(TLO) Chapter 163: Good Instincts (Patreon)

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Triton spat.

Something in the way he said the words tickled Seth the wrong way and he asked with solemnity, hoping for the best but expecting the worst: “How many golds?”

“Three,” Triton mumbled.

Seth sucked in a sharp breath. There was only one way to survive. He shook his head with a frown, fighting against his decision. They were outnumbered and outmaged. He knew it was likely the only way.

“Alright then,” Fin said loud enough to be heard as their enemies approached them. “Weapons free.”

Barnabas held his sword in two hands and took a combat stance. Jason drew one of his swords free. Forlorn twirled his halberd in a menacing manner. Timi and Triton, however, did nothing.

“We can’t fight here,” Triton told Seth. “We’ll die.”

Seth didn’t disagree. But it didn’t mean he necessarily agreed.

“But we can’t die to them,” he told him. “You agree with this, don’t you?”

“So we fight?”

“So we fight.”

Triton frowned but complied. He took two steps forward and took a fighter’s stance. He stood, unarmed. Seth walked up beside him and unsheathed two of his katana.

The man who seemed the leader of the government’s group raised a casual hand high in the air then dropped it. “Attack.”

With the simple word, the others charged them.

Seth braced himself for what was to come. To his minds, he said, “Keep an eye on them.”

………………………………………………

Seth sprinted in behind Timi, leveraging his brother’s size to conceal him from the enemies in front of them. As an iron in a silver fight, he needed to be smart not strong. Unfortunately, with all his minds, smart was not his forte. He was hardworking, he was dedicated, but he wasn’t necessarily smart. Not in the way he needed to be.

When he saw the direction Timi was headed, he fell out from behind him faster than his heart could pump as his brothers clashed with their enemies and Timi charged three men at once.

All the government mages came armed, most of them carrying swords. Only two carried something different.

One wielded a glaive, swinging it with adept precision. He was a man with long hair tied at the back in a wolf tail. When he clashed with Triton, he was flung into a side of the mountain. He hit it with a resounding thud but didn’t stop. Instead, he rose again and charged forward.

Barnabas met one of those wielding a sword and clashed with an eerie violence. He was less grace and more brute force. Striking and shoving, he pushed on with a rage unbefitting of him. It sufficed to push back his opponent so Seth couldn’t bring himself to worry for it. Not now.

When Forlorn met his opponent, he didn’t exchange blows as Barnabas did. He activated a skill and green mist spilled from his mouth. His opponent proved wise enough to step away from the mist but it wasn’t enough. Skill activated, Forlorn continued to charge forward before a gust of wind blew it away. Forlorn barely had the time to turn his head when his opponent darted forward, sword held out in a sharp thrust. Forlorn showed his skill with the halberd, swinging it from what should’ve been an awkward position to intercept the attack.

Seth’s mind was quick to pick out the person that cancelled out his brother’s skill. The mage was a woman with sharp features and a long face. Oddly, with her brown hair held back with a jade pin, she wasn’t a poor sight to behold.

We’re focusing on the wrong thing, his mind scolded as the woman charged him.

She thrust at him with her spear and he stepped back, leaned far enough away to avoid its reach. Years sparring with and against different weapons had prepared him for different situations. He was an iron mage who could fight both beasts and humans. Unfortunately, there was only so much an Iron could do in the face of a silver.

The woman stepped forward with a silver speed. It extended the range of her spear and Seth bent away just in time to avoid being skewered through the mouth. However, he was only fast enough to save his life, and the tip of the spear seared a path of pain along his cheek.

He stepped away from her, steadying his feet beneath him so that he didn’t fall. She was fast, so fast he hoped it was an authority thing not a skill thing.

She looked at him with a touch of surprise in her eyes and he fought back a grin. She hadnt expected him to survive that, which meant it had been an authority speed.

But I don’t think she knows we’re Iron, his mind told him.

“They have a gold with them,” he countered. “I’m sure she knows.”

She struck again before his words were complete and he stepped into the blow. He deflected the attack, meeting the tip of the spear with the flat of his blade and turning so that he slid down the length of the spear.

“[Wind’s Embrace]” the woman said, invoking a skill.

The air strengthened around Seth so that it was a physical force as he passed her by. It pressed from two sides with enough force to hold him in place. His only luck was he’d barely slipped through its hold before it closed from both sides.

A binding skill or a crushing skill? a mind asked.

Seth frowned, having no answer to give. Instead, he asked, “Are you still keeping an eye on it?”

The lady frowned and his minds answered in the positive.

They’re just listening. And the rider doesn’t seem to care for us.

It was a good thing and a bad thing. For now, Seth chose to dwell on the good as he clashed with the lady once more.

They exchanged a few blows that told Seth he was the more skilled fighter of the two. Her advantage only lay in her authority. They clashed again and were forced to part as a mage went flying past their middle. He tumbled across the ground raising enough dust to conceal his fallen body. Seth attended the man out of the corner of his eyes and—

Left! His minds bellowed and his head moved.

The air exploded beside his ear with enough force to send it ringing and force him stumbling to the side.

“Good instincts,” the woman commended. “Wanna see if you can do it again?”

Seth didn’t, but he didn’t answer her. He was more occupied by how he’d evaded it. That his minds had warned was no surprise. They did it often enough. They knew things he didn’t know; things they claimed they were only aware of because he was aware of them. Sometimes, he would fight and they would guide him in defense of his enemy’s attack. This was not new. However, his evasion terrified him.

He didn’t remember moving his head.

Without wasting time pondering, he charged her. This time she stood her ground and waited for him so that when they met, he had momentum behind him.

He brought down both swords on her and she defended with the shaft of her spear. She spun his blow aside and turned her defense into a forward thrust. A simple tilt of his head saved him from another spitting and he returned her attack with another slash of both swords.

Left arm! His mind commanded and only one of his swords went for her neck while his left hand shot out at the same moment and slashed at the air.

A clang of metals meeting rang out and the sword trembled in his hand. He forced himself away from the lady immediately but she followed after him, one spear thrust after the other. He weaved and ducked and blocked. Each strike was as jarring as the one before it. He could feel his arms getting sore, his reia trickling from his core each time to heal one cut or the other as her blows slipped his defense every now and again to score her a point, ripping his cassock to slice flesh.

As long as he still had reia, he would survive his injuries. So, despite his pain, he bided his time. He waited for a moment he knew all fighters had, a break in their rhythm. At Silver she was too young in soul magesc not to have one. When it came there were too many holes in his cassock and countless bloodstains on his skin.

It came after an upward slash of her spear that had missed his face by a fraction of an inch. Instead of turning the spear into the momentum, she brought it down. In that moment of brief pause as she moved against the rhythm of her swing, he stepped into her space and brought his blade down on her.

He realized his mistake when she stepped in as well, taking the attack against her shoulder. Her move brought her too close that rather than his sword, it was his arm that struck her. Hurriedly, he brought his other sword to bear, swinging an upward slash with his left hand. His swing was only half way through its arc when she kicked him in the side.

The impact was enough to lift his feet off the ground. Pain exploded in his side and forced the air out of his lungs, but he came down on his feet and surprise colored the woman’s face.

Strength was lacking in Seth’s body now but he forced himself to move, forced himself to push his left hand forward. She saw this and hated his resolve. So she kicked him again.

This time, when he left the floor, he didn’t land on his feet.

Standing over him, the woman’s frown was perturbed. “You weigh too little for a silver,” she said. “Are you priests malnourished? Is that why the priests only send out their golds?”

As nice as she is to look at, a mind told him. I suggest we move. Forlorn’s getting ready to skewer us again.

Seth felt the distortion in the air above them and knew what his minds were talking about. Instead of pushing himself up, he rolled away from her as fast as he could, teeth clenched in pain.

Somehow she sensed the danger, too, and activated a skill as the air turned a murky green and swamp green spikes descended on her.

Whatever skill she used was strong and a few of them shattered against the air around her. But one got through. It pierced her through the shoulder before shattering like the rest and she cried out in pain before stumbling. Where he’d hoped she would fall, she steadied herself with the butt of her spear.

Seth rose to his feet and caught a glance from Forlorn before the boy went back to battling his opponents. He didn’t know how the sight of his brother holding off two silvers was supposed to make him feel. All he knew was what he felt from it wasn’t something positive.

Still, he took the brief reprieve to assess the fight and his confidence dived further down. His brothers weren’t just standing their ground, they were oppressing their opponents.

Triton held off two men with surprising ease. It would’ve been safe to assume they were silvers but judging from how well his brothers were beating down their opponents, he judged them to be gold.

Forlorn held of his two silvers with deathly sprays and poisoned mists, evading their attacks like a master playing with children. But while his brothers activated their skills against opponents who did the same, Triton seemed content fighting golds without his skills. Each gold authority display of skill was met with a bob and a weave from the priest. Sometimes he stepped out of reach entirely, only to recover the distance created with a speed [Quick Step] couldn’t compare with.