B2 Chapter 244: Sequential Improvements, pt. 2

Rieker let out a barking snarl, his plated boot cracking the tiled stone floor of the training hall with the force of his charge.

Even laden down by his heavy plate the guildmaster was fast—but not so fast that Kaius couldn’t track him. He knew that the man was slowing himself, holding back so that he could actually put up a fight.

The recent spars with Rieker still felt like he was facing up against the siege ogre once again. Every trick he pulled, every burst of strength and speed, was met with even retribution—experience and age giving the Wardog the tools he needed to meet Kaius at a level that forced him to his limit.

Kaius couldn’t help but grin at the shining titan of steel that approached him. Defenseless he might have been against the man’s true might, he still took pride in that he was dangerous enough that Rieker had to don his personal armaments to ensure a lucky strike didn’t cause an injury that would interrupt their confrontation.

This would be their final spar—he knew that in his bones. His team had achieved their goals, having spent the last day more interested in watching him getting beaten and tempered at the hands of a master warrior. Aelina had a single level left, and both his Bladerite and Mystic’s Rend had grown by leaps and bounds.

Another shudder coursed through the floor as Rieker kicked off again, his warhammer rising in a promise of destruction.

Kaius’s senses sharpened, time slowing as he tapped into the rhythmic song that coursed through his blood.

He hungered.

To show the Wardog what he was made of. To finally make him bleed.

Mana surged, two glyphs responding to his will.

Snapping his left hand up, Kaius tapped into his latest spell.

A spike of twisted steel screamed out—as long as his forearm with a base as thick as two thumbs. The air howled at its passage, loosed faster than an arbalest bolt, and a shower of orange motes drifted from the glyph of Drakthar that lay hidden under the scale of his gauntlets.

The world shuddered, sparks of azure drifting from his boots as Kaius lurched forwards—Slip Step shrinking space as he charged forwards, hot on the heels of his Hateful Nail.

The metal spike crossed the hall in the barest of moments. Kaius’s aim was true—honed in the days of his childhood, and remembered in the week of sparring against a superior foe.

Rieker reacted instantly, his hammer blurring to smash the spike aside. A clear ding ran through the air, sparks flying at the collision that sent Kaius’s summoned attack spinning to the side.

The spike morphed a moment later, cruel branches and hooks sprouting from his surface—useless, without flesh and armour to latch on to.

Still fast approaching, Kaius hammered Rieker with another salvo—two Nails warded off with the same ease as the first.

“You’ll have to do better than that, lad.” Rieker said, his voice muffled from the confines of his full helm.

Kaius responded with a crash of thunder—Stormlash lighting the hall blue as it raced towards his opponent with sparking fury.

Driving his foot into the ground, Rieker launched himself to the side. Lighting smote the earth, harmlessly scorching stone.

Racing to meet him, Kaius dipped into another Slip Step. Seizing the mana in his core, he pushed it to his blade.

He had a plan—Will surged into the spell that coursed out from Aelina, held tightly constrained until the moment he needed it.

A wire seared to life along his blade’s edge, warping and shimmering with visible instability. Mystic’s Rend. He’d left a portion of his mana unallocated—enough for a handful of uses of the skill.

Grabbing his blade in both hands, Kaius lunged forwards, dipping his shoulders to roll into a rising slash that would sunder the Wardog from hip to opposing shoulder.

Despite Slip Step making his advance far faster than it should have been, Rieker was ready for him. His warhammer swept down, smashing aside Kaius’s blade with a deafening clang.

Only for the thin edge of unstable arcane along the edge of his blade to detonate outwards from the point of impact. Caustic energy blasted outwards, drowning Riekers arm in volatile blue.

Even familiar with the skill, the guildmaster still grunted as his arm was forced back.

Kaius moved, diving through slip space as his blade grew bright with the vigour of his Bladerite. His hand flashed up from his hilt for the barest of moments, harrying Rieker’s guard with a Hateful Nail.

Rieker blurred, batting the projectile away—only for screaming lightning to follow close behind, a Stormlash binding his arm tight.

The first blow. It barely made the man grunt—his rhythm thrown off for only a fraction of a moment.

It was all Kaius needed.

Pulling his blade in tight to the pit of his arm, coiled strength exploded out into a devastating stab.

The razor sharp crystal point of his blade met the overlapping runed plates that covered Rieker’s chest and stopped fast—skittering across its surface with nary a scratch left behind.

Kaius scowled. He’d aimed for a seam, but the bastard had dropped his shoulder at the last moment, throwing off his aim.

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The Wardog’s retaliation followed quickly.

Leaping back, Kaius’s heart thumped as he saw the descending promise of his opponent’s hammer.

“Good—but you can do better!” Rieker called, racing after him.

Kaius swept his blade up in an attempt to turn the blow—only for Rieker to sweep wide, defying the natural momentum of his swing.

Bone splintered as the hammer smashed into the scales guarding his hip—blunt force transmitted smoothly into the flesh beneath.

Hip shattering it might have been, Kaius still knew that Rieker had held back. He’d seen it once—the Wardog putting his full might into a blow. It was a simple exhibition, an example of how far they had to go.

That blow had atomised the training dummy—a glowing hammer strike of fire and fury.

A familiar itching heat bloomed, his mashed hip reknitting almost as quick as the wound was delivered. Ignoring the dull ache left in the hammer’s wake, Kaius whirled his blade overhead—another thread of explosive wire coating its edge.

Rieker twisted through his hips, switching to a two handed grip as he drew his weapon back to defend against the cleaving blow. A committed defence—an exploitable weakness that left Explorer’s Toolkit crooning in delight, even muted as it was in the confines of the city.

Kaius grinned—it was the moment he’d been waiting for.

After all his practice imbuing his spells with intent, he’d noticed something interesting. Centred on his glyphs, persistent spells like Slip Step were far easier to manipulate. He could push his intent into the glyph for longer—more easily force a result the longer he worked.

As he strained, bringing his sword down with all of the might in his back and arms, Kaius unleashed his accumulated will.

It was still a gamble—maybe one chance in five at best—but it was all he had.

If he failed, he’d be open and unguarded—at best Rieker would kick him back and break a few of his ribs.

But he wanted to see the man bleed. Just once.

Right as the haft of Rieker’s hammer rose to meet his swing, Kaius flickered. A barest moment of intangibility, usually so unreliable, happening with impeccable timing.