It took all of Kryos’ concentration to see through the hazy flurry of strikes and counterstrikes. He thought that he had secured victory at his initial rush until the troublesome wizard starting throwing in bolts of lightning here and there. From how the man used his abilities, Kryos knew that he had more experience at combat. Thanks to the unknown gods, as well as his physical ability, he had managed to remain mostly unscathed. The cool caress of evening wind upon his skin revealed cuts in his shirt over his left collarbone, as well as the back of his gloved hand. It came down to a race against time, and whether or not he could hold out until his gray eyes finished their shift to silver.
No matter how he attacked, no matter the speed or frequency, his swords only seemed to be met by the twisted daggers that danced in the drunkard’s hands. Something didn’t make sense. Never before had he been unable to even scratch his opponent. There must be another factor in play.
Another oscillating arc of light warned Kryos of the impending spell. He had no time to think, only to react. He dodged to the right, but not fast enough. Desperate to avoid the shock, he relinquished his grip on the sword in his left hand. Hysterical crackling enveloped the steel, light racing along its length as it soared over the darkened rooftop. The hairs on his arm stood on edge in its wake.
Both hands now wielding his elven sword, he deflected the quick succession of blows, but not without a line of icy fire streaking across his forearm. His breath hissed out between clenched teeth and he jumped back across the grooved metal roof, seeking a respite. None came as the glimmer of first blood intensified the assault. He needed to change the focus, and now.
Two can play at this game.
Midnight tendrils of fragmenting flame rose from his arms and sword as he called forth his magic. While harmless without direct contact, his show of power bought enough time to regain his footing.
The wind swept away the sound of their heavy breathing in a momentary pause. Blood traced down his arm and fell to the roof with an almost inaudible plink that reminded him that he needed to finish things quickly. At this rate, he didn’t know if he could last through the remainder of the sunset. He quickly glanced to the far horizon.
Soon, but not soon enough.
He sprung forward, steel once again seeking blood. As he expected, the blade magically went wide, altogether missing its mark. He pivoted and, ebony spirals of magic enveloping his fist, closed the distance in what he well knew to be a huge gamble. At this point, though, he didn’t have the luxury of many other options.
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