Acyutani could only smile as she watched the glowing blade of her Half Swallow pass through the flesh of Nyadir’s shoulder and pierce into his soul, digging and slicing into the very essence and energy that made up who he was. That mattered little to her even though her attack did no physical damage to the now deranged man. Even if a blow like that would have rendered the arm and shoulder useless. It caused him pain, she knew it did, the look on his face merely posed as an unnecessary reminder to her. Her reason for being a Pagoda warrior was not to beat down her opponents into a bloody mess and have them kneeling at their feet before her. No, it was to better herself and learn from the people she fought how she could protect those she cared about more. Beyond that reason, the one that kept her sane at night, lay one that haunted her dreams. She fought in the Pagoda because she wanted to see him again, she wanted him to come here and challenge her to a fight and for her to show him exactly what he taught her. To show him how much stronger, faster and smarter she had become. The only thing she wished her attack had done was pierce right into his Thread of Fate and out his soul from his body, leaving the barely living shell to lie on the floor of her arena while she stared at his helpless form. His quick movements had lessened the effects of her enchantment and negated this though.

Nyadir’s body bent back and away from her, creating the perfect attack opportunity upon his exposed and defenceless torso. She just needed to redirect her Half Swallow towards his chest once more and dig the blade into his soul, but she realized all too quickly the opportunity did not raise itself. While he evaded the full force of her attack, his leg shot out from the sand and lashed out towards her exposed side far faster than he had been moving from the beginning of all this. She knew she couldn’t block it with her weapon or even her arm with it extended too far out towards his body, but she also knew she didn’t have to.

“Attacks to the torso and stomach work well when your opponent doesn’t see them coming, otherwise they have time to tense the muscles along the area and lessen the force of the blow.”

So she did. Like she blocked the blade of his dagger with a quick thought, Acyutani once more formed a case of metal along the side of her torso and tensed all the muscles she knew how to in that area. The steel edge of his boot slammed against the mystical armour right along her ribcage and the force of the blow dented the metal slightly and forced her to her knees. Her right knee dug deeply into the hot sand as it fought to keep her body steady. She refused to roll with the force of his kick, taking the damage and the radiating pain as it pulse through her flesh and bones, causing her to grit her teeth and hold her breath to stop that small cry building in her throat from escaping. Even against what would be his better judgement and the way he taught her, Acyutani took the blow as she shifted her position slightly in the sand. Then she countered.

His foot lay jammed against her side, the hard leather and steel trying to break through that feeble and quickly formed plate of metal. Placing her right hand in the burning sand, Acyutani twisted her torso around so that Nyadir’s calf muscle rested against her side. At the same time, she twirled the Half Swallow in her fingers until the sharp edge of the blade pointed out from her elbow and the metallic shaft rested against the underside of her forearm. Then she wrapped her arm over and under Nyadir’s leg, digging the point of her blade into the ground to hold her arm in place and press his leg against her side as tightly as she could, trapping it. Once the weapon buried itself within the sands, two things began to happen. Acyutani shifted her weight back onto her legs and balls of her feet, away from her free hand in preparation for the next strike, while the world around them shifted and changed.

Her hand moved away from the grains of sand as the desert all around them seemed to freeze. The heat vanished as if it had never existed, as if the sun had never beat down upon the ground until it dried up and turned into nothing more than a dry husk of its former self. Colour drained from every surface but the only two living beings within this world—Acyutani and Nyadir—leaving everything in shades of grey, including the grey that now hid any brightness behind dark, grey clouds. Within the sand of this world weapons laid, their handles and their blades protruding outwards and towards the endless, grey sky. Their many shapes and sizes varied so much that even Acyutani did not know a few. Some of them worked as normal weapons would, while others would fall apart with rust and a select few were even enchanted, with something useful or detrimental was yet to be seen. The wind that had helped to cool their bodies before now grew still, and the air seemed like nothing more than the stale breath of death as it washed over your face and filled your nostrils, choking you. Even the obsidian spires did not escape the effects of the transformation. They crumbled and fell to the sand below as if thousands of years were passing and exacting their rage upon the black stone.

Acyutani did not lie still as the few seconds it took for all of this to happen ticked by. In her free hand a dagger formed, the seven inch blade of which did not glow. Leaning towards him, the Akhetamikan warrior shoved the blade towards his groin, right where the main vein in his leg lay beneath the flesh and muscle. She knew well the affects of this attack when someone else had performed it upon her and she had nearly lost her life. As much as she hated to take the life of Nyadir his position made attacking his Thread of Fate too difficult, and so she forced herself into a killing blow.