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Lag 6.14

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Hardkour felt his entire body tense, every muscle under his skin seizing and tightening at once. His breath hitched in his lungs as the urge to breathe in took a step back to simply reacting. At the exact time, his eyes widened suddenly before quickly narrowing a half-instant later.

For a moment, he was nearly a statue.

Breath-Holding (25 → 26)

Then he wasn't.

A grin overtook his mouth, the expression growing visibly wider as he took two deliberate steps to the side. One singular thought was on his mind as he turned his entire body with him. Finally.

His eyes passed over Nordwind as he easily avoided her mid-leap, the woman already rocketing past him. The confident sneer on her face fell apart under Hardkour's gaze as he simply side-stepped her attempted pounce, a raised foot from him enough to send her spiraling out of control completely.

The new cape scrambled as she stumbled into a near-facefault, Nordwind falling forward to meet the ground with both hands in front of her as she caught herself from doing exactly that The woman landed entirely on all fours, her body in something of a push-up position, but Greg barely paid her any attention as he focused his gaze at the man in black still standing several meters away.

He tilted his head, mindfully aware of the constricting sensation pressing down on and around him. And there’s Krieg doing his thing. He dropped his eyes back down to the fuming form of Nordwind as she pushed herself up to her feet, hands in front of her as layers of frost materialized on her knuckles.

Hardening her face back into a glare, the young woman tightened those same ice-covered hands into fists and she swung at Greg again.

And again.

And again.

Wow. Hardkour avoided each blow with sharp, but deliberate motions, each dodge accompanied with a single step back and away from the Empire cape. Wow, he repeated to himself again. She is really not good at this. Even with Krieg hampering his movements and breathing, her blows were easy enough to step away from, and that was without using much speed at all. Every punch she threw was obviously powerful but at the same time clearly inexperienced, even to his own eyes.

Resistance: Cold (8 → 9)

Greg shuddered slightly, his attention drawn away from his opponent’s technique as goosebumps prickled across his body, the intensity of the cold rising even further. At the same time, even more lines of frost wove their way up Nordwind’s forearms in tighter and denser patterns with audible crackling noises, the blue of her arms hidden almost entirely by fractal-patterned white.

At the same time, ice radiated across the asphalt and spread with every step the cape took towards him, leaving the ground slick with frost and the air bitterly sharp. Great. Greg suppressed the urge to cough as the words almost completely refused to leave his mouth, despite his efforts. Air felt like soup in his lungs, muscles tight as he did his best to keep his movements under control. To make things even worse, the iced-over ground threatened to trip him up at the same time as snares of frost burst from the ground in multiple attempts to crawl up his legs.

Nordwind charged forward again, fist pulled back for what Hardkour could tell to be another combo. The teenage cape simply shook his head as he dodged her first amateur blow. More basic than basic. He stepped in, one arm up as he quickly parried another punch with his forearm. A moment later, both fists blurred into motion.

Parry (17 → 18)

"Nnngghahhh!"

Nordwind stumbled back once more with another sound of pain on her lips, eight blows to the head in a quarter as many seconds doing just enough damage to rattle her super-tough skull. Hardkour simply watched, blue eyes flashing for a half-second before they returned to normal almost immediately. Hm. So that Enhanced Strength and Durability is still there. Huh.

He clicked his tongue with clear annoyance. Yeah, I don’t have time to wear her down. It’s not my time being wasted here.

As if on cue, Nordwind stepped forward to face him again, the amateur cape simply shaking her head as she got back in her amateur stance, both hands raised in a bad mimicry of a boxer’s. Greg took that as his cue.

Hardkour shot forward, heavy fist swinging on a direct path to the woman’s right side and.... missed?

Huh. His blow went wide as Nordwind dodged with a sharp slant to the opposite side, swinging forward with a blow of her own.

-70

-18

-10

-8

Resistance: Cold (9 → 11)

The blond grunted slightly as her fist impacted his stomach, a sensation like knives in his chest. He jerked back, teeth grit tight and glanced down with a slight wince as a layer of frost spread across his torso. He grunted again as the sudden movement only tore further at his skin, shards of ice from Nordwind's momentary touch stabbing at his still-healing wounds. Okay, dumb move. Don't let her touch you.

Still, he didn’t falter.

Hardkour tilted his head as Nordwind’s fist swung by again, and suppressed yet another grunt as frost stung at the left side of his face from the narrow miss. The teenager shrugged off the pain of the first blow with a quick jab that found it's mark in Nordwind's solar plexus. The moment she staggered backwards, Hardkour shot forward and smashed the hardest part of his elbow into the side of her face, relishing the pained groan she made as she went down once again. “That enough for you yet? I got plenty more. Just let me kn-”

Greg blinked, the words hitching in his throat as he felt his lungs tighten again. The blond raised one eyebrow as he cast a glance down at his groaning opponent. He frowned a moment later, both eyes narrowing as he raised his gaze.

I swear to god… Blue eyes promised the silent figure a good deal of pain in return as he focused his eyes on the slowly-advancing Krieg still a good distance away.

The man did well to mask his movements, avoiding any visible motion when Greg’s attention strayed anywhere near him. All of it was probably an attempt to avoid a direct attack, but Greg could see him. He knew exactly what Krieg was doing. Even more than that, from the pressure on his lungs and the tightness in his limbs, he could feel it. I know your game, man.

A growl came from a few feet away as Nordwind shot back to her feet and lunged once again at her expectant opponent.

“Y-you really should give up," Greg snarked through tight lungs, ducking aside another set of punches with an easy grace.

"Make me!"

"... 'kay.”

Greg moved, suddenly darting forwards before the wannabe supervillainess could properly raise her guard. “How's...”

Nordwind’s eyes couldn’t even track him, barely having time to even shift all the way down as the teenager rushed past her flimsy attempt to block. Fist already rushing upwards, Greg didn't bother to hold back. You can take it.

“This!”

Her jaw snapped up as his fist struck home, the force of the blow actually lifting the hooded cape into the air. His eyes didn’t leave her until her flight came to a sudden end as she crashed face-first into the ground and even then, not until she let out a groan of pain as she lay on the asphalt clutching her now-bleeding nose.

The teenage cape lowered his hand, a single breath escaping his lips in a short, terse exhale. He raised an eyebrow, gaze drifting from Nordwind to the still-silent Krieg. They held eye contact as Greg took several quick steps back, the pressure on his chest easing slightly the farther away he got.

Not daring to take the risk, Hardkour made sure to keep his eyes locked firmly onto Krieg as the blond took in a deep breath. He didn’t bother to inhibit his Aerokinesis this time, the overactive power actually assisting him as it helped funnel an extra helping of sorely-needed fresh air to his aching lungs.

Finally…

“Fuck you!”

Greg’s attention turned back to the irritated woman as she burst to her feet again, having brushed off the blow that had sent her off her feet in seconds. Inwardly shaking his head, he dodged a large spike of ice moments before it burst out from under his feet. The ice growth shot forward and past him, a jagged line of meter-tall frost jutting from the ground at speeds that just barely managed to stay on the safe side of school-zone legal.

Nordwind roared again as ice formed across her upper limbs again, layers and layers of frost quickly solidifying before his eyes into translucent gauntlets of ice on her fists and all the way up to her otherwise slender forearms.

He fought the urge to frown, unsure what to expect. Do those… Do they actually make her stronger or tougher? Or is this like an intimidation thing?.

Without giving him another second to think, Nordwind lunged at Hardkour in a blur of motion.

Really? He scoffed to himself as he casually dodged a punch from an ice-covered fist that was noticeably slower than her last. You’re gonna give up even more speed just to keep not hitting me. Smart move. One eyebrow raised, Greg made to dodge back and out of her range as he had been doing for a while now, only to nearly freeze completely as a pulse ran down his neck.

Instinct sent him forward instead of backward. Barely even thinking about his move, the teenage vigilante launched himself towards the charging Nordwind. A raised knee struck home into the Empire cape’s chest, hard enough to easily shatter bone on a normal person. The sound of cracking accompanied the impact as she fell back and to the ground with a harsh grunt.

Nice trick. Hardkour glanced over his shoulder, nodding slightly as he spotted the sharp-looking stalagmite of ice that had erupted right behind him; the source of the cracking noise and clearly what Nordwind had planned to spear him with if he had jumped back.

“You know w-what?” He began, voice labored and strained. Greg cleared his throat as Nordwind began to pick herself up again, doing his best to speak through lungs that felt waterlogged. “I thought you were kinda retarded but that wasn’t a bad move back there. With the feint and the ice thing. Pretty smart, honestly. Smartest move you've made yet.”

+ 1 VIT (204 → 205)

Taunt (19 → 20)

For some reason, she seemed to get even more annoyed at that.

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