superjars
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The creature watched as the crackling bullet shot out at his opponent, roiling through the air, sparks firing off in all directions as it closed in on his intended target. Right before the blast reached the man, the creature noted a quick movement and grimaced as a light shield appeared before each of the copies, similar to what he had seen the man do at the beginning of their battle. The blast struck the shield, sparked furiously against its solid, golden surface and then rebounded off to the side, carrying on for several seconds before finally dispersing into the surrounding air. Cassivo ran a quick assessment through his mind, taking stock of his previous encounters with this man: either his copies all had the exact same abilities as Illian did, or he had struck the correct one, as unlikely as that seemed. He had to find out which, but would have little time to do so. Even now, the six figures before him were creating globes of light in their hands, reminiscent of the ones that had blinded him earlier, and a glare that bright would easily blind Cassivo for long enough for the man to finish the fight. In response, he quickly slung his right arm in front of his face to shield his eyes, closing them tightly as he counted off several seconds and then snapped them open, just in time to see six spears come bearing down on him.
The warrior had to act quickly if he was going to survive this. Energy surged out of the creature's right arm and right leg, the former falling limp at his right side, and the latter pulling him down to a kneeling position. The drained power flowed directly into his left arm and hand, which still held his scythe. His hand slid down its shaft while his body drooped, holding the dead weight, but with his arm now having added speed and strength from the large amounts of power coursing through its muscles and skin, he was able to wield the weapon with ease. He began to counterattack the enemies who approached him in a semi-circle, each one thrusting their spears at his body in various places, but as they approached, he saw a weird shimmer, as if they were constantly switching places, their movements being used to hide some greater strategy. However, with only a few seconds before their attacks reached him, he didn't have time to consider the repercussions of the phenomenon. Cassivo moved his scythe towards the attackers he could reach, slicing at their weapons to knock them off course. One, two, three; his scythe caught on nothing, and the copies dissolved in a glow of yellow light along with their weapons. Four, five; still no resistance was felt as he struck through another two spears. He realized in one horrific moment what the shimmering had been about: the man had been switching with his doubles, moving so that he ended up on Cassivo's weak side. Without a second thought, the warrior flipped his hand over and sent the butt of his scythe streaking at the spear aimed at his limp right arm. He pushed with all his might, the end of his weapon crackling with energy as it connected with the light spear, nudging it just out of line with his central wire, so that it only cut through several layers of his outer ones.
His opponent danced backwards from the strike, moving to regroup for a renewed assault. The creature allowed the energy to balance itself around his body again, teeth clenching as his battered right arm struggled to find good strands of flesh for the energy to flow through. His arm was pure agony, as every time the power found a dead strand, he felt the pain of that severed connection. He would need to mend these strands before he would be able to use his right appendage to its full capacity, but he had at least saved it from being made unusable. This opponent was becoming a pain, and Cassivo knew he couldn't go up against the man's trickery and speed without sustaining more serious injuries. That was not to say that the man would defeat him; compared to battling through his first life, ten years of pure hell, this battle had been a walk in the park thus far. But if he didn't end this quickly, he would be hard pressed to defeat any of the other combatants who he'd have to face today. With that understanding, his mind was made up: he would have to use another burst of feral mode to incapacitate this guy quickly, regardless of the fact that he wouldn't be able to use it again in this Arena. Fifteen seconds would be enough to take the man down, from his estimation, but not enough to kill him. Cassivo pushed the knowledge of Illian to the forefront of his mind in preparation, in particular the man's scent and abilities.
He slid the scythe onto his back, securing in in place before putting the fifteen second block on his brain and siphoning the energy from his mind. This time there was a slight difference to his transformation: rather than keeping the energy left in his head evenly distributed, he moved energy from the vision centers of his brain and from his eyes and moved them to the smell centers and to his nose, respectively. Doing this was dangerous, but with only fifteen seconds to act, he needed to counteract his opponent's tricks. His eyes grew dark and shaded, their normal glow disappearing so that they blended in with the rest of his face. He sniffed the air, the mixture of various elements and spilled blood the first to reach him. He sifted through each scent until he found the ones he was looking for. Light. Illian. Now that he'd locked on to his opponent, he dropped to all fours once again, surging forward with renewed vigor, as if he had not been touched this entire fight. All pain was gone from him. All thought but the need to destroy his prey had fled from his mind.
Cassivo's movements were quick and strong as he moved in a haphazard path towards the man; five seconds. The smell of light entered his nostrils; a weapon was coming towards his head. He slid easily to the side, bypassing the weapon, feeling the air pressure as it went directly past his face. He pounced past the blade, past the shaft, the smell of the man's body, his perspiration and his fighting spirit all evident to the creature's empowered sense; ten seconds. The monstrous predator's body slammed into his opponent, carrying both of them to the ground. He could feel the man's body jar as it hit, head snapping down to crack against the metallic floor, the breath leaving his body as the predator's weight pushed into his stomach. The creature on top of Illian could still smell the life-blood coursing through the prey's body: still alive, still able to fight. The creature bared his teeth, opening his jaw to come down on the man's neck, to split it open and pour the man's blood all over the Arena floor; fifteen seconds. Time's up.
The block on his mind dissolved with a flood of energy, and the pain in his right arm, and now the upper part of his left shoulder, burst into his mind along with the toll his decision had on his body. The creature let loose a loud, bestial roar of fury which echoed throughout the Arena, slowly transforming to a tortured cry as he returned to his equilibrium. After a few seconds, the pain started to dull, the cry was cut off and his body slumped onto his opponent, the rise and fall of the man's chest evident as Cassivo pressed against it. He hoped that no one would bother him for a few minutes, so that he could recover his balance and prepare for the next phase of combat. He looked out upon the others who were fighting, praying to the Energy Lord that his cry had not warranted their attention and that his prone form would fool them into thinking he was finished. As he lay on top of the man, waiting for his body to complete its balancing act, he couldn't help but feel honored to have fought this man: he had been forced to use his feral form twice, his limit for that particular ability, and had come out of this battle with some pretty serious injuries, even though he had avoided losing his most important pathways. He prayed that this man, Illian, would have good luck in the future and that they'd be able to meet again, hopefully under brighter and better circumstances.
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