The Tyrant’s suppressive ability was Authority, Kaius knew it imdiately. It was an aura of slaughter; one that attacked him from every angle like a hoard of ravenous beasts. He could taste the tang of blood in the air, a sparking potency that prickled against his skin.
He’d known it was likely — Dross’s description had sounded far too close to his own experiences with the force for him to suspect anything else. Nor was he a fool, he’d martialed his own sphere of control long before the Tyrant had reached the chosen location of their confrontation.
It mattered little. Despite preparing, the Tyrant’s Authority crushed his own. It was like he hadn’t even refined, his growth in potency and control changing nothing. While it wasn’t enough to disable him, it rocked him like a punch to the jaw — putting him on the back foot.
Before he could blink, the Tyrant was on him.
Dripping mandibles spread into the mockery of a smile as it drove its full weight through its hips. Two right hands rocketed straight towards his head, burning with gleaming red fire.
Kaius staggered back, his blade zipping through the air in a blur. rcurial Reversal barely gave him the edge, but he managed to get his blade in the path of the Tyrant’s teoric overhands. Even supported by the soul empowering effects of his Animus and his Alabaster Refinent, the Tyrant’s aura made his blade feel leaden; his body weak.
His blade edge bit deep, but failed to cut through the patchy chitin lining its forearms. It was strong, cackling as he was shoved back. Still drowning in its Authority, Kaius reeled. When the Tyrant dove in, rolling low into a savage uppercut, he barely had the ti to react. Twisting his wrists, he cleaved in a high to low arc in the hope of driving it back.
He was fast, the Tyrant was faster.
A burning fist slamd into his stomach.
Deep within him, he felt sothing tear. Spittle and blood exploded from his mouth as the hit lifted him from the ground. Kaius gasped — stunned in the opening move, he’d allowed the Tyrant to fully regain the initiative. He couldn’t let that continue.
Mind racing, he took in the battlefield in an instant. His team had fared worse than him in the initial shock of the Tyrant’s authority. They were moving, but only just. It had been bare monts since the Tyrant had struck — they hadn’t had the ti to adjust. Rieker and Arc were worse. The two golds were bowing under the pressure, faces white and strained. He could see them recovering as they got the asure of the strange force and resisted it with their Will, but it would take ti. Authority was foreign, and they didn’t even have the support of simple unembodied Aspects to support them. Fighting back with Will alone, even the Will of Golds with decades of experience, was difficult.
He needed to give them that. He could manage a defensive fight. Sothing to keep the monstrosity occupied. For his team too — they were recovering swifter thanks to their control of their own Authorities, but they hadn’t Refined, and they lacked Kaius’s Animus. Without The Ceaseless Warrior improving his control of his Will and his resistance of the Tyrant’s influence, he would have been in a far worse spot.
While the speed of its assault had caught him off guard, its Authority was not unbeatable. It wasn’t the weight of an adamant titan like he had felt from Xenanra. He could do this.
Focusing on the pain of his wounds, Kaius felt his Aspects surge within him. ntis and The Veteran’s Edge helped him to track the Tyrant’s movents and search for openings, even while he simultaneously followed his team’s recovery. Corporus helped him adjust, every movent under the foreign strain of Authority growing just a little easier.
As they flared, his Authority solidified. It was still crushed flat to his skin, but it was stable; he could move.
Energy surged through the Tyrant’s legs as it crouched low. It was coming for him — he would be ready.
“Cattle, just like the rest of them,” the Tyrant sneered.
The hardbaked earth of their arena crumbled as the monstrosity leapt upwards in an explosion of dust.
Kaius reacted imdiately. Urged by Mont of Flow, a cracking boom filled the air as he shot down at a sharp angle, away from the rising Tyrant. It was airborne. There was no way to dodge — not that he’d seen just yet.
A crackling Lash snapped into existence, a cutting blue light that shimred over his polished armour. Kaius struck. Crackling arcs wrapped around the Tyrant’s body, imbued with destructive resonance from his Spellblade’s Harmonic Control.
Jerking from the sudden assault, the Tyrant let out a hissing chuckle as it landed heavily. “Perhaps not. You might have fangs after all.”
Kaius didn’t bother replying, his blade snapping up as he ran in. Warping ripples overlaid the world as Slipstep lengthened his steps.
Its monstrous Authority had forced his Aspects to respond. Essence flowed through him without conscious effort, bolstering him against its influence. Kaius could feel the sa happening within Porkchop, his progress surging.
No doubt it was happening to the rest of his team too. A trial by fire that was certain to push his teammates over the brink — if they survived.
They would be free in a couple of heartbeats, he could tell.
“Play it off — strike when I have it distracted. Coordinate with Ianmus, we need to cut through so of that mobility with his Sanctified Lilyfield.”
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“Got it,” his brother replied.
The Tyrant was on him a mont later. It was a typhoon; a living conflagration that struck at him with ceaseless ferocity. Two arms went high, a pincering strike that would crush his skull, another went low, and the last ripped for his ribs. Kaius knew instantly that he couldn’t avoid all of them.
Ducking low, he slipped under its heavy hooks and he twisted right. His blade swept out, catching the arm that raced for his belly. The last slamd into his ribs. A deep crack resonated through his chest as three of the bones splintered. Every breath sparked like lightning, but he knew it could have been worse. Without the reinforcent that Brotherhood of Ichor and Animus had brought his skeleton, they would have been utterly crushed.
Kaius shoved the pain deep, and gave ground. In seconds they clashed again and again, a constant barrage that he weathered as best he could. His skin boiled, his flesh was pulped, and bones cracked — but he stood tall. Bit by bit, he maneuvered the Tyrant until his team was at its back.
They struck imdiately.
Ghostly lilies sprouted from the ground, their wavering stems wrapping the Tyrant tight. The resistance was sudden, staggering it as it was forced to fight for every movent. Porkchop exploded into motion. Swelling to the full size, and then growing further with Gladespirit, spectral antlers appeared on his demon-faced helm as he charged. Every step shook the ground.
A spiking paw slamd down. The Tyrant growled, spinning to et the blow with hands of red fire. Every bit of its body shook from the collision, but it still stood tall — pressing back against the full might of a greater les.
The sight sent a chill down Kaius’s spine. With how swift it was, he hadn’t expected the creature to be able to go toe to toe with Porkchop on strength alone.
It was still pinned; he couldn’t let the mont go to waste. The temptation to reach for VOS was strong — but was it worth it? They had no read on its durability, or recovery, and he could only use the skill once or twice, he couldn’t waste it.
Kaius dashed in, three nails erupting from his outstretched arm as Mystic’s Rend crackled on the edge of his blade. In the sa mont, a burst of burning rays splashed against the Tyrant’s unguarded chest, leaving trails of smoking black in their wake. An arrow followed, elongated into a lance packed with explosive potential.
Letting the rays fall upon it, the Tyrant hissed in pain. One leg snapped out, an arc of fire roasting Porkchop’s lightly armoured belly. It broke their contested bind, spinning away as Kenva’s Bare Thy Heart missed its chest by a hair's breadth. One of Kaius’s Nails clipped its ribs, boring a bloody furrow, but the rest went wide. Orange-yellow blood dripped from the wound.
Kaius eyed the injury, a savage smile spilling across his face. Rieker and Arc were still acclimatising to its Authority, but they had it on the back foot. They’d spilled first blood — he knew in his bones that they could do this.
Mana flooded the Tyrant’s legs as it burst away before he could press their advantage. The ghostly white flowers that littered the battlefield pulled against the creature, but it simply leapt out of their reach.
It skid to a halt at the edge of the Lilyfield, chuckling.
“To strike with such deception — how daring, how righteous.”
Its praise only incensed the rhythmic pounding in his blood.
“Go!” he barked, an Expedient Shunt imdiately accelerating him to a full sprint.
Porkchop kept pace. A shield line erupted in front of him, his summoned Phalanx charging with leveled spears.
The Tyrant leapt back — but for a critical mont, it only had eyes for Porkchop’s sudden charge. Kaius felt the opening all but sing to him, Sergeant’s Insight drawing his attention to a small opening in its guard.
Refreshing his cast of Slipstep, he was by its side in an instant. He dipped low, blade lancing out in a one-handed fencer's thrust. His offhand swept to the sky, wreathed in the crackling power of the storm.
Stormlash wracked the Tyrant, attacking it from within in the sa mont he cracked through its carapace and slid his blade ho. Mystic’s Rend detonated, ejecting a spray of blood that splattered against Kaius’s chest.
His backline didn’t miss the opening either. Two rays of solar magic slamd into its chest, blackening its carapace as an arrow followed close behind.
Howling, the Tyrant ripped itself free of his sword — but it was too slow to avoid Kenva’s shot. The arrow slamd into its belly, burying itself up to the fletching. Scowling, it ripped the arrow free as it flew back, dust clouding its movents.
They pressed, and the Tyrant gave ground. It was too damned fast to pin down. Their battleground was too open, and it punished every attack they gave with a burning flurry of punches. Even just barely corralling it back into the Sanctified Lilyfield, that was just barely enough for them to keep from getting overwheld. They needed more manpower, they needed—
A towering figure wrapped in bone tore past him, surrounded in a cone of concussive energy. The charge shook the very ground beneath Kaius’s feet as Arc hurled himself towards the waiting Tyrant. Rieker was right behind him, his face twisted into a focused snarl as his warhamrs burned with the power of his Skills.
Each of the Golds split, circling to attack the Tyrant on its flanks.
Kaius grinned; that was what they needed. Falling deep into his bond, a Shunt sent him skyward as Porkchop charged straight towards their enemy. Sweeping his blade high, Kaius seized his Stamina and prepared to use Hellblade Investiture.
He’d like to see the Tyrant slip away now!
Facing their four-pronged assault, the Tyrant saw them co and laughed.
“And so the once-great strike!”
It moved, making no attempt to flee. With decisive vigour, it charged straight at Rieker, as the red fire on its hands flaring brighter. A fools move, there was no way the guildmaster would let it escape, especially not with Sanctified Lilyfield slowing it down.
Rieker roared, one warhamr pulsing with light as it swung for the Tyrant’s chest. Kaius raced to assist, another Shunt redirecting him towards their hated enemy as the rest of their front line fighters converged.
Watching the Tyrant, Kaius realised with a start it wasn’t trying to block the guildmaster’s strike. It ignored the hamr, racing in with a wide smile on its face. Mana built within its chest. The sight of it made sickly suspicion curdle in his stomach. What was it up to?
A nail ripped from his hand with a crack. It could dodge the hamr, or the spell — not both.
At the last possible mont, it chose Kaius’s Nail. It barely grunted as the tal spike punched into its chest. Wires unfolded, but the creature's unnatural constitution fought back, preventing them from worming deep into its flesh.
In the sa mont, a roaring column of fla surrounded it on all sides. In the chaos, it flew out of their encirclent like a cot, trailing embers. Kaius’s stomach dropped as he saw its direction.
The Tyrant was heading right for Ianmus and Kenva. Gods’ scorn!
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