Barza Keith, the Lone Shadowdark admired the naked musculature of the marble statue, the ma.s.s, the muscle insertions, all carved to perfection. The statue displayed peak physical perfection... minus missing genitals. How the thing was broken off made it look like its size was intimidating. He was fighting down the urge to vomit. Denman"s doppelganger had delivered a good, solid blow to his stomach, right beneath the sternum.
Lone scowled in anger. He was only hit because he was careless.
Breathing deeply and flouris.h.i.+ng his wolf-hammers, he began to grin with confidence, "Let me introduce you..."
Flexing his left arm, he raised his weapon proudly, "This is Moon."
Flexing his right, he flourished the hammer with a spin before thrusting it forward, "This is Moon-Moon."
The statue appeared unimpressed.
...Of course, it wouldn"t be impressed. It was a statue.
Lone felt a blush creep onto his face. He remained standing in his heroic position, hoping no one would notice.
In the silence, Wolfbanger"s muttering was easy to hear, "Your naming senses are f*cking stupid."
Lone felt a vein on his forehead twitch. He had spent several suns thinking long and hard about those names. He was really proud of them!
Wolves howl at the moon! That"s their thing. And his name was Shadowdark-- as in the Lone Shadowdark Wolf. It was a really cool t.i.tle. Wolfbanger was just too stupid to realize his genius.
The statue kept its blank eyes directed at Lone while it walked over and retrieved a stone sword from among the debris.
Lone swung his arms to stretch his back and scoffed, "I guess I have to fight it."
"Of course you have to fight it! This was your idea!" Wolfbanger cried.
"I mean-- it"s the same as I can"t avoid it," Lone retorted, slightly aggrieved.
Wolfbanger narrowed his eyes, "Yeah, DUH!!"
"Mister Lone, I advise you to remain on your guard." Tycon warned, "A stone blade without an edge is still a weapon."
"Don"t worry, Boss. I still have a trump card I can use." Lone twisted his lips. Whether the enemy was armed or not, he was still more than confident.
Lone dashed forward, hoping for the best. Dropping low, he smashed upward, hoping the statue would guard. He"d be able to take advantage of the unbalancing.
The statue rotated its body, and the first hammer-strike glanced off of its stone exterior ineffectively. As the second hammer-strike came, the statue accurately struck Lone"s wrist, forcing him to release his grip on his weapon.
Aww, b.u.t.t. Was his wrist fractured?
The Denman statue suddenly glowed with a blurry, colorless mana. Air swirled around its sword like a miniature tornado.
Lone narrowed his eyes, "What the--"
That didn"t look good. That didn"t look good at all.
"Mister LONE!" Tycon snarled, "Don"t just stand there!"
Lone swung his remaining wolf-hammer, cracking the Denman"s statue in the side of the head. He kicked the statue backward and leapt forward, bringing down his hammer again onto Denman"s likeness.
The statue swayed its head to the side at the force upon its cheek... then slowly turned back, revealing half of its face, cracked and crumbling. The statue responded by swinging its blade wide...
Lone was ready for it, "Shadowdark Sect: Movement Technique!!"
Leaning backward to dodge the sword, Lone let his body fall to the ground. He swiped his mace at the statue"s legs, knocking it off his feet and onto its side. He ignored the straining muscles on his side as he hammered down against the statue"s chest.
...
Tycondrius grimaced at the situation.
He did not at all understand why Lone threw himself onto the floor. Then he shouted that it was a sect technique. Who was he trying to convince? ...Also, Tycon was fairly certain that Lone fabricated the sect he cited.
What in the seven h.e.l.ls and eleven heavens did the young man think he was doing?
Annoyed, Tycon observed Lone"s actions... He proved surprisingly effective with his back on the ground.
Tycon eyed the frayed rope belt around the young man"s waist-- it was the item he had claimed after the Saltspray Keep raid.
« System... identify: Lone"s magical belt. »
[Rope of Slave Fighting. Third-Circle Magical Belt. User"s reflexes are improved when unbalanced or p.r.o.ne.]
The corner of Tycon"s mouth twitched. It was a defensive item, with an incredibly rare conditional... and Lone was most certainly using it incorrectly.
What kind of combatant throws themselves onto the ground in a fight? This wasn"t a wrestling match-- this was a fight where a wind-magic enchanted sword had the reach and lethality to eviscerate the young man.
From what Tycon saw, Lone was no better on the ground than he was at standing. The belt was enchanted to reduce a disadvantage-- not to create a new... awkward and idiotic fighting style.
He was going to kill him if the angel statue didn"t do it for him.
...
The Lone Shadowdark rolled backward, getting to his feet. Adrenaline coursed through his veins and he felt the silvery surge of his mana pooling in his core.
There it was. It was back. Throughout exploring the Magic Tower, he had felt Yaeger"s presence... hinting at the strength he could unlock that was rightly his.
He held his weapon to the ceiling, ignoring the pain in his stomach, ignoring his throbbing left wrist, "Moon-Moon... Howl for me."
The angered eyes of his wolf-hammer, Moon-Moon glowed red before it exploded powerfully, lighting in a roiling flame. Lone felt the mana surge from his body into his weapon... as the weapon transformed...
As if it had a mind of its own, Moon-moon leapt out his hand and onto the floor. The second hammer, Moon, shot towards it and they melded together... and in a burst of flames and a metallic, echoing howl of a wolf, the weapon was reborn...
Where once was a hammer, remaining was a flaming, polished metallic black, two-tailed wolf. Its fur consisted of sharp metal spines and its teeth were thick razor blades, capable of crunching through stone. Its feet clanked heavily upon the rug as it stepped forward in front of Lone, growling at the Denman statue in his defense.
Lone smirked, "Let"s do this together... Moon-Moon-Moon."