B2 Chapter 267: Grand Larceny, pt. 2

Suspicion had saved the last remaining vault guard from his initial assault, but it wouldn’t save them from his last.

Kicking off the ground with explosive force, Kaius brought up his leading leg to absorb his impact as he collided with the wall opposite the man. A shuddering creak shot through his leg as he hit the stone like a dwarven miner, stomach sliding into his hips as he kicked off again—racing straight for the remaining guard.

They were fast, moving with the grace of a seasoned bladesman as they slid into an aggressive thrust at a speed that dwarfed even the nimblest of mortal men. It should have skewered him through the chest.

He was faster.

Trusting in his wooden flesh and unnatural regeneration, Kaius swept out and grabbed the naked blade with his offhand. His leading foot touched the ground, half a stride past the tip of the guard’s blade. Carried forward by his momentum, the cold edge of the sword slid down his palm—splitting the skin to grind hopelessly against adamantine bones and stain the steel red.

The guard reeled, eyes widened in shock as his blade was shoved off-centre, Kaius pulling his blade back for a retaliatory stab of his own.

His mind raced, tracking each lightning fast twitch the moment it happened. With his Intelligence, nothing escaped him—not with his Glass Mind stepping in to process sensory and skill input.

A nudging suggestion, he thrust low.

He saw the very moment the guard’s instincts fired—a subtle raise of the brow, a twitch in his jaw, a subtle gasp. It was like watching someone wade through treacle. Just as Kaius knew he would, the guard went low.

Kaius punched the tip of his sword through the guard’s voicebox, cutting off a strangled cry of alarm. It wasn’t a perfect shot, steel skidding off the edge of the man’s spine, but it was one that had silenced his target.

He ripped his blade free, the wound only trickling a few spoons of arterial blood. It should have been a spray—the guard had a Skill.

The force of his advance carried Kaius forward. He could have planted his feet and bled off what speed he could. It would have been safer—a more sure way to end the fight without injury.

He didn’t. The hot song of blood and battle roared in his veins, resurfacing every coal of frustration, and glimmer of hatred that had been smouldering away for weeks. He was strong, and he would live.

Lunging forwards, Kaius punched the guard with the hilt of his shortsword and felt the dampened crack of a bone giving way. Dropping his shoulder, he smashed into their chest—their bastard sword clattering to the ground as the guard lost his grip in the sudden assault.

Slow weeping blood from the man’s throat coated his face, highlighting the furious scowl that stretched across Kaius’s features.

They went down, his own blade levered out of his hand as it smashed point first into a gap between flagstones.

Gritting his teeth, he blasted his head forwards, a wet crunch filling the hall as his forehead crushed the cartilage in the guard’s nose.

His breaths came heavy, as hot as the viscera that soaked through his pants—courtesy of the shattered skulls of the guards he had already slaughtered.

Kaius reached up, sinking the fingers of his offhand into the guard’s throat. The hole in the man’s neck had already sealed—he had his own healing skill. Perhaps, even, his own Lesser Regeneration?

With the bloodsong drowning out all sound to a low drone, that seemed like a good thing.

The guard’s eyes bulged in their sockets. Fury clouded the man’s eyes—simple fatalistic determination setting the man’s jaw tight.

He bucked his hips, trying to force Kaius off.

Kaius rode with the motion, popping up to mantle the man’s hips, bearing down on his throat with his full weight. He drew back his main hand, loading a punch.

Freed from the pressing weight of his body, the guard’s hand snapped down. Kaius just barely saw the red gleam of steel and the flash of mana before the guard slammed a dagger into his ribs.

Honed and enhanced, the blade crunched through his chain—mundane steel ineffective against the guard’s assault, even with the assistance of Tempered by Dissonance. He felt the cold kiss of his flesh parting, and the structured mana forced into the blade unfurling with the frigid touch of true winter.

Rapid Adaptation bloomed as a wave of ice mana rolled through his chest, only slightly blunting the attack. He might have had a resistance to the aspect, but his skill provided only a fraction of direct protection against attacks that weren’t afflictions.

Kaius grunted as hoarfrost erupted in his chest cavity—a sudden stab of baleful winter that did nothing to blunt the fire in his blood.

Spluttering as his lungs stiffened—health burning to keep him whole—Kaius tasted blood on the back of his tongue and threw his whole weight into his punch.

There was no grinding of bone on bone, only the crack of his knuckles breaking the guard’s already healed jaw once more. Flesh caved in, blood soaking his hands further.

The heavy hit stunned the guard, giving him the time he needed to reach for the scavenged knife that was belted at his waist.

His fingers grabbed air.

The bastard has stabbed him with his own blade.

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Cold pain shone clear as the guard rallied, ramming his stolen weapon into Kaius’s stomach. Ice mana rolled through his guts—crystallising what it could as the guard attacked him from within.

Even with a Skill that strengthened his armour enough to blunt the initial stab, the guard needed only a nick for his skill to ravage him from the inside out.

And yet, it did little to slow Kaius down. His body had been strengthened and reforged—imbued with a power many times greater than the twelve fold increase his Constitution provided.

Even with his organs blackened and ravaged, it would take a lot more than the spite of winter for him to meet his end.

As ice crystals tore at his flesh, filling his stomach and throat with the tang of iron, Kaius squeezed tighter to the guard’s throat and spat his blood in the man’s eyes.

The guard lurched, moving to stab him a third time.

Twice bitten, thrice shy, Kaius released his grip and slammed his fist into the guard’s bicep. Bones cracked and flesh bruised—the guard’s arm drooping.

He felt a familiar presence watching through his eyes—shared visceral delight encouraging him to burn brighter.

Despite everything, Kaius wasn’t stupid. Not all of his being was lost to the storm. His Glass Mind was dispassionate—disconnected from the retributive spite that surged through him like a tempest.

He knew he was taking needless risks. That every drop of Health spent was one that should be carefully metered out—budgeted for when it was most needed.

It was hard to care when his Glass Mind broke down the rate of his expense, the cost and speed of healing the frostbite that wormed its way through his chest.

The guard was tough. He needed satisfaction. It was as simple as that.

Hearing the guard grunt in pain, Kaius abandoned trying to control the knife—getting stabbed was inevitable, and ending the threat would save him wounds in the long run. He leaned in, a silent roar of primal aggression on his lips and echoed in his bond as he gripped the guard’s head.

Clenching tight, Kaius reared up, yanking the guard up by his skull.