The woman charged first, her boots pounding the packed dirt road with rhythmic thuds that sent small sprays of dust curling up around her ankles.
Her sword rose high overhead, the blade catching the late afternoon sun in a single bright flash before it began its downward arc, aimed straight for John's skull.
The air whistled around the steel as it descended, heavy with the scent of oiled metal and the faint tang of sweat rolling off her skin. John stood rooted for half a heartbeat, the only thought cutting through his mind sharp and absurd: why the hell had he not worn a helmet, and why the fuck was she moving so slow. She was barely approaching mach speed, her body a sluggish blur compared to the power surging through his plasma frame, every muscle fiber in her arms straining visibly as the swing built momentum.
He dashed to the side in a flicker of motion, his legs propelling him ten feet laterally faster than thought, the ground barely registering under his boots before he stopped. The sword slammed into empty air where his head had been, the impact vibrating up through her arms and sending a low metallic ring echoing across the open field.
John raised his own blade halfway, the edge already humming with latent heat, ready to carve through her shoulder and end it in one clean stroke.
But he caught himself, forcing the motion to halt. He needed to hold back, draw this out, let the fight stretch long enough for the aura to build, for the weight of his presence to press down on them all like an invisible storm. The longer they danced, the more aura he'd get.
The scene shifted focus to the other nine adventurers clustered near their massive war mounts. The agile-looking elf froze mid-twirl of his curved daggers, the confident smirk sliding off his face as he watched the woman's swing miss by a mile.
His ears twitched once, pupils narrowing to slits, and a visible shudder ran through his lean frame. He leaned close to the figure beside him, voice dropping to a urgent whisper that carried on the breeze.
"Argile… I need you to buff up my speed to the max. This guy is no joke. He had to hold back against Lady Mira. He's a different beast."
Argile, the headless mage draped in flowing robes that shifted with unseen currents, stood perfectly still for a moment, the empty space above his collar glowing faintly with gathered energy. His voice emerged from the air itself, calm and measured despite the chaos unfolding.
"I am charging the incantation now, but we have a better chance if the nine of you charge forward and engage him directly while I complete the rite. Surround him. Force his attention. I will accelerate you beyond limits once the circle is set."
The elf nodded sharply, dropping into a low crouching stance, knees bent, one hand pressed to the dirt for balance. Argile raised what remained of his arms, the robes billowing as power crackled around the empty neck. His voice swelled into a long, resonant prayer that rolled across the battlefield like distant thunder.
"Oh demigod fleet of foot Lerate, I humbly beseech thee in this hour of dire need, grant unto me the swiftness of the wind that races across the endless plains without pause, the velocity of lightning that splits the sky in an instant and leaves no trace, the agility of the mountain goat that leaps from peak to peak without falter or fear, empower my limbs with the speed of the gods themselves so that no foe may touch me or slow my advance, let time slow for all others while I move as a blur of divine grace and precision unmatched, fill my veins with the essence of haste and unyielding momentum, make my steps lighter than air and my strikes faster than thought itself, I offer my devotion and this battle's glory in exchange for thy blessing upon this humble servant, hear my plea and accelerate my form beyond all mortal limits so that victory may be seized in the blink of an eye, in thy name I pray, Lerate, fleet-footed one, accept this cry and bestow upon me the maximum speed buff to TO RAIN HELL ON YOU INGRATE!."
The elf grinned as the prayer finished, the air around him shimmering with raw acceleration. He exploded forward in a streak of motion, now moving at least mach twenty, the wind howling in his wake and tearing small divots from the ground where his feet had been.
John grinned wide, feeling the shift in the air as the elf closed the distance. This one was fast now, a genuine blur that tested the edges of his perception, the kind of speed that would have turned a normal man into red mist before they could blink.
John raised one hand and willed a wall of fire into existence right in the elf's path, flames roaring up from the dirt in a solid curtain ten feet high, heat rolling outward in visible waves that scorched the grass black and filled the air with the sharp smell of burning earth.
The elf was too fast to stop mid-air, momentum carrying him straight through the barrier. Fire licked across his skin and clothes, igniting fabric and hair with a sudden whoosh. He burst out the other side, rolling desperately across the ground, body writhing in agony as flames clung and spread, the scent of seared flesh rising thick and acrid.
John grinned wider, the satisfaction warm in his chest. He was lucky he had not used the writhful agony skill; that would have cooked the elf from the inside out in seconds.
A simple fire wall seemed like a good enough defense for now, surely this would be good enough for all of them, right? The thought had barely formed when a giant hulking muted gray man burst through the flames, shoulders like boulders, legs pumping with raw power.
He wielded two war axes, each one a massive crescent of steel that whistled through the air as he brought them down in a double overhead slam aimed at John's head. The impact cut straight through the outer layer of John's form, the blades sinking deep before passing completely through his plasma body without resistance, the metal heating instantly to glowing orange.
John felt a little scared for the first split second, the closeness of the strike sending a cold spike through his core.
That was a close one, but how the fuck was his body not—
A screen appeared in front of him, glowing blue letters sharp against the chaos. "You are made of strong coupled plasma, you are essentially intangible." John grinned then, the fear vanishing like smoke.
Oh how fun.
He looked back at the burly man, who had stumbled past him and now collapsed to the ground writhing in agony, both axes reduced to nothing but melted hilts in his grip, the rest of the blades liquefied and dripping. The giant's hands blistered and smoked where he had held the superheated remnants, his muted gray skin cracking and peeling from the transferred heat.
John grinned again, standing motionless amid the frenzy while the fight continued around him. He wondered exactly how that worked, the way his plasma form simply let solid matter pass through without harm, the physics of it twisting in his mind like an unsolved puzzle.
But then the woman had the audacity to swing at him again, her sword arcing low this time in a horizontal cut aimed at his midsection, the blade humming with fresh determination.
So annoying.
John swatted her away with the back of his hand, the casual motion carrying the full strength of his frame behind it. She flew backward like a meteor, body tumbling end over end through the air, armor screeching against the wind. She crashed into the ground fifty feet away, the impact carving a giant crater into the dirt road, dust and debris exploding outward in a choking cloud that swallowed her form completely.
John grinned and faced the group again. "Whos Next?"