45. The Duel

At dawn it was as though the whole Faction had gathered to watch Zane fight. He was reminded, weirdly, of a college football game. Last night Reina had spread the news. Everyone knew it would take place in the Valley of the Crystalback Behemoth. All across the wide lip of the valley crowded hundreds upon hundreds of people from all sorts of sub-Factions. Maybe thousands. Some had made the journey from Safe Zones hours over. There was an air of breathless excitement.

As Zane made his way down to the valley floor, somewhat mystified by it all, a great cheer went up for him, bubbling around the Valley's edge. There were lots of folks shouting his name, cheering him on, folks he was fairly certain he'd never met before.

He caught a flash of something huge and pink waving in the crowd—it was his face, blown up ten feet tall. A girl in a hoodie waved it enthusiastically. "Go Zane!" cheered Avery. She grinned and waved at him. "Woooo!"

He met Ethan at the center of the valley. Reina was waiting for them.

Zane looked Ethan dead in the eyes. The man's brows were furrowed. He seemed tense, but he held Zane's gaze firmly. They both took the crystals, tied them around their wrists, and made for opposite sides of the valley.

Reina met his eyes and nodded. She seemed more nervous than he did. But she gave him a stern nod as she walked away. Once they'd all taken their spots, she called out—

"Fighters ready?"

Ethan made a fist. Zane did too.

"Begin!"

***

There was a presence to this Savage Sage, Ethan thought. Part of it was physical, sure—he had the kind of look that drew double-takes. But it was also the way he presented himself, his expression. There must've been thousands of people shouting their lungs off up there. His reputation, his Faction, was riding on him. And the man looked calm, almost bored, like he felt no pressure at all. He seemed more curious than anything.

Ethan couldn't tell if he was confident or foolish.

Ethan let out a humph. He put up his fists. His gauntlets, his Spirit Weapons, wrapped his hands. Ethan might be Level 58—something of a leap from Zane's own, sure. But there was something Zane didn't know.

Ethan was a one-on-one specialist. When General Clay's Lieutenants tried to take him down face to face, they couldn't. He'd been battering that swordsman, had driven the man to his knees—they'd all had to gang up on him, push him back. It might have just been his pride talking, but if he didn't have to drop back to protect his folk, he figured he could have taken them all down with him.

He could tell Zane was looking down on him. If Ethan was honest, it pissed him off a little. But he didn't show it.

Instead, he narrowed his eyes.

Look down on me if you like. He'd pay for it soon enough.

This Zane might be strong… but one man, taking down a whole Iron Legion division?

Something felt fishy to Ethan. It was why he'd requested the duel. We'll see if you can back up your reputation, Savage Sage.

"Begin!"

Instantly, Ethan activated Blood Fury.

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘: ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕥𝕙 𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝟟𝟝%!

But then—

𝕊𝕥𝕣𝕖𝕟𝕘𝕥𝕙 𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕓𝕪 𝟙𝟝%

𝕊𝕡𝕖𝕖𝕕 𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕓𝕪 𝟙𝟝%

It had been a stroke of blind luck getting the skill. As far as he could tell, it was one of the best Rare skills around. Cut some health, but what it meant was he was instantly fighting like a man seven or eight Levels higher.

It was enough to turn a fight upside-down.

The boost would last a minute at most. He had to make it count—he'd finish this fast. He dashed straight for Zane, eating up the ground between them in three massive bounds.

Zane stood his ground. Ethan wasn't slowing down. There was only one way this could end—they collided.

They hit each other at almost the same time. Ethan landed first—he dug his fist straight into Zane's thick gut, and was pleased to draw a grunt. Then he pulled out the first of his weapons. Minor Law of Life Stealing!

And a chunk of the damage he'd dealt flowed straight back into him.

Then Zane's fist struck his face.

It was the oddest thing—Zane's hands were massive. He'd expected it to feel like getting struck by a battering ram. Instead, it felt like an axe had chopped deep into his face. The sudden flare of pain made him hiss, stumble back. An arc of blood spurted out.

They circled each other, both wary. Then Ethan lunged again and they exchanged blows—blow for blow. Ethan decked him up high, the hard steel of his gauntlets crunching against the man's cheekbones, and felt a fist gouge into his gut. They struck again and again. Back and forth they went.

Ethan was shocked at how evenly matched they were, even with his boost. He hopped back, dragging in a rattling breath. He was bleeding all over the place. The other man hardly looked fazed, but light bruising was showing on his face.

Ethan pressed in again, but this time his fists found air. Zane had dodged, clocked him up the face again, and he hissed as another slash gouged into his cheek, making a bloody X.

He lunged again and this time managed to land a clean shot to the body. But Zane's reply nearly took an eye out—it would have if he hadn't jerked his head out of the way at the last minute. He was struck by how cleanly the man moved. He was huge, but his body moved like a dancer's, in big smooth lines.

They clashed again, and it was getting clear the big man was getting the better of the exchanges. The crowd was eating it up.

Ethan's Minor Law meant they were still pretty neck and neck. If this kept up… it was looking like Ethan would lose.

It didn't matter. Ethan gritted his teeth. He just had to get the man down near 50%.

Once Ethan was close enough to pull out his greatest weapon, this would all be over.

Zane was strong. Maybe stronger than Ethan, his final weapon aside. But if Ethan was honest… he was disappointed. Zane was barely beating a guy like him—how could this Zane possibly stand against the Soldier of God?

Ethan was starting to think he made a mistake agreeing to serve him if he lost.

Good thing he wouldn't lose. The more he fought, the more sure of it he felt.

***

So that's how you wrap the Razor's Edge around your knuckles. Zane nodded.

Sometimes these Laws felt like buying new cars. You had to test drive them to feel comfortable using them. It turned out Razor's Edge paired pretty easily with Precision Slicing—one was the what, the other was the how.

Ethan kept rushing in, and Zane kept hitting him. Not too hard, just enough to be comfortably winning. He wanted to get in a few dozen live shots with his new Laws, at least. The other guy got a few lumps in, but Zane didn't mind. He was learning a lot. Field tests were the way to go. It was pretty fun, actually.

Then he saw Reina's face. She'd gone all pink; her chest was heaving. …She seemed mad.

***

Reina was furious.

What was he doing?!

She knew he could end that man. Couldn't he see? Everyone was watching him! She needed him to show them what she saw.

Why was he letting that lumbering bear of a man hit him?

Every time Zane took a hit, her heart sank. He didn't look concerned at all. He looked like he was taking a stroll in the park. Why did she bother being so worried for him when he wasn't worried himself?

Sometimes he made her feel like she was going insane.

The dumb hunk looked at her and blinked, baffled.

She wanted to scream at him.

***

Ethan staggered back, panting hard. A stream of blood dripped down his brow; he wiped it away with a hand. "Good fight," he said.

"Yeah." Zane nodded. He was having a good time. He wasn't panting, but he had to give the man credit—he was pretty solid, and he fought viciously. He was standing his ground. He'd gotten Zane close to 50% health.

Then Ethan smiled. His demeanor suddenly changed. He straightened up. "I must admit, though… I've been holding back."

"Have you?"

"You fought well," was all Ethan said in response.

Then he closed his fists, and his gauntlets started to shine a bloody red light. The air around them began to tremble. Crimson light gushed from his eyes, and the smile widened. A strange, otherworldly aura came over him; the ends of his lanky hair began to shiver and float, tinged red. Essence poured into his fists faster and faster, until those gauntlets shone like small red suns.

Oh, neat. It was probably something like Zane's Titan's Fist, just made for a gauntlet. He wondered how it—

Ethan was a blur of red light. Blink and you would've missed him. One instant he was ten feet away, charging up the strike. The next, he was right in Zane's face, fist cocked back, ready to blast him into oblivion. And there was some fight-ending power in that fist. If that landed, Zane really might lose.

Only… it seemed Ethan's fist couldn't move.

The man's face went from triumphant to baffled. He stared at his hand. Then he fell over, gasping, and all that force exploded into the ground. The roar was deafening; up came a plume of smoke. But when it cleared… everyone saw the culprit.

Ethan's gauntleted fist lay at the bottom of a smoking crater. And around it, wrapping it tight, was a thick black chain topped with an Axe head. It chained him to the ground. Ethan tried yanking it out. He couldn't. He looked shocked at how heavy it was.

"What the fuck?" he grunted, eyes wide.

Then Zane strolled up to him. "Yeah," he said blandly. "I was holding back too."

He took his other chain and thrust it into the air. The Axe made one bright, lazy circle after another. Its edge caught on fire.

Ignition, Combustion, Eruption, Undying Flame, Laws stacked one atop of each other, topping the edge of that shining blade, and a Major Law exerted its pressure on the world.

Gasps rippled down the crowd. Ethan choked.

Then Zane stacked on another Law. The Minor Law of Razor's Edge. And another, the Minor Law of Precision Slicing.

All six Laws flared proud atop that shining beacon of light. No one could tear their eyes from it. They could all feel it, the sheer power flowing off it, warping the air.

Ethan tried squirming out. But the Chains snaked around his legs, his arms, his torso—this Strength-specialist Warrior sub-class could hardly manage a few wriggles.

Zane brought it down to earth and clasped the base of it in one hand. He knelt down and positioned that blade, big as a car door, right over Ethan's sweating head. It was hard to tell how much of the redness came from his face, and how much came from Zane's Axe.

"So," he said. "Do you yield?"

"…Yes," breathed the man.

"Cool."

Zane extinguished the blade, tossed it aside, de-summoned the Chains. Then he held out a hand to help the man up. Dazed, Ethan took it. "You fought well," said Zane.

The crowd erupted. People fell over themselves cheering. People were running down the edges of the valley, coming to mob him.

"Jesus Christ," said Ethan, wiping his face. He chuckled. "You were playing with me that whole time? You bastard. How much power was that?"

Zane thought. "…Thirty percent?"

"Jesus Christ," said Ethan again. He shook his head. "You're something else."

He looked back at his sub-Faction, stationed on the other end of the valley.

They knelt as one. He did too.

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔻𝕒𝕨𝕟 𝔾𝕦𝕒𝕣𝕕 𝕨𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕓𝕖𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕒 𝕤𝕦𝕓-𝔽𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕃𝕦𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕤 𝔽𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟

𝔸𝕔𝕔𝕖𝕡𝕥?

Then Zane found himself mobbed by a very enthusiastic crowd he frankly had no clue what to do with.

It took him a while to extricate himself.

***

When at last he managed it, Reina came marching up to him.

"Hey," he said. "I—"

She slapped him. "You ass!"

"…I won," he said, baffled.

"Did you have to play with me like that?" She looked relieved and angry at once. "You worried me sick!"

"…Oh."

"I—" Reina let out a frustrated growl and looked away. "It's… It's my own stupid fault. I don't know why I care. You did well."

She marched off.

Avery came over soon after, sucking on a lollipop she'd gotten from who knew where. Zane was pretty sure the Beacon shop didn't sell those.

"Nice job!"

"Thanks."

"Did you like my banner?"

He smiled a little. "Sure."

"I was thinking we could—" Avery blinked. Then frowned.

"Wait…who's that?"

She wasn't looking anywhere in particular—her eyes were unfocused, staring at her mini-map. He looked at his too.

At its edge, moving closer, was a white dot with an S in the middle.