This was the last thing Tsav wanted.
His tactics usually followed one of three patterns: provoke his opponent into attacking, scare them enough to make them flee, or maintain his distance while he waited for the perfect moment to strike.
To be honest, he’d been a little disappointed when his opponent took the bait and attacked. The other two options made things a lot easier.
Close-range combat, huh? …Just great. Last time this happened, back in Ioff, I had an awful time of it.
Tsav later learned that his opponent back then had been Shiji Bau, a former soldier with an extremely unique sacred seal–engraved weapon. Tsav hadn’t gotten hurt due to his own stupidity—no human alive could have dealt with an attack like that without any preparation. Well, except for Xylo, but he was an exception.
There’s something really wrong with that guy. And that bothered him. If I don’t do something quick, I’m gonna look like some helpless weakling. What do you think?
He wanted to ask Xylo how he felt. Tsav had never been fond of his teammates, but he couldn’t stand the idea that they might think he was incompetent. Dotta, Norgalle, and even Venetim—though Tsav hated to admit it—possessed unique skills. By comparison, he might be more versatile, but he was ultimately still their inferior.
I can do this.
His reasoning might be shallow, but it filled him with determination. He had to finish this before the other faeries showed up. That was his time limit.
The lizard-man closed in. He was surprisingly agile, and his insect-like arms ended in nasty hooked claws. Tsav dodged his attacks with minimal movement as a stale, sweet scent filled the air.
Is this the poison?
Tsav had a pretty good idea of what kind it was and of what it did. He knew he could win, but it wasn’t going to be easy.
“Too slow,” he taunted, swinging his blade to counter.
It was the weapon he’d stolen from Necrus, its blade extending from his elbow to his wrist—ideal for close-quarters combat. The sword found its mark, striking the lizard-man’s exposed neck. But it grazed off the faerie’s skin with a clink.
“Is that it?” The lizard laughed as it swung its massive tail, sending Tsav flying backward until he crashed into the wall.
Yep, that hurts.
But Tsav didn’t let the pain show on his face. Instead, he calmly assessed the effectiveness of his counter. He’d thought the creature’s exoskeleton was limited to its limbs, but its crimson skin was far tougher than he’d expected. He’d only managed a shallow cut, about the width of a finger.
This lizard-man was incredibly resilient, with forearms tough enough to deflect bolts from a lightning staff, a venomous poison capable of mobilizing most people, and the agility of a savage beast.
No wonder he’s so cocky. But that makes him easy to provoke.
He saw something of himself in the lizard-man. With raw power like this, he couldn’t allow himself to appear incompetent. Maybe he’d taken Tsav’s bait so easily because he was trying to prove himself to someone.
“You seem pretty confident, human. Arrogant, too.” The lizard faerie lunged. “I just love eating humans like you.”
The creature charged directly at Tsav, then abruptly feinted, shifting its trajectory with a powerful leap toward the left wall. Tsav’s eyes followed its movement, but he deliberately restrained himself, choosing not to fire his lightning staff. He wanted to draw the creature in closer, to wait for just the right moment.
Then, just as they passed each other, he deflected the lizard-man’s right and left claws with his sword. When he did so, Tsav stumbled slightly. The pain from the tail strike he’d suffered earlier still pulsed in his stomach.
Or at least, that was what he wanted his opponent to think.
“See?” the faerie said, laughing and baring its fangs. “I’m on a different level than you lowly humans!”
Now’s my chance, thought Tsav. He leaped backward to create some distance, or at least, that was how it appeared. The lizard-man naturally lunged toward him.
Just then, the ground below him exploded.
A flash of flames and a cloud of smoke engulfed the creature. Though the blast was small, it severed the creature’s foot clean off at the ankle.
The explosion had been triggered by a semi-ancient relic—the smoke signal flare that had been lying on the floor perfectly intact until Xylo’s knife had pierced it. The lizard-man stumbled, now missing a leg and unable to see through the thick smoke.
“H-hurry up and finish him off. Should be easy for you, right?” grunted Xylo.
His timing was perfect. That’s my bro for you.
Xylo had an uncanny sense for combat. It was like he could read his teammates’ minds. Tsav thought he must have honed the skill during his many missions alongside the goddesses. Xylo might not realize it, but he had an extraordinary ability to infer other people’s intentions, especially in battle.
That must be why he always ties everything people do back to fighting.
Tsav almost wanted to laugh.
“You’re right,” he said as he moved through the smoke. “We are on different levels, you pathetic lizard.” He hoped to further provoke his opponent, though he suspected he’d only set him at ease with such an obvious taunt. “I’m ending you with this next attack. Think you can block it?”
At that point, the creature had only one option: retreat to safety. He wasn’t here to kill his targets. The plan had been to leave them to the approaching horde of faeries. Coming after Tsav, who was immune to his poison, was just an ego trip.
“…You fool,” came a muffled voice from within the smoke. “Whatever you do, you’ll meet the same end. Your efforts are futile.”
Looks like it’s trying to climb up the pile of rubble to escape through the vent.
“Enjoy being the faeries’ next feast,” said the lizard-man.
“Thanks for talking so much. I really appreciate it.”
Tsav had been goading the creature to elicit a response so he could locate him in the smoke.
I know how ya feel, man. It’s hard to keep your mouth shut when someone’s taunting you. I bet you had complete confidence in yourself, too.
Tsav casually activated the lightning staff in his left hand, firing at the pile of junk as a blinding flash instantly illuminated the surrounding space. The lizard-man might have been preparing to defend, or perhaps attempting to dodge—but ultimately, that was irrelevant.
A sharp, unnatural bang echoed through the room—a precise shot that struck the lizard-man as he climbed toward the vent.
It was an unconventional shot. The lightning’s trajectory was wildly askew, almost a guaranteed miss. And yet the attack connected precisely because of its unpredictability. The impact was devastating. It tore open the lizard-man’s chest and sent him crashing to the ground, sending fragments of flesh and splintered bone in all directions.
A perfect ricochet sniper shot.
The smoke began to clear. Of course, it was only ever meant to be a momentary smoke screen.
Lightning staffs’ bolts don’t bounce off walls, but…
Tsav had spotted the large horned helmet lying at the edge of the pile of junk—the semi-ancient armor crafted for human-on-human combat and specifically designed to repel attacks from lightning staffs. Tsav had exploited his newfound knowledge to catch the lizard faerie off guard.
“You worked hard. Lasted a while, too.”
Tsav’s compliment only made the lizard furious. Or at least, its shrieks sounded pretty angry. The jarring noise sounded like metal tearing apart, but it was the last sound the creature made.
Tsav fired another bolt of lightning at the lizard-man, and his body convulsed violently. He coughed up a pool of thick, sticky blood, then he fell silent.
“All done, Bro. What’d you think? Looks like once again, it’s all thanks to me that—”
Just as Tsav turned around, an unsettling feeling came over him. Something was wrong. He sensed movement through the remaining smoke. And his instincts were nearly always right.
Immediately, a glint of metal flickered at his feet—a blade.
“I figured you’d be able to move by now,” he said.
With a metallic clang, Tsav parried the strike. Necrus had a sword in his left hand. He’d managed to untie himself, but that wasn’t much of a surprise. It was a simple enough task, given enough time. It seemed the man had a high tolerance for poison as well. And the one the lizard-man had used was like strong alcohol—meant to incapacitate, not kill.
“Necrus, you should stop while you’re ahead. You know you can’t beat me, right?”
“Shut…up…!”