Dungeon of Niflheim

Chapter 986: Chapter 986: Intense and brutal clash (4)

With every attack Baron Glorfile struck into the purple sphere, the denser and more lively it became, radiating an innate air of pure and utter destruction....a move you should do your upmost to avoid lest you wish to experience a swift death.

Unfortunately Rathborne had already made his choice. By the time he recognised his folly his left arm was already striking against Cavalish, to retreat now would only serve to open him up for a more disastrous counter.

"Roar!!!!" To embolden his nerves Rathborne roared with all the air held in his lungs, his every muscle became taught, and his aggressive forward steps were laced with a weight that even a mammoth would struggle to match.

A lot happened within the space of a couple seconds, but Frost and his allies didn’t miss a beat, their eyes glued to their screens as the somewhat blurry and chaotic forms of Rathborne, Cavalish and Baron Glorfile made ruinous contact.

The young Dungeon core’s thoughts were briefly torn, on one hand he wanted a clearer picture, to see every single minute detail of this fight but to do that the three of them would need to be either be fighting within the city or within the Dungeon, a risk that proved to be too great thus all he had was a subpar movie to watch but even that was more than enough to have his heart thump like a drum and his lips naturally turn upwards as excitement flowed through every part of his body.

’A-ranks....truly in a league of their own.’ Maya never revealed even a fraction of her true strength when they duelled in the early days and the same went for Khione, she always strictly regulated her strength to a difficult but manageable level for him.

His natural encounters with other A-ranks never ended well for him, even his most powerful attacks and fasted dodges were nothing in the face of their overwhelming power.

This tussle was truly enlightening.

BOOOOOMMMM!!!

A moment later an air shattering explosion burst between the three individuals, their skills facing off against each other with enough power to shatter mountains and alter the landscape.

Rathborne’s mace and the mace of the sanctified temple guard floating above him clashed with Cavalish’s endless slashes, his claws striking out ten times every time the mace approach another centimetre, truly death by a thousand slashes. This contest was about even, a victor taking a few more seconds or millisecond to decide. The sound was also much more grating to the ears as sonic booms met with blades of razor sharp wind, several of which veering off into the distance, striking primarily Rathborne’s subordinates given their numbers and Cavalish’s skills but a few did come down near his own elites sparking them to quickly retreat to a safer distance.

The most insane clash however was between Rathborne’s heavy, stele enforced shield and the strange purple sphere conjured by Baron Glorfile.

The moment he unleashed his last martial art upon the sphere, causing it to rapidly spin and struggle to maintain a peaceful form Baron Glorfile reeled back both his fists and punched, launching the sphere at Rathborne’s shield with the strength of a high grade mana cannon.

Before Rathborne could properly react the sphere struck against his shield with such force that his feet were temporarily lifted from the ground, his right arm experienced shocks of numbness and his incredibly durable shield started groaning under the pressure. This blow by itself was more than enough to warrant the destructive power of an expert grade skill but it was merely the initial move of this devasting combo.

The moment the sphere struck against the shield, deforming like rubber or gelatine all the martial techniques Baron Glorfile inscribed in its core burst forth. The purple sphere transformed into fists, arms, legs, elbows, knees and feet, replicating the combo sequence upon the shield making it shudder, and vibrate more and more with every proceeding blow.

Rathborne felt pain in his right arm, in fact the entire right side of his body was experiencing immense pressure. He felt as though several hundred metre tall waves from the northern sea were bashing against him, crushing his pitiful strength, forcing him to take several steps backwards as his trusted shield screamed as if it was in pain.

The pressure was endless and constantly building, by the time Rathborne had taken his third step back that screech and groaning from his shield had turned into a cracking sound. His shield, his low grade 5 star shield that he’d carried on his person for the past 8 years, saving his ass through innumerable events was starting to fracture. Baron Glorfile’s bare body was able to unleash greater destructive prowess than a massive monster or a renowned hammer user....a stationary target like Rathborne’s shield was a sitting duck for someone like the Baron. Dodge, attack, counter or disarm but never become a stationary target because once a pugilist starts their combo, few could match their burst power, especially someone as well seasoned in the arts as Baron Glorfile.

Rathborne was so overwhelmed by the right hand assault that it affected his attack on Cavalish, an attack that if he had been given another half second or so would have seen the claw user forced to back away, a finger or two perhaps even destined to be mangled. Alas thanks to the Baron he lost his balance and was unable to follow up the attack.

Boooooom!

There was another loud burst of air as Rathborne stopped resisting and allowed his body to be sent skidding across the ground, carving deep pits as he passed. If he dared to force the issue his shield would have shattered and the bones in his arm would have cracked. Cavalish would have never let go of such an opportunity even if it meant suffering an injury himself therefore his only viable option was to temporarily retreat and reassess the threat level of his two opponents.

"Thank you Baron." Cavalish recognised he’d be saved because of the Baron’s aggression, his eyes taking a deeper look at the old pugilist feeling that his true strength was far greater than their intelligence had suggested.

"No problem but it won’t be so easy to take advantage of him from now on." Baron Glorfile snorted in frustration, he desired to see that large shield of Rathborne’s shattered but the man escaped before he could land the final deciding blow. Unfortunately now that his threat had been established it was unlikely that Rathborne would give him another chance to unleash his devasting combos. This fight was already starting to drag on but now it was going to take even longer, Rathborne would surely try to drag things out as long as possible now that he knew it was impossible for him to land any significant damage on either of them.

"Agreed but as long as we keep up the pressure he’s bound to make a mistake." Cavalish revealed a sinister smile as he vanished like a shadow and reappeared next to Rathborne, his three pronged claws targeting the man’s thigh. Curb his legs and they’d curb his ability to not only endure a long fervent assault but also flee.

Of course Rathborne wasn’t an amateur when it came to fighting, he shifted his feet, avoided the razor sharp claws and brough down the butt of his mace, less power but much faster than attacking with the face of the weapon.

Cavalish teleported a few metres away in an instant, his footwork technique at such a high level it could be compared to skills like [Shadow step].

"True." Baron Glorfile attacked in concert, a half beat behind his ally, his fist aiming for that large, cumbersome shield -at least from his point of view as a pugilist- that was sporting several small surface cracks thanks to his [Martial art: Purple sun’s descent]. A point of entry and weakness that he sought to take advantage of.

"Annoying bastards!" Rathborne’s expression was one laced with fury, this fight was no longer enjoyable but grating on his soul. His two opponents were like clingy exes, moving in perfect concert to impede his momentum and gradually siphon away his stamina.

Every play he made, every skill he summoned and every reckless move he made they took it in stride. The longer they fought against him the better they could read him especially Baron Glorfile.

The experienced military General knew well that the moment they either deprived Rathborne of his shield or successfully cut into his leg muscles this battle would be over, and the Crown Prince would be bereft of one of his hidden blades.

Over the following ten minutes the three clashed violently, sometimes relying on simple weapon mastery, martial/weapon styles and sometimes mighty skills would be invoked but the wounds inflicted tended to be minor at best, the real damage was from physical exertion and the further fracturing of Rathborne’s shield.

By this point sweat was dripping down their faces, the battle may have been short lived so far but it was with maximum intensity, neither side letting up for even a second.

The 150 men and women under Rathborne had dwindled down to less than 30, 20% of what they started with and all that managed to achieve with such losses was a single death and a few grievous wounds on the enemy, a dismal result.

A definite decisive victory for the neutral nobles and Prince Sedrick was on the horizon, simply a matter of time.