The crimson pickaxe-like weapon trembled as Quies struggled to picture its shape and form. It was a miracle that he was able to form a tip sharp enough to crack through the stone shell of the golem. He could feel his mind begin to ache—as if a tight band was constricting around the flesh of his brain.
'Did I… hup!'
Not wasting any more unnecessary time, Quies hooked his foot inside a crevice of the golem's torso and hoisted himself up and onto its shoulder. By now, it was fully upright.
'Did I really… overexert myself that much?'
Quies spoke in between pangs of aching pain. He would need to be more conservative with his use of his blood flow technique. His body swayed as the golem's life force adjusted its grasp on the fragmented stones—its white eyes glowing as furiously as ever. However, it couldn't stare directly as Quies due to the rigid nature of its stone body.
When it came to blood manipulation, the crimson blade was the most complex shape he could form. He was able to sustain its rigidity and structure because he was well versed enough with the feeling and weight of an actual sword.
Even then, the first time he conjured his signature crimson blade, he was only able to sustain it for a few moments—a short walk to behead the guard.
He remembered that moment very clearly.
'One more!'
He heaved the crimson pick up into the air. Suddenly, the golem began to move, slightly throwing him off balance. Nevertheless-
Crack!
His hesitant weapon was still able to drive deep into the golem's head—sending a net of fractures and cracks across its rigid body. Despite the damage he had done to it, Quies still expected the golem's invisible force to hold its fragments together…
But this time—this single instance—it couldn't. At least, not all of the fragments.
The smaller sized fragments of the broken stone golem toppled downwards onto the emerald blades of grass. The sharper ones pierced into the acid-washed soil beneath like splinters to skin.
'Never been proven wrong…'
Brute force, when enough is given, usually does work out.
But then again, Quies didn't know how long he could keep this up. After this second—techically third—strike, he had to dismiss the rigid shape of the blood pick—returning to a formless blob which gravitated and clung to his palm.
He also recalled the blood that had seeped within the golem's cracks—the ones that had come from the blood javelins he had sent earlier. He would need all the blood he can get, and it would just be a waste to leave them there.
He could feel the tension on his mind begin to loosen as his blood enhancement surged to mend his actively dismantling mental state.
All the while, the golem continued to move… was it moving?
Forward? No. Backwards? To the sides? No…
'Hold on-'
It was then that Quies figured out the golem wasn't moving anywhere at all. Rather, it was rotating on the axis of its torso and pelvic joint. Its mighty arms rose—sweeping across vast reaches of distance as its rotation speed began to build up.
Quies took a few quick glances around. If he stayed here too long, he'd be caught in its spin and pummeled into-
'Ah, stop it!'
Knees bent and coiled, he launched upwards—escaping the whirlwind of stone before it could build up to become deadly. He rolled awkwardly on the grass as one of his arms coated itself in crimson.
As it spun, even more fragments of stone began to fall off of its rigid and fragmented torso. It was as if it was abandoning self-preservation for the chance to kill the slippery man.
The brightness in its eyes wavered as its rotation grew violent. Its arms tore across vast swaths of emerald grass. The blades broke and tore as stones and other debris flew in and out of the stone whirlwind.
Boom!
It took a mighty step towards Quies as it continued its lethal spin. Any unfortunate structures of nature caught in its path were duly obliterated.
'Come to think of it, the false raven I had destroyed earlier… that was a construct too, wasn't it? If so, what's the difference between that and this hunk of stone?'
The winds lifted and thrown from the golem's deadly gauntlets brushed past Quies as he slowly backed away. He was at a far enough distance from the terrifying golem to where he didn't need to actively run away.
'Surely if I… ah, no, that would be way too difficult. I'll just have to keep brute forcing it—from a distance, if possible. If the raven was able to be, then this thing—at the very least—isn't invincible.'
Quies formed a fist with his blood covered right hand—thumb aching. He extended it in front of him, watching as the coating of crimson was very subtly pulled by a force.
'Hold on… what if…'
He held his hand out for a few moments longer. Externally, it was as if he was completely oblivious to the spinning stone construct of death in front of him.
And he partially was, which wasn't necessarily a good thing either.
His head hurt… a lot.
'That might not be a bad idea. I just need more… ah but it doesn't have any blood… crap.'
He stared at the giant spinning golem in front of him.
'I'll have to make it paper thin.'
As that final thought left the confines of his mind, he violently swung his closed fist across his body—letting it carry his torso backwards. Javelins of crimson—in a smaller batch than last time—flew through the air once more.
Crack!
Thud.
Their lusterless crimson edges pierced through the once scorched stone, sending yet another net of cracks across its already fragmented torso.
Larger and larger pieces of stone began to fall from the mighty golem as its mysterious force struggled to keep it intact. Its furious gaze was on the young bloodrender—steadfast, yet wavering.