To Ragnar, this felt like a breath of fresh air. He couldn’t have put it into words until he had experienced it. But his body had been craving a battle of this sort ever since he turned. Feeling the adrenaline pumping through his veins and being able to exert his abilities to the fullest, his grin couldn’t be wider.
The Nexarion turned around to face Ragnar again. This time he carried a crooked smile on his face, a testament to the result of their recent exchange. He had underestimated this guy and almost let him get to him. It seems like he had more in store than he had accounted for. But that doesn’t change anything. With that thought, he lashed his whip at the ground once more. This time however, the platform that had seemed to be indestructible up until now, had an inch deep scratch that was seething with flames.
Ragnar took this sign to take off once more. He could only resort to using his ability for movement if he wanted to keep up with this guy. Otherwise, he’ll have no chance in this battle. So, his body again disappeared from the spot.
His opponent though, seemed to tell him that even with this ability, he still had no chance. As he simply stood there, matching his gaze with the fast-moving body of Ragnar. Before Ragnar could get any close, a flaming coil appeared in front of his face out of nowhere.
He dodged to the left with another resounding boom as waves shot out from his right. He hoped to catch him off guard as he prepared to shoot forward again. But before he could, he saw the whip an inch away from his chest. He had no clue as to how it could have appeared there so quick. Ragnar knew he couldn’t dodge it this time. It was about to touch and ruin his brand-new clothes.
But how could he let that happen, his dagger came into view as it tried to coil around the tip of the whip. What happened next was something that the Nexarion couldn’t have imagined even in his worst nightmares. The tip of his whip was sliced away like butter. The Whip that was his Spectral Perk.
His shock was well deserved as the Spectral Perks were the physical manifestation of a Spectral’s core. It might sound too fragile to be even considered for combat, almost as if fighting with a glass stick that basically holds their life. But that was hardly the case. The Spectral Perks were as tough, if not tougher than a Mystic’s body. And the abilities they provided couldn’t be overlooked. Finally, even if they did get damaged, the core isn’t directly hurt, instead it is the flow of their essence which is disrupted until they heal.
So, using the Perk in battle is an obvious choice for every Spectral, since usually, when someone is strong enough to damage the Perk, then they are probably strong enough to completely decimate their wielders without them. However, in this case, Ragnar wasn’t quite there yet.
He had either underestimated his opponent’s might, or overestimated the quality of weapons provided by the arena. His dagger snapped in half as the whip received a tug from its owner.
Despite that, neither of them paused for the briefest of moments. The whip came back in the next instant, raging like a dragon, and Ragnar got rid of the dagger. Even though it might have sacrificed itself in the process, the dagger could be said to have served its purpose. As the whip was visibly slower, at least to Ragnar, who was whizzing around on the platform dodging it from left to right.
Even though he was successfully dodging it, he was still having a tough time getting on the offensive. Whenever he thought about going in for an attack, the Nexarion would somehow find a way to block him, forcing him to dodge again.
Even though it looked like he was just dodging, the Nexarion knew that he was in no better spot. As he was barely able to keep him at bay. If things got to close quarter combat, then he couldn’t be so confident. As he was considering his options though, he suddenly felt the whip stop in place, as if hooked on to something.
“For Fu*k’s sake!”, whispered Aura as she had a worried look on her face. Kalix gave her a weird look as he didn’t think a lady of such a renowned family would speak out such words. But Aura couldn’t control it as this guy had again done exactly what she told him not to.
He had to do it. Ragnar had finally decided to take things into his own hands. Literally. He coiled the whip around his hand as it made sizzling noises with his skin. It had burned the clothes around that area upon contact. The skin under the clothes had also started to turn brown as the Nexarion watched in disbelief.
He had basically won at this point. If he wanted, then he could end this guy’s life right this instant. What was he thinking? He decided to avoid taking things too far and just planned on asking him to surrender. But before he could get the chance to, he felt a tug.
Ragnar pulled the whip with his waves powering his hands. The Nexarion came flying as he decided to activate his ability mid-air, but in the next instant, he felt a fist smashing into his face, sending him flying back to his initial position. Ragnar’s hand that should have blasted into smithereens seemed to only show signs of a few burns here and there.
The spectators were just as confused as the Nexarion. They all wondered why he would get hit in the face, and still not use his ability to end this battle in an instant, because they knew he could. They had been watching his fights for months, and by this point, they all usually end. The only way the people above him are able to keep their ranks is by completely avoiding any contact during their battles. So why was he allowing this Arcane to throw him around like this.
Aura had her mouth open in an ‘O’ as she was at a loss for words. Why do things always seem to work out for him? In every situation.
However, after that attack, Ragnar was forced to let go of the whip lest he completely burns his arm off. It seemed that things did go just as he guessed they would. This thought had hit Ragnar as soon as Aura had mentioned the specifics of the Nexarion’s ability. Yeah, he was listening quite keenly despite how he might have looked. It would appear that in order for his ability to work, it needed his Essence to travel into the other person’s body. Those words had instantly told him that this ability would be useless against him. His body being of the Class that it was, would in no way allow another person’s essence to invade it.
He was complexly trusting his guts on this one as he truly believed that even if his opponent was a Mystic instead, this sort of ability still wouldn’t have had any effect on him.
That’s what it means to be a Primordial.
The Nexarion managed to find his footing as he looked bewildered and quite lost. He had never experienced this before. Why did this guy seem to not react the way he should have? All he seemed to have achieved are some third-degree burns.
“W-Why?”, he asked.
“Defeat me and I might tell you.”, he answered.
Despite seeing his obvious victory ahead of him, Ragnar was not the least bit thrilled right now. It was painfully obvious to him how much he was relying on his ability. Since the only things he had been using until now, were his ability and his reflexes. And this orange haired whip-lasher had managed to completely shut him off from landing an attack. Ragnar had no way of closing in the distance.
His skills from his heydays could only be so useful against a True Spectral.
Thanks for the story so far!
While I am sad to see the story stop for now, I absolutely agree that writing is something that should be fun, not a chore. I hope you can get the joy of writing back at some point.
Have fun with Terraria!