B4 Chapter 518: Tyrannomachia, pt. 4

The Tyrant’s suppressive ability was Authority, Kaius knew it immediately. 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. Mercurial Reversal barely gave him the edge, but he managed to get his blade in the path of the Tyrant’s meteoric overhands. Even supported by the soul empowering effects of his Animus and his Alabaster Refinement, 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 time 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 slammed into his stomach.

Deep within him, he felt something 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 moments since the Tyrant had struck — they hadn’t had the time 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 measure of the strange force and resisted it with their Will, but it would take time. 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. Something 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. Mentis and The Veteran’s Edge helped him to track the Tyrant’s movements and search for openings, even while he simultaneously followed his team’s recovery. Corporus helped him adjust, every movement 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 immediately. Urged by Moment 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 shimmered 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 same 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 some of that mobility with his Sanctified Lilyfield.”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Got it,” his brother replied.

The Tyrant was on him a moment 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 slammed 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 reinforcement 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 immediately.