Favonia was unhard. She struck out with a fist that would have sent Krahe flying, just as before, had the woman not skimd straight through her. A simple kick — a pivot of the body on one leg, barely engaging in proper generation of power — ought to have caught that evasion, but again, Krahe evaded, eruptions of scarlet fla from her left arm shifting her out of the path by a hair’s breadth. Another swing of the flaming sword followed, this ti accompanied by an explosive-tipped tendril and another exhalation of smoke. Krahe was speeding up, and to match her pace, so did Favonia.
Soon enough, Favonia was punching with enough force to leave so lasting injuries. Krahe knew this, in no small part by the thunderclaps and gusts of wind that ca about from the monstrous saint’s re movents, but her mind didn’t register it as a problem. It was a fact, and she had to contend with it using the tools she had at her disposal.
At so point, they ceased talking altogether, and at so point, Krahe stopped registering much of anything outside the present mont. She wasn’t sure when, but the first couple punches that almost took her head off had served well enough to clear her head of any stray thoughts, and there was no ti for new stray thoughts to take their place. There was only the fight. At so point, Krahe staged another jumping attack, only this ti, she skimd directly into the ground, and using the principle of inverted montum, attempted to land a rising uppercut. Favonia didn’t budge, and simply threw her to the side.
This was enough for her to co to the conclusion that none of “her own” tools would suffice. She had known this already, but now she had thoroughly proven that fact both to herself and to Favonia.
“I think it’s pretty clear by now that nothing I am capable of doing under my own power will suffice to make you move from where you stand,” Krahe said, approaching even as she did, forming bursters in both hands. Both were smoke.
“And yet you do not yield. There is a reason,” Favonia said. She knew that reason. Krahe knew that she knew. It didn’t matter.
With Krahe’s exhalation, a beast of accursed smoke took shape to flood the surroundings once again, and the two bursters went flying when she summoned a pillar of smoky jade beneath her own feet to send herself into the air. Favonia simply punched it in half from twenty ters away as it rose, but having expected this, Krahe wrenched a large piece of the stone using several Tar tendrils, throwing them Favonia’s way. In the mont afterwards, she marshaled every iota of throughput at her disposal to turn her left arm into a booster, throwing herself through the air straight at Favonia. Before the banisher could punch her out of the air as she had done far too many tis during this session, Krahe entered astro dive, erged just before landing, and skimd into the ground. As the force bounced her upward and her perception of ti froze, for just a mont, she pushed her will into the Crimson Star Ring.
There was nothing to be done after that.
No matter her strength, her attribute ratings, whatever techniques she had, within the format agreed upon, Favonia could not defend against this, because she couldn’t prevent the Crimson Star Ring from moving her from where she stood.
“Your sword, is it?” Favonia questioned with amusent in her voice as she sat up from the tomb of sand she had been pressed into.
“The sword made of my own bones is nothing more than the power I have accumulated. This ring beca “my sword” the mont I pulled it- picked it up from the greasy stain that had once been Semzar Hashem. If it cos down to it, I’ll gladly drown the dragon in corpses and stolen treasures,” Krahe retorted, reaching out a hand. Favonia didn’t need the held, and Krahe was by far the more injured between the two of them, but she took it anyway, and damn near pulled Krahe’s shoulder out of its socket just by doing so.
“That sword analogy needs work,” Favonia said.
“It served its purpose, it can hang on the wall for all I care,” Krahe said. A new problem assailed her — that sword analogy. Sohow it irritated her now that the fight was over. She didn’t even use a sword.
“Regardless, I believe I now have a sufficient grasp to aid you in so small way. Co. Let us rest. We can speak on the matter of your unstable thauma-burning thod once you don’t look like you’re half a step from death’s door. Your movent technique… I can’t help you there. It clearly requires a specific battle-trance, and based on what Casus has said you are already pursuing the solution to that problem.”
And rest, indeed, they did. Favonia readily parted with pills that, to Krahe, felt as if they had a similar potency to the Molting Tonic, at least in the way they seed to just wash away the exhaustion and force her wounds to nd so quickly that her many cuts and bruises gave off steam and visibly shed dead tissue. Toxicity buildup wasn’t exactly a concern for her, given the fact she wouldn’t have access to these pills outside of what Favonia supplied to her.
As they rested — that is to say, as Krahe rested and as Favonia ate enough for three n — Krahe explained so things that she felt their bout might have failed to fully get across. The most important of these possibly-missing pieces was more or less everything Krahe knew about the Astral Implosion Furnace. Krahe went on to sleep for a full hour with the aid of adefron incense. She had felt no reservations about doing this because, as far as she was concerned, awake or asleep would have made no difference if Favonia were to decide to harm her. The nap helped, albeit not much. She was certain she would be feeling the consequences of their sparring match for the next several days.
Krahe found that Favonia was in exactly the sa position she had been in when she fell asleep.
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