A Kaudian was not a sight Tyler particularly wanted to see, even if she was on his side. Her plan wasn’t terrible - it’d certainly give him more leeway to act as he wished if he didn’t have to look back to see if Lucas was still dawdling behind him every few seconds - but it also meant the enemy could concentrate their forces as well as the Templars could, and they definitely had the numerical advantage.
“I haven’t seen anyone, I stepped out of the bathroom to a guy trying to run me through,” Tyler replied. He didn’t bother asking any of the questions that inhabited his own head; he doubted Sara had any more context than he did for the attack, even if she was present for the initial invasion.
Just as Tyler turned to look for the giant of a man that marked their rally point, everything slowed down. No, that wasn’t an apt description. Everything stopped. Tyler swiveled his head back toward his Scion as the cacophony of violence that had overtaken the ballroom stilled to a peaceful silence, but he was too late; he’d barely made it ninety degrees before his awareness blanked out.
When time resumed its flow, Tyler found himself being tugged in the direction of a very flashy-looking aggressor by Lucas. Kaudian invaders shouldn’t have the capacity to use technology like that, assuming it wasn’t a spell in its own right, so this guy was clearly a cut above the rest, to say nothing of his apostasy. He shifted in front of his Scion defensively, sword held out in a ready stance. Alright, time to see what his gimmick was-
The room was still silent. A stray bullet hung in the air, just within Tyler’s periphery. Time was still frozen. And that fucker was
moving.
“Please tell me you unfroze him to fuck with me,” Tyler muttered, keeping the golden glow of his suit’s eyeholes centered firmly on his new opponent. That simply wasn’t possible. The Scion of Time’s power was unreplicable. The prince had to have come up with some horrible divide and conquer plan and decided to unfreeze the enemies first for some reason.
“I wish,” Lucas sighed.
“I don’t know how and he’s not really keen on letting us know.”The man paused for a moment, observing the pair. He then decided to pocket his gun, choosing to wield the dull-looking sword with both hands.
“I will insist once again for your surrender, Lucas Estora,” He stated.
“However, that will be the last time I ask. Do you wish harm on your Templar?”Lucas’ mouth parted as he let out a small laugh.
“For fuck’s sake, you’re cocky, aren’t you?” He asked, though he paused.
“Not that I was any use to you before, but you’re on your own for this one.” He was almost apologetic as he spoke to Tyler.
Tyler echoed Lucas’ laugh as he stepped forward to meet his opponent. Sword looked like a piece of shit, so he either blew all his funds on his fancy time-deflection scarf or it was enchanted too and he shouldn’t risk getting hit by it.
“And I insist you blow it out your ass,” Tyler huffed as he regarded his opponent one last time. If scarf man could counter Lucas, he could counter Tyler. Back to fundamentals it was then! Still, he had to play it safe, there were too many unknowns and not enough tricks to fall back on if he underestimated any of them. Luckily, he had no obligation to rush in hastily. A staredown wouldn’t get this traitor his prisoner.
“Very well,” The man raised the sword with little effort.
“Tyler Morris, twenty-five, Templar of Time. A test of physical capabilities, then.”The dull sword hummed ominously for a second before a halo of light appeared over his head. He decided on his first move and closed the gap between the two. Once he was close enough, he swung. Once the two blades collided, the mana sword fluctuated for a second but remained steady. The dull blade’s edge seemed to chip a touch.
“Your mana is stronger than I anticipated,” He noted.
Tyler gritted his teeth as the man seemed to charge up. Physical capabilities, his ass; something was up with that sword. The glow didn’t look too promising either. When his opponent came in for his attack, Tyler shifted his weight and brought his sword up to meet it. The flicker of his blade almost prompted him to disengage immediately, though it held firm against the onslaught, apparently to scarfy’s dismay.
It looked like… some kind of dark crystal. Volcanic glass, maybe. Presumably meant specifically to disable Tyler’s favorite toy, somehow. Mother help them if every Scion had an attacker kitted out similarly to counter their Templar. It had to do something else, though, since disarmament was nowhere near enough to kill Tyler Morris, age twenty-five, Templar of Time, and tester of physical capabilities and this jackass had to know it. He wasn’t too keen on testing ugly sword against flesh to find out though.
“I was gonna say the same about your breath.” He lanced his leg out straight, aiming to plant the ball of his foot in his attacker’s abdomen and stagger him back enough to follow up with a quick diagonal cut just as he reached the edge of his manablade’s reach.
The kick was unexpected, the cut striking through the suit and armor. There was a small scoff as his hand traced the hit and he decided to swing more aggressively this time. Tyler danced back, staying light on his feet. He met the swing with a sweeping parry, more intent on guiding his opponent’s weapon away than intercepting the force of the swing. The last thing he needed was for his blade to fail under repeated pressure and leave him to eat a sword to the face. He needed to pull a mundane weapon off one of the bodies. Better would be to lock this guy down long enough to toss a gun in Lucas’ direction, but he’d be lucky if he got a reprieve long enough to do either; that strike felt like that first hit had pissed the guy off.
He stepped into range again with a powerful swing of his own, aiming to crowd his enemy as quickly as he could and put the man on his back foot.
The parry had the man take a misstep, forcing him to take a stand to prevent himself from losing his footing. He stood firm as Tyler swung, blocking it with his sword. The manasword once again flickered, but this time the man pushed forward. Rather than disengage, however, he remained steady and looked to gain some ground.
Tyler’s stance switched as the man shoved his own sword back in his face, once again shifting his body under the block to avoid placing himself directly in the sword’s path should his manasaber fail. Rather than shove back with all his might, he exerted only enough force to not be pushed back, then forfeited the position entirely as he seemingly stepped back to reset. As his back foot came forward to regain his stance, he threw it with all his might to snap a kick against the potentially overextended man’s calf and then swung his sword with all the elegance of a baseball bat at his side.
The kick caused the man to buckle, the moment of hesitation enough to leave him open. Instead of taking the hit, he caught the manasword in his hand, the mana singeing through the metallic glove. His head turned from the weapon to its owner, and he swung his sword, aiming at Tyler’s side.
The Templar would’ve scoffed were he not in mortal danger. That was just cheap. He hoped this guy would lose a finger for that. Unfortunately, he had little time to lament the unfairness of the man’s makeshift block, and instead tucked his elbow into his side to protect his vitals from the sword. His sigil flared instinctively, though it did little good with Lucas’ throttle on time still overpowering his, and the blade tore into his armor like a sponge in a puddle and smashed into his unprotected arm.
Tyler disengaged sloppily as he recoiled, holding his sword up defensively with his remaining arm while the injured one dangled at his side. Not broken. No obvious hex placed upon him by the mysterious blade. Good start. Now without the initiative, Tyler played the part of a cowed wolf limping away from prey that put up more of a fight than it had expected while strafing toward one of scarfy’s buddies on the floor.
The man took a step back, an electric current running through his hand, or what was left of it; the hand was entirely made of metal and was able to move after he curled it into a fist. He raised his sword with his intact hand, pointing it at Tyler.
“It would seem your Scion has given you quite the blessing. Your strength is more than I had calculated.” He stated.
“A shame. The shackles of Incepta weigh down your soul and keep you from your true potential.” Oh, good, the heretical drivel had started. Just the opportunity Tyler had wanted.
“Your pamphlets could use some work,” he spat before he pried one of the fallen swords off the ground with his toe and kicked it up to carelessly catch it by the blade in his armored hand. He tucked his manasaber’s hilt back onto his thigh and traded the new weapon to his uninjured arm.
It wouldn’t neutralize the man’s weapon entirely as a threat, but it would certainly let him block without any hesitation again. Plus, Tyler was the tiniest bit curious to see how his enlightened lack of shackles would look when he shoved this idiot’s mana-drinking sword in his own glowing scarf. Somebody’d clearly cut his hand off once before, Tyler could do it again.
“If the Goddess is so disgusting to you, I doubt you have much use for Her favored children.”“On the contrary, Her children will be the ones to summon her back here to Gaia,” He replied calmly.
“All we have done is speed up the clock–and everyone will see that it is the embrace of Termina that will lead humanity to prosperity.”His left hand relaxed and joined his right on his sword. He tested the grip and deemed it satisfactory, and once he felt it was time, he resumed the fight, mimicking his earlier entrance and swinging.
Tyler barely had time to test the weight of his new weapon before he was raising it up to defend against another onslaught. Well, if this heretic was so keen on calling down divine retribution upon himself, Tyler almost couldn’t find it in himself to deny him. Trading Lucas for judgment day seemed a fair deal. Unfortunate that this one-armed idiot was probably full of shit, whether he knew it or not.
This time, Tyler shoved back against the sword that clashed with his own and followed up with high, repetitive swings to force the man back into a defensive stance with his sword no longer covering his lower body.
The fight resumed in earnest and the man met Tyler’s swings with his own. The swords clashed repeatedly, with the last hit resulting in a small shard breaking off of the sword. It flew back inconsequentally, though when it went through the flowing mana, the entire length wavered much like Tyler’s manasword had. He paid no mind to it, albeit Tyler’s gambit had paid off as the man’s stance changed as expected.
As the man committed to his defense, Tyler took one hand off his weapon and held it back, as if reeling back for another committed strike. He threw it with his only remaining arm, an overhand chop that would necessitate the man to react defensively, lest he need a new metal collarbone, though he cared little about where the strike ended up. He swung his now-free hand downward, as if to build momentum for his attack, only to reach for his manasaber’s hilt in a reversed grip and ignite it downward into his opponent’s forward thigh.
The man raised his blade to meet Tyler’s, but he failed to react in time to Tyler’s manasword. It surged through his thigh, the hit causing him to jerk away in a hasty reaction that caused it to rip through his thigh. He pushed back and leapt away from Tyler, the pantsleg torn and revealing the thigh nearly buckling under his weight. However, where there would be blood, there was only metal, electricity crackling through the part with every movement.
“Once again, I have underestimated you,” He confessed, reaching into his jacket and bringing out a small grenade. He hooked his thumb through the pin, holding it out. There was a slight pause as the halo faded and he remained motionless for a few seconds.
“Very well. I would recommend you not follow–your Scion will be needing your attention momentarily.”Tyler ceased his pursuit once the grenade came out, ready to dive back whenever the fanatic’s suicidal tendencies overpowered his common sense. Fortunately, the man seemed more interested in hearing himself talk.
“Thanks for the insight, Go-Go Gadget Jackass,” Tyler hissed. He wondered if this guy could still piss or if he lost that appendage too.
“Lucas, follow the Kaudian girl. I’m finishing this.”“If you choose to ignore my warning, so be it,” The man said as he pulled the pin, holding the grenade in his metal hand. The mana around him went from red to a light blue, and after a few seconds, time resumed.
The fact that he managed to override Lucas’ magic was incredulous enough, but the Scion realized what that meant. The chaos of the ballroom resumed, and once the mooks realized Tyler was gone, they immediately looked to Lucas–who had been previously behind Tyler and had essentially switched places with him.
“Son of a bitch,” Lucas cursed, holding out his hand to slow the armored men down.
The man, on the other hand, threw down the grenade once time had resumed. The concussive blast was enough to shake the walls and cover the hallway in smoke. Lucas threw his arms above his head, nearly knocked off his feet, but he ran to the doorway.
“Are you alright?!” He called out to Tyler.
Tyler was preoccupied with the ringing in his ears as the smokescreen consumed him. By the time he’d regained his composure, he had no doubt the man had long since fled, though he tossed his stolen weapon impotently into the cloud anyway. At the sound of his charge’s voice, he changed directions and rushed back toward the ballroom until Lucas was properly in sight.
“We’re buying you a fucking weapon,” he muttered in lieu of an answer as he reached for his chest. The armor parted on his hand’s approach, and Tyler pulled out his handgun to offer it toward Lucas.
“Here. Shoot the next fucker that approaches us, I don’t care if Grandpappy Nate himself is behind the guy.”Lucas’ shoulders slumped as he rolled his eyes.
“Why do I bother…” He muttered to himself, though he eyed the handgun warily. He wouldn’t leave Tyler waiting for long but didn’t bother hiding his reluctance as he took the handgun. Pausing again, he turned away from Tyler and aimed at the men still stuck in slow motion. He shot at each one twice, and once he lowered his gun, time resumed for them and each one went down.
“What did he mean when he said I’d need your attention?” Lucas suddenly asked.
Tyler raised a hand in protest as Lucas took the opportunity to follow up on his orders right that second, though the gun went off all the same. He almost chided him, but his inquiry was a lot more pressing, so Tyler opted to save it for the inevitable post-shitshow security briefing he’d have to give him anyway.
“Don’t know. Maybe he meant them, maybe I don’t feel like finding out.” He pointed toward the Scion of Fire in the distance.
“Let’s regroup.”
@Hero@Stern Algorithm
