Chapter 52: Battle Of The Fittest: Diane’s Dance

A portal erupted before Roman, and the AirBoxer MantisShrimp scuttled out with those club like fists already set for combat.

Mark’s gaze didn’t waver, not even for the slightest moment. He simply removed his hands from his pockets. With his mind set and ready, he shut his eyes. His thoughts drifted back to what he had seen during his exploration within the Amazon chamber of his summon.

Along those distant walls, ancient engraved writings and artistic murals had stretched endlessly, carrying messages and stories he once couldn’t fully decipher. Most of the symbols remained unreadable to him, likely incoherent to his mind back then, pieces of a puzzle whose full picture he wasn’t yet able to understand.

His thoughts went to the particularly strange drawing that represented a traditionally dressed giant female with an incredible warhammer in her arsenal. A colossal mystical creature was coiled along her massive figure, its length stretched like a taut rope, with her feet positioned over its tail.

He could feel an ancient force that connected him to her, immense power and authority flowing through his vessels.

And it was time to call forth his summon.

His eyes opened like a gleaming sun as he released a mental command.

’Cassandra, come forth. It’s your time to shine.’

Cassandra appeared beside him, towering as ever, emerging from the magical whirlwind. Her eyes quickly locked onto her opponent, mostly the shrimp summon, and then they sparked with a flicker of interest.

If he could only guess, it felt like she was glad and fervent to finally face an opponent worthy of battle intelligence and knowledge, rather than the mindless, instinctive ones she had been forced to face for too long.

It was obvious that she could already tell, just from her opponent’s calculating, alert bearing, that it carried a genuine measure of combat awareness. She had more than enough experience to recognize traits like that at a glance, well versed as she was in reading her own kind of element in an opponent.

Roman noticed the particular way the Amazon regarded his summon, prompting him to glance her way as well.

"Hmm, don’t tell me another summon’s already sizing mine up for a meal. I’m sick of this shit happening with pretty much every opponent I face. I’ll teach them exactly why they shouldn’t think that way, starting with her," he muttered under his breath.

His eyes drifted over the Amazon’s graceful, well built frame.

’Not gonna lie, she’s genuinely tempting, all things considered. Wonder what it’s actually like, having something like that around all the time,’ he thought, before quickly catching himself, reeling back from the direction of his own bad instincts the moment Cassandra’s gaze swept over him.

’So there are more irredeemable insects here? I can hardly wait to crush every last one of them,’ she thought inwardly.

"You know, there’s really nothing special about that summon of yours, not like the rest of ours, with our own unique traits and presence. She’d fit right in working a brothel!" Roman shouted the thought aloud, fists clenching tight at his sides.

"I still can’t believe how many people lost to her already, my own guy Max included. My summon’s going to show all of them exactly how to get past her."

Scattered chants and cheers of encouragement rose up from those in the crowd who backed his words, clearly eager to watch the scene play out. With that, the referee’s whistle sounded, signaling the start of the match.

Before Mark could even fully process it, Cassandra was already surging forward. He shouldn’t have been caught off guard by her usual vigor by now, yet this particular display still stood out as the most intense he’d witnessed from her so far.

Roman clenched his jaw as he commanded the MantisShrimp forward into battle. The creature lunged ahead with quick, air scuttling movements, its body appearing to hover just barely above the platform floor.

The moment both summons met, the shrimp summon quickly blocked a slashing kick from Cassandra’s side using its hardened, club like hands. It followed immediately with an attack known as the Spear, driving its hooked claws straight toward the Amazon’s exposed ribs.

Cassandra twisted her torso to evade, countering with a sharp elbow strike.

Her attack was deflected cleanly by the shrimp’s left arm, the force of the block enough to push her back several steps.

Working at a clear disadvantage given the significant height gap between them, the MantisShrimp readjusted by raising its entire upper body higher, coiling upward almost like a striking cobra, close enough now to meet the Amazon’s frame directly.

Its stalk mounted eyes tracked her every movement with remarkable spectral clarity, the creature calculating and predicting her actions with unsettling accuracy, its many legs shifting constantly beneath it to hold that awkward, elevated posture.

It pressed the advantage immediately, snapping forward with a rapid combination, one club fist aimed low toward her knee, the other sweeping high toward her jaw in the same breath.

Cassandra caught the low strike against her shin, absorbing the impact with a faint grunt, while tilting her head back just enough to let the second blow whistle past her chin, close enough that she felt the displaced air brush her skin. It pressed forward without pause, refusing to give her any real room to breathe between exchanges.

She answered with a low, sweeping kick aimed at the base of its stance, forcing the creature to skitter backward on its many legs to keep its balance, dust kicking up around its scrambling feet.

It recovered almost instantly, though, lashing out again with its hooked claw, catching the trailing edge of her pauldron and scraping a bright line across the polished bronze, sparks briefly scattering from the impact before fading against the platform floor.

Cassandra’s eyes flickered, not with pain, but with something closer to genuine appreciation. Few opponents had ever managed to land even a glancing blow against her so cleanly.

She rolled her shoulder once, testing the shallow scrape, before settling back into her stance with renewed focus, the faint trace of a smile ghosting at the corner of her mouth.

From the stands, Kai watched with narrowed eyes, nodding faintly to himself. Max, catching the gesture, felt a flicker of relief mixed with lingering embarrassment over his own earlier, humiliating defeat. Still, he masked it behind a supportive smile as he kept watching the match unfold.

"Mark’s summon might already be outpacing a lot of people, pretty impressive for something this new," Kai said, eyes narrowing further as he studied the exchange. "But nobody should count Roman’s shrimp out either. That thing’s spent years mastering real martial arts fundamentals growing up. I’d still put Roman’s odds ahead here."

"Same read from me," Max replied. "Roman’s about to show him what actual battle experience looks like."

"Guess we’re about to find out either way," Kai added, eyes still fixed on the platform as the two summons continued trading blows below.

Roman’s full attention stayed locked on the fight, watching the exchange between the two summons grow increasingly intense and spectacular by the second. His fists clenched at his sides with every trade of blows, silently willing his summon to find the opening it needed.

Meanwhile, Mark stood silently, arms folded, studying the shifting rhythm of his Amazon’s footwork closely.

It moved swift and fluid, almost as though something were naturally guiding her along exactly the right path through the fight.

His eyes narrowed the moment he noticed her weight shifting cleanly from one leg to the other, smoothly maneuvering around her opponent before countering with another sharp strike.

Each step seemed to flow directly into the next, no wasted motion, no hesitation, as though her body already knew exactly where the fight was going before it happened.

Still, her opponent proved a genuinely solid match for that efficiency. It clearly carried years of dedicated combat training behind it, having mastered a wide range of techniques and fighting styles over time.

It pressed forward again, testing her with a rapid series of jabs meant to probe for any gap in her guard, each one met either by a clean parry or a small, precise step that left it striking empty air, the creature’s stalked eyes recalculating with every failed attempt.

But Cassandra moved like something closer to royalty in motion, an elegant princess given battlefield form.

Almost like she was... dancing? Wait, she was actually dancing.

Realization struck Mark all at once, the pieces clicking suddenly into place as he watched her move.

Those weren’t simply ordinary footwork patterns or standard combat techniques at all. This was something older, an ancient, specialized art capable of dramatically amplifying a warrior’s raw battle power.

This was Diane’s Dance, and she had chosen, deliberately, to wield it now against her opponent, every step from this point on carrying the weight of that ancient, storied technique passed down through her bloodline.

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A/N: I hope that you’re enjoying it so far. If you’ve reached this point, I would already appreciate you to do me a favor of giving your reviews. It helps a lot to motivate. Let’s go further together!