The Foolhardies 94 The Medusa Touch Part 2

Azuma standing above me while I knelt on the ground struggling against the weight of his black steel spear while his killing intent rolled off him in menacing waves brought a feeling of déjà vu to my mind. However, this time I didn't have Fool's Insight to help me out of this predicament.

My vision had already gone from strained to blurred. It was like putting on prescription gla.s.ses that belonged to someone with extremely terrible eyesight. Not only was I forced to blink over and over, but just keeping my eyes open made my head hurt. Such was the price for overusing Fool's Insight.

"Well," Azuma's voice, raspy from fatigue yet strangely jovial, reached my ears. "What other tricks do you have up your sleeve, Dean?"

The truth, I had nothing left. The tank was empty. I was tired and in pain. I'd been outmaneuvered on every turn, and it was grating on the nerves to think that not even my fairy gift was enough for me to win. Yeah, I was done—and yet, I didn't feel like it was the end. Perhaps, after going through too many life-and-death struggles in this war I just couldn't bring myself to give up. In fact, my brain, although extremely fatigue, was already in overdrive thinking of anything I could do to escape Azuma's clutches.

Above me, the pressure from Azuma's spear increased, forcing my weary arms to buckle, and I barely managed to keep them half-raised. This attack only galvanized me into action.

"It's not over yet!" I yelled, and with herculean effort, I picked myself up from the floor and pushed on my falchion with every bit of my remaining strength.

This worked somewhat, as Azuma too was forced to pull back from my effort. Still, his spear remained over my head even as I stood on two feet. The man was taller than me, after all.

Our weapons remained locked together in fierce compet.i.tion, and while the grinding of shadowblades screeched around us, neither side was willing to give in the tug-of-war we were playing.

"You're getting weaker, old man… Might want to give yourself a time out… Wouldn't want you to die now that I've got you on the ropes," I taunted.

You had to give me credit. Even in the worst moments, I could still manage to banter like I was ahead in the count. Although there was a particle of truth to my statement. He was getting weaker. The weight of his attack, which at first was like gravity pressing down on me, had lessened with each pushback.

Azuma coughed hard. Dark blood leaked out the side of his mouth, and even through my blurry vision, I could see his face turn pale. However, this handicap wasn't enough for him to drop his spear. In fact, it only renewed his desire to wipe me out as quickly as possible.

The intense pressure returned as Azuma doubled his efforts. He sent his spear cras.h.i.+ng toward me—and pus.h.i.+ng myself against him felt like wading against the tide of a roaring river.

"Oh, come on!" I hissed through gritted teeth. "Don't you have an off switch?"

"It'll take more than a second wind for you to best me, Dean," Azuma spat at me. "You are but a small pebble facing off against the mountain."

I raised an eyebrow. "Small?"

"You may have gained much fighting experience in this war, but it is still tiny compared to the number of battles I've survived," he boasted.

I raised my other eyebrow. "Tiny?!"

"A little effort—"

"—little?!" I screamed. "Alright, that's it! No one calls me a miniature hobbit!"

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew he wasn't talking about my height, and I could see from the fleeting surprise in his face that my outburst confused him. It's just that my brain went to crazy places whenever someone directed the words small, and tiny, and little at me. This may speak more about my own insecurities over how much taller Luca and Ty were than Azuma's choice of words, but I didn't care. No one called me small. 

If Azuma doubled his efforts earlier, then I tripled mine now. I lashed out at him with the fury of a slighted teenager—and it was refres.h.i.+ng! For those few minutes, I didn't care about consequences or priorities. It was just raw emotion pus.h.i.+ng me on, and I relished it. At least for as long as it lasted before my head cleared.

I pushed outward with my falchion and created enough s.p.a.ce between us for me to pull off a stunt I'd seen Azuma do only minutes before. With momentum sending me forward, I raised my left foot and sent it pus.h.i.+ng toward his armored front. My push kicked didn't reach him, however. Instead, he'd broken the blade lock and sent his spear's shaft in the way of my foot, which meant I'd still gotten what I wanted.

Now that we were separated, I pulled away to create even more distance which was really the only thing I could do considering my own handicap. Then I pulled out a red vial from one of the pouches hanging on my belt and raised it to my face.

Swoos.h.!.+

Air current violently slammed onto the skin of my face like a phantom of something sharp pa.s.sing dangerously close to me.

I felt the red liquid spill out of the vial whose top half someone had cut in twain. And the potion that would have returned my sight washed over my hand and dripped ominously down to the gra.s.s beneath.

From beyond my hand, I spied through my deteriorating eyesight a black-clad figure with his spear stretched out to the side in one hand.

"Um… you missed," I said, almost hoping this was true. The alternative was frightening to consider.

Azuma shook his head. "I didn't miss."

I sighed heavily. "I figured."

Our dance of death came again, but this time it was infinitely harder to dodge, block, and parry with my eyesight as bad as it was. Still, I managed it almost like it was a miracle. No. I should have more confidence in my fighting experience. 

Somehow, I just knew how to react to each thrust and each swipe of his spear whenever it came. I could even dodge the kicks and punches he was so adept at dis.h.i.+ng out. Although it wasn't perfect. Six times out of ten, a glancing blow would connect with me, sending pain shooting into my body.

Yet, despite the new bruises and cuts that appeared all over me, none of the fatal attacks. .h.i.t. It was like some primal instinct was forcing me to work extra hard whenever death came knocking—and in this brief clash that lasted seconds, death came knocking loads of times.

Eventually though, after my fourth or fifth successful dodge of a spear shot aimed at my head, I felt a strange stirring inside me. It was as if there was another me in my mind asking me just how long I was going to run around like an idiot. I could hear myself ask, Why aren't you attacking? to which my conscious mind answered, Because I'm at my limit!

Azuma's spear finally struck home. It pierced deep into my left shoulder, cutting through the leather fabric and breaking the skin underneath it.

I pulled away from him half-screaming in pain.

The surrounding onlookers roared. Some cheered for their master. Others groaned for their wounded commander.

I felt the blood trickle down my arm from the hole on my shoulder. Sweat coated my back. My chest heaved. Still, my mind wouldn't shut up. It continued to speak words of encouragement. No, it was more like a taunt as the imaginary voice had changed to someone I really didn't want to hear inside my head—Luca.

Why not go past your limits? Imaginary Luca whispered.

Varda's chirpy tones followed up with, You can do it, Commander!

Then it was Qwipp's saying, Breakthrough, muddamit! Words mirrored by Edo's deep baritone voice, Breakthrough, idiot!

Finally, words spilled from the imaginary voices in my head that started out in Ashley's familiar low whisper, Push past your limit and gain new strength , ending with Aura's almost lyrical voice, You can do it, Dean. I believe in you!

Hearing all their voices in my head, I was prompted to say out loud, "I must be going crazy..."

Suddenly, I felt heat explode out of my right wrist, and as I glanced down, I saw a soft glow rise out from Aura's golden bracelet. Afterward, a refres.h.i.+ng warmth climbed up my arm and into my chest, burning through my fatigue and slowly clearing the blurry haze from my sight.

"Dean!" Aura yelled. The real one. Not the girl in my head. "Watch out!"

Her dire warning was easy to understand as Azuma had just launched himself toward me, his pale face filled with the determination to end our officer's duel. Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click for visiting.

Breakthrough! The voices in my head screamed at me.

I stepped forward, my falchion raised high.

Azuma's spear streaked toward my electrum chest plate. No doubt, it could pierce my armor and skewer my heart, but I wasn't worried. I was filled with confidence that I was either about to do something awesome or learn too late that I'd gone insane right before the moment I died.

Breakthrough! The whispering voices called. Ashley, Edo, Varda, Qwipps, Luca, and Aura. Go beyond your limit!

Azuma's spear was mere inches from me now.

"Breakthrough" I yelled myself the fire in my eyes came back. It glowed with a fierce but obviously temporary light as I could already sense the haze creep at my edges, seeking to return me to darkness. There was only one thing left to do. "Basilisk's Eye!"

As Azuma's spearhead had just scratched the surface of my chest plate, there was no time for a chant. Instead, I summoned my fairy gift by screaming its secret into the sky—and I was rewarded with that familiar searing heat burst out of my sight, showering Azuma with a pressure that I felt was much stronger than the earlier Basilisk Eye .

Azuma's body stiffened for only a moment before he himself broke through my power, but that moment was all I needed.

While my vision darkened even worse than the blurriness of a minute ago, I dragged my falchion down with both hands and sent it cras.h.i.+ng onto Azuma's right shoulder. My sight vanished into blackness, but I smiled despite it because I could feel my shadowblade cut through metal and into the flesh underneath. In that final, desperate moment, I had finally cut down my rival.