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    Tristan advanced and brought down his blade with two hands in a large, overhead chop. The Starsworn moved fast despite the flaming, burning chains still dangling from its form. The metal ripped from the pillars, and it advanced to meet him with the haft of the spear, holding it up in two hands as the shaft caught the sword. Tristan could feel the intense heat, and if not for the fire dragon blood he had consumed, he would have been incinerated. Even then, he had to vent even more essence to ensure he kept cool enough to stay conscious.

    The Starsworn let out a battle shout, shoving forward and trying to push Tristan off balance. Tristan shuffled his left foot back and pulled his sword back around in a tight arc, then lunging forward with a stab that the Starsworn barely deflected with the butt of the spear. The flaming foe spun the spear blade down on Tristan.

    He barely reacted in time, raising his left hand across his chest, balling his hand into a fist, pushing essence into the forearm. “Frost védj meg most.” (Frost protect me now). The silvery-blue sheet of fractal ice popped into existence before the blade of the spear and caught the blow. The blade bounced back, and as the Starsworn took a step back to thrust, Tristan rotated the arm out to his side, rotating at the elbow, still pouring essence into his forearm, and straightened the arm. He spoke in Dragon’s Tongue. “The heart of the frost protects me; a bulwark to wield in defense.” The icy shield manifested in a more permanent form, and the essence expenditure was noticeable as he felt the weight settle on his forearm. But the massive shield could cover his whole body, and he brought it to bear, catching the point of the spear.

    The flaming tip pushed into the ice, and gouts of steam flared skyward. Tristan used the opening to chop sideways with his right arm, turning his body along with the swing, unleashing a devastating strike across the chest. The blade cut into the chained Starsworn’s side, just under where the pectoral muscles would be on a human. The cutting edge left a huge gash that bled a deep, orange, liquid flame and shimmering radiance. Ice tried to take hold, but was instantly seared away. The lightning, however, was a different matter altogether – It wormed its way inside the wound and the yellow electricity flared through the slightly-transparent form.

    The Starsworn let out a scream of rage. As Tristan pulled the sword back, it stepped toward him and shoved its palm past the shield and against Tristan’s chest. He felt every hair on his neck standing up as Lucky Instinct urged him to move. Dropping prone and turning onto his back to cover his body with the shield, he managed to dodge the palm thrust.

    A riotous explosion echoed out above him, almost deafening him and leaving a ringing in his ears. He could see the brilliant geyser of white-hot flame through the normally opaque ice shield, and it quickly melted away leaving him without a defensive barrier. The Starsworn took advantage of that and jabbed down with the spear.

    Tristan rolled aside, dodging the stab, and got to his feet in time to deflect a jab. The flaming foe continued to unleash a rapid series of jabs that Tristan backed away from, deflected, and blocked with rapid Frost Screen spells – all the time spinning his crucible and venting the essence to prevent himself from burning to death.

    I’m at half essence remaining, Tristan thought as he knew he needed to make a decisive move. I can’t keep this exchange going.

    As the Starsworn pulled back for another jab, but a chain shot toward him from the Demon essence-weaver, who shouted out, “Now!” The chain kept the spear from going forward and bought Tristan a moment.

    He took full advantage, and stabbed forth with his sword, piercing deep into the chest where the heart would be. Pulling the blade back to prevent the metal from being damaged which would leave him weaponless, he watched as more of the orange, liquid fire spilled out. “More chains!” he shouted as he saw the one holding the stab back break, and the Starsworn let loose with the jab. Tristan deflected with his sword, and turned the blade to trap the shaft in the cross guard. Bringing his forearm down onto the weapon, he broke the flaming mass and it dissipated.

    His victory was short lived, as the Starsworn had already moved its other hand forward, and the hand warped until it was holding a similar, flaming dagger that stabbed into Tristan’s side. The armor deflected the blow slightly from any vital organs, but Tristan still felt the searing heat and let out a cry of pain as he was on the verge of blacking out from the sudden increase in internal temperature literally cooking him from inside. Venting even more essence and focusing it on where the knife had jabbed in, the cooling sensation helped alleviate the pain.

    Raising a foot, he kicked the Starsworn back, and reached into the still-open Pocket Dimension II, which had remained fixed in space above his left shoulder. Grabbing one of the supreme healing elixirs, he chugged it down, and felt the flesh re-knit together, leaving behind a weird itch inside his body.

    The Starsworn pulled back only for a brief moment from the kick, then another dagger manifested in its other hand. It dashed to Tristan, unleashing a flurry of strikes, which forced Tristan fully onto the defensive.

    I need space! Tristan thought as he kept spinning his crucible, and directed the essence into the hilt of the sword, activating Rime Blast. A blistering wave of cold exploded out from Tristan, in a sixty-foot cone before him – shards of ice and eddies of frosty air slamming into the Starsworn and pushing it back further. It gave Tristan a moment to grab another healing elixir and essence elixir, and he quaffed those as well. Only three more healing and four more essence. Thank the gods that the pocket dimension is not affected by the ambient heat.


    The author’s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    The Starsworn recovered from the icy hail as the shards melted away, only leaving behind small wounds. Another pair of chains shot out from the pillars nearby and wrapped themselves around it, holding it still as it struggled against the bindings. “I’ll kill you all!” it screamed out. The heat redoubled, and Tristan had to take momentary refuge behind one of the pillars.

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