target's mind and body. If successful, target becomes distracted and may go into anaphylactic shock. ⟭
Decanus Justus, Holy Avenger of Tyrion trembled slightly. He shut his eyes and shook his head violently to rid himself of the illusory poison.
"I don't hate you, Zehr," He said.
Perhaps it cleared his mind, as well.
"You won't be able to defeat me without it," Tycon chided. "You don't have the technical skill to challenge me... nor can you change your luck. You rely on strength and mana... both easily empowered by rage and hatred."
"I... will... NOT!!!" Justus yelled. He placed his sword in front of his face, charging it with a surge of mana. A beam of light struck the cavernous ceiling, stalactites cracking loose and falling around them.
Tycon glanced up. It seemed he was safe from that. That was incredibly reckless of the young Decanus.
"⌈Sunblade Heaven Slash!!⌋" Justus yelled, launching another two crescents of golden energy-- the mana composing it, far more powerful and concentrated than before.
Right... that ability could be used multiple times.
"Good!" Tycon nodded. He dodged the first slash, then deflected the second with his mana-charged blade, "Use your aggressive feelings, young man! Let the HATE flow through you!!"
It was a marvel of Tyrion steel that his sword could handle so much mana-abuse.
He glanced down. Hm. It was cracked.
"This isn't hatred..." Justus growled. "This is the power of my faith."
Tycon felt his mouth twitch. For a soldier of the Holy Country, that... was the same thing.
"Stop this, Zehr!!" Justus pleaded, raising his glowing sword for another attack.
"Ah... hahaha..." Tycon chuckled derisively, "Do you think this is the best I can do?"
⟬ Inspirational Surge conditions met. Activate? Y/N? ⟭
« Activate, thank you. »
⟬ Activating. ⟭
Tycon drew the two fingers of his left hand across the injury on his chest, wiping the blood off of the mending wound.
"Y-you can heal?" Justus asked, incredulously. "You... YOU CAN HEAL???!"
"I never said I couldn't," Tycon smirked.
"Why... but Rena... You could have... W....why?" Justus seemed to have become quite upset. "WHY???!! WHY DIDN'T YOU SAVE HER?!?!"
There was a simple answer to that.
He wasn't a Divine Caster like Fortuna. Her abilities reverted an injured creature's condition to a less-injured state.
However, ⌈Inspirational Surge⌋ only catalyzed natural healing. As such, its effectiveness was muted on the elderly and those with naturally poor regenerative abilities, like horses.
...It also made him hungrier.
Rena's injuries were beyond what magic was capable of healing.
--not for him... nor for Fortuna, for that matter.
But that was useless to explain. Justus didn't want an excuse. He wanted another reason to hate.
Tycon rushed forward, leaping up to attack. It was a calculated gamble. The best thing to do was to dodge his attack. Knowing Justus' personality, he'd likely block, distracted by the fact that he could heal and he did nothing as Rena died from her own foolishness.
"⌈SUNBLADE!! HEAVEN!!! SLAAAAASHH!!!!⌋"
Or Justus could attack. Shite.
Airborne, Tycon was unable to dodge. He desperately slashed his sword at Justus' first golden crescent, his sword shattering near the middle of the blade.
He squinted his eyes, feeling bits of shrapnel cutting into his face, wishing he had not raised his visor. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, protecting his vitals from the Avenger's second slash.
It cut deep.
It hurt.
The new injuries would bleed profusely. But Tycon was still alive-- he wasn't certain he was going to survive the sun, but that one or three minutes to be determined.
He landed, dropping down to a knee.
--precariously close to his opponent.
The boy placed his sword in front of his face, "I'm sorry, Zehr... Receive thy ⌈Final Judgment.⌋"
Ah! That was the skill that felled the Manticore. Tears streamed down the young man's face. He had a good heart. It was a shame the skill had a lengthy activation.
Justus raised his glowing sword for the last time.
"⌈Shadowfang Strike.⌋"
Tycon dashed forward, by magical shadows,
Not even the light of an Avenger's aura could pierce his movement technique.
Tycon ignored the searing heat of his injuries on his forearms to arrive behind Justus.
He hooked his left arm around the young man's neck, then he shoved what was left of his broken sword into Justus' lower back.
With his left elbow, Tycon violently pulled Justus' head up... and grabbing the hunting knife off of his back, he sliced the Decanus' throat.
--but was that enough?
Again with his knife, he cut into Justus' neck-- slower, deeper.
The young, dying man dropped his sword.
He pulled desperately at Tycon's grip.
Blood filled Justus' airways. His desperate gasps for breath turned to bubbling gurgles.
Tycon held Justus up, continuing his bloody work, carving deeply into human flesh.
It took several seconds for the boy to stop struggling... finally falling limp in his hold.
Releasing the young man, Tycon kicked his back-- he was being very careful. Justus' body slumped onto the cavern floor, his face smashing into the stone.
Excellent. That was a good fight.
He took moderate injury. He'd used a great deal of mana.
He picked up Justus' Decanus sword, which was in surprisingly good condition. He looked at his surroundings and counted the bodies in the cave. No one had 'woken up' and escaped.
Wonderful.
« System, I'm feeling rather inspired. »
⟬ Inspirational Surge conditions met. Activate? Y/N? ⟭
« Yes, please, and thank you. »
⟬ Activating. ⟭
« System, change setting: When I thank you, I'd like you to respond "You're welcome." »
⟬ Setting change complete. You're welcome. ⟭
It was a job well done. Mana surged through his body, healing the cuts on his forearms and elsewhere. There was a copious amount of blood-- that he didn't yet feel lightheaded was a sign that he was near his breakthrough to Gold-Rank.
He was terribly hungry, though.
Tycon finished his work, systematically stabbing the throats of the fallen Rhodoks. It was best to be careful. None of them responded to his efforts, but it was always best to be sure.
Tycon's personal mission was a success-- defeating and killing several Iron-Rankers and a Gold-Rank. Now, all that was left was to stamp out the remaining Rhodoks, to allow Isidor a safe relocation.
Zero humans left in the cave. Twenty outside. Thirty-seven at the base of the mountain.