The wolf’s fangs slammed into the center of the defenses, leaving a trail of snow behind. The ape roared as the wolf made of steel and ice tore at its flesh. Ripping the shadows to shreds, the northerner’s attack, without losing even half of its force, smashed into the rainbow scales. They only held it back for a moment, then cracked. Einen didn’t fly back, however. Still on his feet, he slid along the floor for about three yards until he came to a halt, plunging his spear-staff into the stone. The clothes covering his chest had been torn to shreds. A black, terrible bruise was spreading across it, and blood was running down the corners of his lips.
“You withstood one of my attacks.” Oddly enough, the old man spoke the desert language as fluently as Einen and Hadjar did. “You deserve to know my name. I am Ragar White Wolf.”
When he said ‘White Wolf’, the tattoo on Hadjar’s forearm grew slightly warmer. Just for a moment. Now it was clear how Sankesh’s group had managed to get to the library. Serra had shown them the way, but the trial of the first golem had been intended for those who have a Name. Like Ragar.
“We need a plan,” Hadjar croaked as he approached Einen.
“I don’t think we have time to discuss one!” The islander plunged his staff into the ground in front of him, calling upon all the shadows he could reach.
Ragar struck the ice around him with crushing blows. With each strike, the amount of ice increased. After he had covered a section of the floor that was about forty yards in diameter with ice, each subsequent attack started shooting out ice ‘fists’ that came up from directly beneath Einen’s and Hadjar’s feet. It was like Olgerd’s Technique, but while Olgerd had created fairly chaotic ice spears, Ragar could actually aim. Einen and Hadjar managed to dodge at the last moment, but they couldn’t keep that up forever.
Ragar was toying with them. He smiled. His task was simply to bog down the islander and Hadjar. The former posed no real threat to his konung, and Sankesh wanted to deal with the latter himself. There was no need to kill them right away. Ragar wanted to warm up, and besides, he could observe Arliksha’s fight as well if he drew things out.
“I’ll kill you!” Shakh roared again.
The scar across his face flashed and he threw out his right hand. The dagger in his hand lit up, and three sand dogs charged in. Without any input from Arliksha, the purple spheres floating around her flew toward them. Buzzing like bees and leaving behind a trail of smoke, they began to ram into the dogs’ bodies, but were unable to do even the slightest bit of harm to them.
Shakh’s first attack left a long gash on his opponent’s thigh. Arliksha cried:
“Peacock’s Tail!” As she swung her saber.
It looked as if Arliksha had launched not just one attack, but a dozen. She made little, abrupt movements, which left behind colorful silhouettes of weapons. These silhouettes lengthened and thickened, until a whole fan was soaring through the air toward Shakh.
Shakh managed to erect a sand wall in front of him, which he then entered as if through a door. After the wall was hit, the sand flew everywhere, but the young man was no longer there. The others, however, weren’t so lucky.
With a shrill ‘Kya!’ Sular’s bird, spreading its broad wings out, shielded its friend and master. One of the beams conjured by Arliksha’s Technique twisted around the bird’s neck. A scarlet fountain drenched the silent hermit’s face. Horrified, he watched his best friend die. With a menacing cry, Sular drew his sword and lunged at his opponent, but suddenly stopped. His arms twitched and his weapon clattered to the floor. One of Sankesh’s warriors had managed to place a Technique that looked like a stone spear in front of the distraught Sular. He’d been run through, and he remained impaled there, flailing in agony as he tried to find purchase with his feet.
Kharad, who had seen it all happen, could hardly hold on to his sanity. Alone, with just his sword and his small shield blazing, he was holding back the onslaught of three of Sankesh’s warriors at once.
Arliksha and Shakh’s fight turned into a duel. The tyrant’s daughter no longer hid her aura. The power of a Heaven Soldier pressed down on Shakh. But even that couldn’t stop his furious onslaught.
The remaining six beams Arliksha had conjured scattered across the room. They easily cut through the bookshelves. Hundreds of scraps of paper and parchment swirled in the air. From off to the side, the witches’ cries of despair could clearly be heard even as they tried to save Ramukhan.
Shakh emerged from the sand behind Arliksha, grabbed his dagger in a reverse grip, and slashed at the girl’s back. There was no cry, no blood, only a shower of sparks followed the young man’s swift lunge. The girl had armor beneath her leather suit. The Heaven level artifact had easily blocked Shakh’s quick but not very strong strike. Arliksha, realizing that if it hadn’t been for her artifact, she would now be dead, became enraged. Turning on her heel, she swung her saber with all her might. Her saber, flashing with a pale, pink glow, left a trail behind that looked like a peacock spreading its wings.
The attack was so powerful that it cut into the stone floor, leaving behind gouges several feet deep. Shakh was cut in two as easily as the bookshelves had been. The triumphant smile on Arliksha’s face immediately wilted when, instead of blood… sand poured from Shakh’s body. Then the two halves crumbled, and Shakh, sitting on one of his sand dogs, jumped out from somewhere off to the side.
“Sand Fang!” Shakh shouted.
The dog beneath him dissipated in a cloud of sand, and then, turning into a huge dagger, left another cut behind on his foe’s body. This time, it was on her shoulder. Despite its size, the attack had been so swift that Arliksha had only seen a brown flash. As soon as Shakh touched the sand on the floor, he fell into it.
While Arliksha was trying to get Shakh, Hadjar and Einen were trying to survive.
“Can you do that trick again?” Hadjar asked while once again dodging the ice fist that shot out from beneath him. Einen nodded silently.
“On my mark, then!”
Ragar knew that the practitioners were up to something, but he was dismissive of their efforts. Of course, they were much stronger than anyone at their level he’d fought before, but what could ordinary practitioners do against him…
His next attack, aimed at Hadjar, suddenly… hit its target. The ice fist punched through the swordsman’s chest. For a split second, Ragar looked away from the other battle, surprised. By the time he saw the impaled body disappearing into the shadows, it was already too late.
“Autumn Leaf!” Someone behind him shouted.
Hadjar, emerging from Einen’s shadow, immediately awakened the little dragon within him and attached the black blade to Mountain Wind. He imagined three autumn leaves landing on the Spirit Knight’s back.
Chapter 407
Hadjar launched two attacks. Two blue crescents with black sparks inside them stretched out into sharp ribbons.
Ragar, despite his bulk and impressive muscles, was faster than anyone Hadjar had ever seen. A fighter who was used to fighting with his own hands rather than with weapons had to have enough speed and strength to keep up with a spearman or a swordsman.
The northerner’s hands blurred as the two strikes merged together. He didn’t summon the wolf heads and didn’t use any Techniques. However, there was so much power in his every blow that Hadjar couldn’t block them.