In response to the taunt, the negative lifted up a spearlike leg and drove it toward Ironclad's heart. The huge limb was pointed enough and fast enough to impale even the armored alter ego's cuirass, but luckily the negative's fighting style hadn't changed between each of its 'lives'. In a silver flash, Ironclad brought up his zweihander to block the blow while shifting to his steady forebalance stance to avoid being pushed off his feet by its kinetic force. With a heavy [i]clang[/i] the leg connected, and while Ironclad's almost buckled and dropped his back leg to its knee, he held firm. Miffed that its potential one-hit-knockout was intercepted, the negative cackled and raised the leg again. This time, rather than blocking, Ironclad stepped to the side and allowed the full strength of his monstrous enemy to sink the leg into the soft soil. “Not any smarter, either.”

The savage claws of Ironclad flipped forward into active position and he leaped onto the negative as it struggled to free its leg from the clingy, root-laden dirt. He held the zweihander in reverse grip to keep it handy. Though large and fearsome, the negative's shadowy composition meant that its weight was less than what it appeared to be, and Ironclad's quarter-ton form almost tipped it over when he latched onto it with his claws. As such, while it took only a moment to release its leg from the ground, it was kept occupied by its endeavor to stay on its many, thin feet and not fall onto its side. Seemingly realizing that sooner or later Ironclad would be able to kill it if he remained on its back, the negative took off skittering toward the forest, attempting to brush its metal rider off with the dense autumn foliage. Ironclad saw this and stepped up his progress; he was now on the creatures back, every slash of his claws eliciting a new pained shriek and releasing a murky seep from the tenebrous skin. Using his tail as an anchor, he stood up shakily and prepared his zweihander for a critical blow to the base of the negative's biggest skull. The light glinted off the blade as he readied it, eyes gleaming gleefully, to take the foul beast's life a third time.

Unfortunately, the negative had evolved after all. Behind Ironclad's back, it raised a fell stinger akin to a scorpion's, and just as the alter ego held high his blade it struck. Totally unprepared for such a strike, Ironclad tumbled from the negative's back and fell onto the ground hard. The sword lodged in the ground roughly eight feet away. Cackling, the monster turned back around to face its prey. Only a few dozen feet away now, the forest was swarming with smaller, jeering negatives, ready to pile on like hyenas once the lion had secured the kill. Ironclad pushed himself to his feet as its maws extended forward, ready to rip his metal apart.

Over the bestial laughter of the negative and the howling of its smaller brethren came a whistling sound. Once he had heard it, Ironclad's tension faded. “Do me a favor and keep standing still.” Before the jaws could close around him, a projectile lodged in the negative's main head with a meaty [i]shnuck[/i], causing it to pause. It was some sort of arrow, shaped like a corkscrew and glowing with intense blue light. The sight of it filled Ironclad with satisfaction. “Much obliged.”

The energy stored in the arrow discharged into the body, and it exploded into a black mist. Suddenly very quiet, the other negatives shrank back into the safety of the forest. Laughing cruelly, Ironclad turned away from his trees to face the fortress in the distance. Its windows pulsed with blue light, far softer than that which had made the arrow so lethal, and despite the miles between them Ironclad could hear, “Come. I am waiting.”