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Chapter 182 - Chains And Anger



The chains which had previously blocked Gregen's path came alive with a blue mist and slid towards Trak. Gregen rushed forward with a dark light in his eyes and dense layers of life essence around his arms. A red aura emanated from his black blade as he got closer, which made Doevm click his tongue. He ran towards Thomas but Frey intercepted him. Sword met shield. Thomas ran around the two and came face to face with the mace-wielder.

Doevm engaged Trak, who sighed and the chains covering his body moved. They rose into the air like snakes - hissing a metallic tune and giving a warning rattle. "I had hoped to avoid this."

"No you didn't," Doevm growled as he activated his life essence, which was lighter (in hue) than Trak's. He took an underhand stance and let the chains come to him. Trak moved his arms and the chains moved with him. Doevm thrust his spear over and over again, parrying the chains away. Each time the two weapons met, vibrations were sent down the shaft and tested the strength of Doevm's grip. If that weren't distracting enough, the chains constantly circled his weapon, threatening to rip it straight from his hands.

Elero lept out from behind Doevm. Longsword met two curved swords. Her opponent moved life essence to his hair, which extended and drew his third blade. Each time one of those curved swords was deflected away, the blades flashed as if shooting off a bolt of lightning. Dots invaded Elero's vision and blocked her view of her opponent. "You're no fun." She threw her longsword into her spatial ring and extended her nails with bits of life essence. They bound together and sharpened. Elero moved faster but as the seconds dragged on like hours, she was slowly being pushed back. Cuts still appeared on her skin. Her opponent cackled: "You're going to regret fighting me, you metal-legged freak-"

The last words cut out. A massive mace tore craters into the semi-solid ground, inches from where Thomas had just been. The mace kept tearing into everything around it, almost catching Gregen at one point, who glared back. Thomas tightened his grip on his spear with his one working arm. The other hung limp at his side, too sore to even move. "Doevm, what should I do?" Doevm didn't look over, simply giving a slight shrug in between blows.

"Useless people like you really piss me off," The mace-wielder huffed. "You don't deserve to be here you spineless wretch." Thomas ran around him but the man just whipped around and nearly took his head off.

"And you…" Thomas's voice trailed off. His lungs were too busy inhaling as much air as they could get. He fell to a knee and his breakfast slopped out of his mouth and onto his shaky, sweaty legs.

"I knew that's all you had. You're just a dead weight." The mace descended but it was its wielder who got hurt, since Frey had been blown back into him. A large, sword-shaped dent in his shield repaired itself within seconds, but the cut on the side of his neck did not.

Gregen jumped at him again, uncaring that his comrade was still directly behind Frey. When the sword connected to the shield, the red aura condensed and shot out. Even though the shield had absorbed some of the slice with an ear-piercing grinding of metal, Frey and Thomas's opponent flew back into a tree. The mace-wielder coughed and slid down, limp. Frey however, got to his feet. The shield was just barely hanging together.

The nobles which had been unconscious this whole time, slowly opened their eyes. When they looked around, they tried to move, but Trak's chains encumbered them.

"Watch it Gregen!" Trak yelled over. His chains wrapped around Doevm's legs and rooted him to the spot, so he took a second to look over. "Friendly fire is not acceptab-" Doevm's last two throwing knives bounced off the chains around his chest. He bent over in a fit of coughing. Next, an empty bottle shattered against his skull. He fell to his knees. The chains went slack, allowing Doevm just enough room to slip out.

Gregen didn't seem to hear Trak. His attention affixed themselves to Thomas. A smile formed on his face, illuminated by his glowing eyes. The aura on his sword seemed to grow darker and writhed in a sadistic pleasure. "Finally, I can beat the shit out of one of your kind." His smile disappeared when Frey hopped between them. His shield once again repairing itself and morphed from the original tower shape back to its circular shape. He changed his spear out for his Kopis. "Move it traitor," Gregen hissed. "You don't owe them anything."

"I owe enough," Frey held firm when Gregen charged forward, but instead of the sword connecting with the shield, it was his foot. Gregen kept his momentum as he lept over Frey and raised his sword overhead. Thomas shrunk back.

Gregen's blade sunk into the ground a few inches short. He clicked his tongue and glanced back at the hand wrapped around his ankle. Frey groaned. Life essence appeared around his arm. He dragged Gregen over his shoulder before slamming him into the ground harder than Elero's life essence-reinforced nails into two of her opponent's swords.

The swords flew away, but strands of hair picked them up and returned them to her opponent. "Now it's my turn." Elero's nails changed back to normal. She picked up the fallen mace and charged forward.

Her opponent went back into his rhythmic assault but she slapped his swords away with a bit of life essence protecting her arm. She stepped forward and raised her weapon. The mace's ginormous shadow enveloped the opponent, whose eyes went wide. He jumped back too late. The mace went down and…nothing. Elero cursed. Chains rattled around her weapon, preventing it from moving. Another set of chains lashed out, forcing her to let go of the weapon and jump over them. "Doevm, what the hell?" She looked over to find that Doevm was still battling with Trak. Links of chains emerged from his body and wrapped around everything in the vicinity.

"I'm doing my fucking best here." Doevm's spear was ripped from his hands. Both mace and his own spear lashed out at him along with another link of chains. Elero's opponent once again engaged her, going in for swipe after swipe. No matter how many strange angles she would turn, he always seemed to be able to bend the same way before striking down. She couldn't keep up with it all and kept getting hit. The wounds however, sealed shut under a layer of life essence. Then she felt a viscous, warm liquid spray over her back. She glanced back to find Frey, who held part of his broken shield. He had a deep cut along his shoulder. His dented spear was bent at an angle.

"Your weapon is done for," Gregen said. He had to take heavy breaths and limped on his swollen ankle. "Now get out of my fucking face already." Frey held his spear to his own bloody clothes. The stains disappeared as the spear's bloodwood shaft sucked the blood away and repaired itself. "Interesting," Gregen muttered as he circled around Frey. "I wonder. How much blood did you lose just now? There has to be some kind of consequence for that power, right? Isn't that wood from the Bloodwood forest? The one formed from the Forbidden One's fight?" Only half of the words made sense to Frey, whose senses were dulling. "Why are you fighting so hard for a noble's sake? Is he worth more than your family? More than your friends? He can't even hold his weapon right now."

"Shut up!" Thomas yelled over, holding his arm. He tried to move his other arm, which just barely clung to his spear. He winced and cursed.

"And you risk your life for him?" Gregen laughed before he swung. Frey parried with his shield and was knocked out of his stance. Then came Gregen's fist. Frey's nose crushed and fresh blood dripped into his mouth. Gregen flipped his blade over to the dull side. He raised it. Frey's world began to darken. "Go to sleep,"

Thomas pulled Frey by the back of his shirt. Gregen swung at the open air. Frey hit the ground with a light thud, crunching anything below him. "L-listen fuckface," Thomas stuttered. "Y-you're just an ogre with parents…don't want to see you."

Gregen wasn't amused. His target presented itself so he swung, knocking the spear straight out of Thomas's hand.

"You can still surrender you know," Trak said. Doevm dove into a section of mud over and over again. Each time he emerged dirtier than before. He began to weave in between the chains slower, but when they tried to wrap around him, he simply slipped out. Trak raised an eyebrow. He increased the pace and condensing his life essence further around the chains, which whistled through the air.

"Better idea." Doevm groaned as his spear ripped into the side of his arm. "Retreat! Now!"

"We're a little busy at the moment!" Thomas said as fell right next to Doevm. He got to his feet and let out several dry coughs. "This idiot is persistent as hell!" He rushed in, life essence around his legs. He tried to grab at his opponent, but Gregen was faster. His blade ripped into Thomas's side. Dark blood poured out of Thomas's side. Thomas coughed out the last of his air and fell to a knee. Gregen raised his sword, his target: Thomas's neck.

'Move,' Frey thought as he got to his feet, life essence wrapped around his legs. He tried to throw his spear, but the pain in his shoulder stopped him. 'Power. Come on. Activate!'

Elero, who had just beaten the crap out of her opponent, glanced over and cursed. Doevm grabbed at his throwing knives, but there were none left. A chain link flew out and knocked the blade from Gregen's hands.

Trak yelled over: "Don't kill them you idiot. This isn't the front lines." Thomas used the chance to bolt away. He grabbed Frey and, with the last of his energy, carried the giant off. Doevm and Elero followed behind, completely abandoning the battle. Trak didn't chase them. Rather, he threw Doevm his spear back to him.

"I bare you no hatred!" Trak's voice rang out. The land in this part of the swamp was solid, so the group of four kept running without even taking the time to pull out their Amphiboards. "It seems your group is a little different! I hope you live up to my expectations!" Right before Trak got out of sight, a dozen or so people emerged from the bushes, all with black, charcoal-like masks. Each of the dozen breathed hard and were covered in sweat. "We are going back!" Was the last that they heard, the last Thomas and Frey heard before they both passed out.


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