Realm of Monsters

Chapter 609: Gale & Blood Fang Style Part 2

  The ground exploded in a cloud of dust underneath Gale as she disappeared in an incredible burst of speed. Jahn met her step for step. Clouds of dust exploded throughout the ring, obscuring the onlookers' sight, save for the constant storm of sparks of steel clashing against steel.

  Jahn stood at the center of the dust cloud, eyes closed, his breath steady. Gale flitted around the ring, striking Jahn only to disappear into the dust cloud and reappear behind him. Her steps were silent and her sword only slashed out for a sliver of a breath. Yet each time Jahn evaded her attacks. Instead of blocking her attacks head-on like the first time, he used the spear to carry the moment of her sword away and deflect it to the side. He barely moved, twisting his body just enough to avoid the edge of her blade.

  Gale stepped back and held off for a moment. She had slashed her blade into the ground every so often, purposefully drawing a constant cloud of dust into the air. Jahn could not see a thing, but it didn’t seem to affect him. It was almost as if he was reading the wind currents, listening to her every movement. But that was an ability only taught to advanced masters of her family’s sword style. It couldn’t be…

  Yet her instincts warned her otherwise. Either way, he was barely expending any energy to stop her while she was burning through her reserves quickly. This wasn’t working. If he truly was reading the currents, then she’d do something he could not read.

  Life force filled her legs and she dashed forward. Her sword struck out like lightning and just as before Jahn brought his spear up to deflect. But she feinted and her sword soared past his spear and his body. Suddenly, the wind howled and pooled around her sword into a new current, ripping through the rest and dragging all towards the edge of her blade.

  Jahn opened his eyes in surprise as he stumbled backwards into her sword. His feet lifted off the ground, but instead of falling, flew upwards, weightless. His small body swam through her new current; he soared over her sword and landed untouched behind her.

  Gale stood still, stunned. Instead of trying to read her wind current or break it, he had let himself be carried by it and came out unscathed. She had never seen such a thing. Now more than ever she was certain her opponent was well-versed in the Gale Style. She lowered her blade and waited for the dust cloud to clear. Jahn hadn’t moved, but his eyes were now open, staring at her warily. 

  The crowd cheered at the sight of the two warriors still standing. Stryg beamed with pride that his uncle had held his own. Stellan and Willow were different, they wore confused expressions. 

  “It’s not over?” muttered Stellan.

  Gian stroked his trimmed salt and pepper beard. “Jahn favors a defensive style, whereas our Lady has always preferred to overwhelm her opponents. She will not find victory if she cannot break through his wall.”

  Willow furrowed her brow. “Is she— Is she smiling?”

  Gale’s red lips were curled in a wide, vicious grin. A fire of excitement burned in her chest. She couldn’t remember the last time she had clashed against an equal. A small voice in her head warned her to be careful not to hurt him, he was a Veres, but that voice grew dimmer with every breath. Jahn stared at her, his face becoming uneasy.

  Life force began to build up in her body, overflowing and spilling outwards. The air around her became hazy as her aura grew thick with power. 

  “Damn, she’s not playing,” Willow shivered. “I can feel her aura from here.”

  Gale slowly shifted her feet and took a different stance with her sword.

  Stryg recognized the stance and cocked his head to the side. “The Cascade Stance…? Why is she using one of the five Fundamentals?” He imagined with that level of energy she was outputting she would favor one of the more advanced skills.

  “It may be a Fundamental, but it is also the core to some of our deadliest skills,” explained Stellan.

  Gian watched in silence, his eyes narrowed with interest.

  Willow’s expression darkened. “It will not matter if Lord Jahn dodges or blocks.”

  As if to prove Willow’s point, Gale leaped forward and attacked with abandon. Jahn evaded several strikes and deflected the rest, yet with every attack Gale’s blade moved faster, the wind carrying her body forward.

  Stryg knew the Cascade Stance well, it was arguably the strongest of the Fundamentals. A myriad of quick, shallow attacks that would gather more wind around the user, channeling it through their blade until culminating into a final powerful, staggering attack. 

  The Cascade Stance was designed for a single swordsman to wade through a small company of enemies, growing faster with each attack, and at its culmination to be able to break through the enemy line. When faced against a single opponent all the enemy had to do was break through the attacks’ momentum and disrupt the gathering wind currents.

  Stryg thought Jahn was skilled enough to do it, but as Stryg watched the duel, all he saw was his uncle being pushed back. A sinking feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. Jahn excelled in defensive maneuvers. He was struggling to find an opening for a heavy strike to break through Gale’s onslaught. He was being overwhelmed. Every time Jahn tried to put some distance Gale chased after him, hammering away as if striking an anvil.

  Jahn abruptly changed tactics and opted to attack, but they were weak, unable to stop Gale’s countless slashes. 

  Stellan sighed. “It’s over.”

  “And that’s why the Gale Style is the greatest. We can change our tactics to match any opponent,” Willow said, pride in her voice.

  Stryg’s hopes fell at the sight. She was right. The Gale Style emphasized the ability to adapt. As Stryg looked around the crowd, he noticed the other vampires held similar expressions to Willow. Stryg glanced at Gian and did a double take. The elder vampire was leaning forward at the edge of the bench, his eyes wide.

  Stryg wrinkled his brow. He glanced at the fight, nothing had changed. Jahn was still clashing against Gale, slowly being pushed back, fighting his best against the inevitable. Stryg could feel the breeze rushing past him, being drawn into the dueling ring. Gale was growing faster as the wind flowed about her.

  And yet… Stryg frowned. Something was off. Jahn was being pushed back, but he wasn’t being overwhelmed. He was meeting each of Gale’s attacks with his own, metal sparks flying with every clash.

  Something had changed… The way Jahn moved the spear was reminiscent of… A shiver of excitement ran through Stryg. Gale wasn’t the only one drawing the wind to her, it was coalescing around Jahn as well. His stance was different, but it was still the Cascade Stance. Stryg had a suspicion ever since he had first returned to the Blood Fang Tribe, but now he was sure of it, the origin of the Blood Fang Style.

  Gale’s attacks were now a blur. The wind howled all around her and Jahn. She didn’t know how, but the goblin-hybrid in front of her was performing his own Cascade Stance. 

  It didn’t matter. As her Cascade reached its culmination she changed her form and infused all the wind around her sword. An azure light blazed to life inside her blade.

  Stryg watched in awe. He remembered Stellan’s words. The Cascade Stance was the basis for more powerful skills, ones that required a storm of currents.

  Jahn tried to pull back at the sight of Gale’s glowing sword, but it was too late. She moved in and swung her blade down. Jahn dropped his spear and held his breath, as he pulled his own wind currents into himself. The dueling ring grew abruptly quiet and was wrapped in a bubble of silence. The wind died within. The currents raging around her sword fell apart like threads. She stumbled forward, shocked. Jahn planted his feet and struck an open palm into her sternum. She folded and went flying back, her body skidding out of the ring’s bounds.

  Jahn released his breath and the bubble of silence popped, and the wind rushed back into the ring. Gale was doubled over, wheezing and coughing up blood. The crowd stood stunned, unsure of what they had just witnessed.

  “My nephew has drawn first blood, the duel is over.” Gian stood up and sharply clapped twice.

  The crowd glanced at each other uncertainly and clapped half-heartedly before slowly dispersing.

  Jahn didn’t care. He broke into a smile and turned to Stryg, “What did I say? I told you the Blood Fang Style is—”

  But Stryg wasn’t listening. He rushed over to Gale and was already channeling White. A healing glow wrapped around her ribs and she breathed a little softer.

  “Are you alright?” Stryg asked, his voice dripping with worry.

  “F-Fine,” she rasped.

  Jahn’s smile fell and his shoulders slumped a little at the sight. He had fought for the Sylvan honor. He had fought for Stryg, but his nephew seemed to not even care. All of a sudden he felt very alone in a manor of vampires and humans.

  “That was very impressive, Jahn Veres.” Gian walked over, his single arm clasped behind his back.

  Jahn looked up at his namesake, suddenly self-conscious. “A-Ah. Thank you. That means a lot, coming from you.”

  “She’ll be alright, she’s had much worse.” Gian cast a glance at his niece.

  “That’s good, I didn’t mean to hurt her. At least, not too badly.”

  “Yes, your skills were quite something.” Gian stared at the spear lying on the dirt. “Your style is rooted in the Gale Style.”

  Jahn crossed his arms. “The Blood Fang Style is its own.”

  “I’m not arguing its validity, I am simply noting its origin.”

  “My mother created our tribe’s spear style.”

  “Your mother, Nalindra? As in, my sister’s daughter? Stryga Veres’ daughter?” 

  “Yes…?”

  Gian nodded to himself. “And she was half-goblin, then?”

  “Yeah, that’s right.”

  “Not much taller than you, I’d imagine?”

  Jahn frowned. “Yeah, she took after my grandfather.”

  “Her reach would have been short, not suitable for a sword… If Stryga had taught her the Gale Style it wouldn’t have been very effective, unless— it was changed. But to take a complex and ancient sword style such as the Gale and create an entirely derivative style with a different weapon that rivals the original Style…” Gian shook his head.

  “It would require someone with the ability to discern every step of the Gale Style’s forms and a deep understanding of its unique life force flow. In other words, a genius of such talent that hasn’t been seen since the likes of you,” said Melantha.

  Gian spun around and looked up at the mysterious woman sitting atop the courtyard’s wall, her feet dangling in the air. “You… Since when have you been there, Lady Melantha?”

  Melantha shrugged, “My sister and I are taking turns keeping an eye on our little brother.”

  “We are quite capable of protecting young Lord Veres.”

  “You misunderstand. I’m here to protect him from others.”

  Gian waited for Melantha to elaborate but she didn’t.

  Jahn bowed deeply. “Lady Melantha, it is an honor to see you once more.”

  “Hello, little Veres. I enjoyed watching your battle,” said Melantha. “Gian is right though. Your style is clearly a derivative of the Gale Style. I can only assume Nalindra was the genius behind it?”

  Jahn shrugged, “My mother was like me. She wasn’t blessed with magic. But that didn’t stop her.”

  “Admirable,” said Gian.

  “I’m more interested in your particular Style’s deviation,” said Melantha. “Your style mimics various aspects of the Gale, but it also had several skills that seemed to have been purposefully created to counter the Gale Style. What was that you did at the end there? You stopped the wind entirely for a moment.”

  Jahn picked up his spear. “My mother swore that she’d one day surpass my grandmother. She developed the Blood Fang Style for that purpose.”

  Melantha’s lips curled upwards. “A Style born to stop the Gale. How interesting.”