Scorching Ascension - 2.42: Detonation

A/N: Chapter went a little longer than expect. Next one on Sunday likely.

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Three concussive fireballs were already glowing above Ethan’s horns as he flew up, hovering over the wreck as the voices of the crowd died out below him. Wind rushed past him, smelling of pine as he drifted away from the settlement and as he waited for Zacharia to pull himself out of the wreckage. As expected, the man was fine, though his appearance had certainly changed.

Antlers crowned his long brown hair. His eyes had turned completely black and as he smiled up at Ethan, sharp teeth gleamed in the moonlight as insectile, almost invisible large wings buzzed him up from ground. A mist of unearthly purple and pink wafted out of them, and Ethan could see hooves where the man’s feet had been, extending out of a pair of black harem pants that [Sphinx’s Gaze] told him were another spellform. The hands were thin, sharp claws, and they glowed with the same color as what was emanating out the wings. Zacharia rose to Ethan’s altitude, drifting after him as they put some distance away from the Brotherhood’s settlement, a grin plastered on his face. “What is this? Leading us to one of your friends?”

His voice was different, almost buzzing in Ethan’s ears, and his eyes narrowed. “I’ve got business with you. Not the people in your camp.”

The smile split unnaturally wide. Coupled with the pitch black eyes, the man looked creepy. With his chest still bared, it made him look like some weird amalgamation of human and insect, and the voice was the worst of all. “Hah. How noble of you. Reggie said you were the kind to kill first and ask questions later. Why the change of heart? Hoping they’ll join you on the off-chance you’d win?” He chuckled. “That the people I’ve chosen and protected will just follow you without consequences? That’ll be funny to see. And tell me, what will you do when they refuse to follow you? When they hate you for killing their friends and companions? Will you kill them too? Abandon them? Throw them in a cabin and melt the key?”

This dude talked too much. Thankfully, they were already close to a hundred yards away from camp. So Ethan was free to let loose.

The first fireball flew out, drawing a pale orange trail in its wake as Ethan burst forward after it, claws primed to tear and shred the man’s wings to ribbons, but Zacharia only waved a hand and the glowing haze that’d been building behind his blurry wings rippled, and a thread made of pink mist stretched out to intercept. Ethan readied himself for a detonation as wind zipped around him, but it never came.

The fireball just winked out, unraveling harmlessly like a soap bubble.

“Cute little spell,” said the man, and the voice buzzed in his ears again. Gritting his teeth, Ethan shot a pressurized jet at the man, only for his opponent to buzz away.

“Clumsy,” he called out, voice dripping with derision, and Ethan’s teeth gnashed. It wasn’t the trash-talking that was pissing him off, but there was something about the voice and magic it carried that he couldn’t put his finger on. It was getting under his scales. Maybe to frustrate him?

Ethan shook his head. The fight just started. He shouldn’t let the words get into his head or he’d be playing into the man’s hands.

But what else did he have hidden?

Could Ethan win this?

He banked to the side, dodging a barely visible dart that left a glittering trail in his vision, and his brows knitted as he ignited his scales for good measure. Of course he could win this. Why wouldn’t he? Why would he ever doubt himself when the fight had just started.

“What’s wrong? Having second thoughts?” the voice echoed in his ears, and a sliver of doubt whittled at his belief that he would win this, twisting what it stole to give him the impression that the man ahead was the superior fighter of the two of them.

The thought felt foreign in his mind. Ethan had always been cautious in fights, calculating risks and advantages—but this creeping doubt? This wasn't tactical assessment. This was something else entirely, worming its way through his thoughts like smoke through cracks.

The realization was at once infuriating and somewhat funny, and then it resulted in a teeth-bearing scoff as Ethan activated his Prime Manifestation for beat, setting the foreign influence aflame until the doubts that weren’t his own were burnt away. It wasn’t that Ethan had been absolutely confident in his ability and couldn’t conceive himself losing. Of course not. But in this scenario, it made no sense for him to be having cold feet not even a minute into the fight.

That wasn’t him. Why would he ever consider a loss when the fight had barely begun?

Ahead of him, Zacharia seemed to have sensed his influence melt away, and his smile flickered before it returned even wider. “Oh? Looks like you got some tricks of your own, then. You didn’t just get to that level by being a dumb brute, I guess,” the man mused as he cracked his neck and as his claws lengthened.

Ethan wished he had an ear-spellform that’d spare him from having to listen. But he didn’t. So he’d have to settle for the next best thing.

The two concussive [Overloading Fireballs] shot forward and as he exploded after them, he began channeling three more onto his [Elemental Crown] and this time, he let them build up naturally. He needed an even mix of explosive and fire for this battle.

Zacharia’s smile dropped as he flitted away, but the fireballs had the [Homing] modifier applied to them and the two pale orange orbs swerved after him. Teeth bared, he shot another of his barely visible projectiles at one, detonating both of them, but with Ethan having had the time to charge decently well—but not so much that it’d slow them—the shockwave still reached him.

Zacharia grimaced as he was violently shoved back but by the time Ethan reached him, the man was braced and ready, black eyes glinting with focus.

With two swings of his claws followed by a burst of [Scorching] flames out of his scales, it became obvious. Ethan hadn’t been the only one hitting rift by his lonesome ever since they’d gotten back to Earth, and it was showing. Zacharia was fast. Sharp. He dodged seamlessly. The flare of flames should have caught him by surprise, but as soon as the flames manifested on Ethan’s scales he’d backed off. He was cautious. Methodical.

Annoying.

A spray of darts landed on Ethan’s wing as he shielded himself and glared at the flitting figure. Ethan wanted to bring this down to the ground and if it hadn’t been for the harpies’ rift, he wouldn’t have been able to keep up. But even though Zacharia was a better flier than he was, his attacks weren’t doing much to Ethan’s scales though the insectile figure’s constant maneuvering was puzzling him.

Zacharia had eaten a solid punch earlier and came out mostly unaffected. Why was he so keen on keeping his distance? Was he hoping to tire Ethan out? Was he stalling? Considering how easy he’d brushed off that hit, Ethan thought he was dealing with a close-ranged combatant but so far, the man was keeping his distance.

Ethan's eyes flitted to the glittering pink and purple dust Zacharia was leaving in his wake. Was that poison? Was it something like the voice that had messed with his thoughts earlier?

He observed the man's flight pattern as he shot a few pressurized [Water Jets] in his direction, shrugging off the occasional darts. Zacharia was good—too good at evasion. He anticipated every direct attack, always angling down and to the left when pressured. Always seeking the low ground when cornered.

Alright then. Let’s try another angle, Ethan thought, and with a wave of his hand, he sent the first of the new fireballs at the smirking Zacharia. The man scoffed, the nimbus behind his wing shining as he reached to dispel the fireball again, right as the two others flew out, homing on the man. Ethan saw him angle himself to fly low and with a grunt, a horizontal wall of bright flames cut the man off. Before he could adjust, four more were summoned in quick succession next, and the effort made the corners of Ethan’s eyes darken as his spirit screamed at the strain.

If it hadn’t for [Emberborn Heart], the tactic would have already mana-exhausted him but as things were, he could keep going. He just couldn’t afford to pull that trick again—not that it’d work without the element of surprise—and hopefully, he wouldn’t have. Because it hit his target dead-center.

With a beat of his wings, Ethan flew toward the deflagration. He wasn’t letting Zacharia recover and deep in his chest, he knew things wouldn’t be so simple. The man was tricky and frankly, even though his fireballs exploded close to their target—if not directly on—he wasn’t sure what he was about to find.

With the lance in his hand, he aimed at the shape he could see through the dissipating flames, and his eyes widened when the full form of Zacharia became visible.

Smoke was drifting off of him but… he really wasn’t that injured. His face was almost serene, and something about him made a shiver run down Ethan’s spine before he realized what he was feeling.

Zenith state. Zacharia had used his own Prime Manifestation to stave off most of the explosion.

Did he use his own? Was it something defensive? The explosions had probably taken their toll on his reserve, and Ethan could take a couple of hits still, so he opted to save up on the precious trump card for now.

With a burst of mana, Ethan accelerated, lance already glowing with an explosive charge and an instant later, the point stabbed into—

The world stilled as Ethan watched in disbelief as the tip of his lance slid off of the man’s stomach, and his momentum winked out as the purple and pink dust suddenly grew solid around his limb. A beat later, a set of sharp claws blurred, aiming at his heart, but Ethan twisted barely in time, and the needle-thin claws cut into his left shoulder’s scales like a knife through wet paper as the man’s voice reached his ears.

“You didn’t think it’d be that easy, did you?” the voice buzzed, mocking, pulling his arm for another strike, sharp teeth glinting in a furious sneer.

In response, Ethan’s surprised expression relaxed, and he smiled, blood streaking down his scales. Wrenching his right arm out of the glittery trap, he dismissed the lance and caught the man’s wrist with his own Prime Manifestation, the man’s magic resisting him as much as a cobweb would have. His wound closed up with an expensive pulse of [Heal], and finally, he answered. “You didn’t think you were the only one with a trick under their sleeve, did you?”