Chapter 136: Chaos and Flow

The Collector listened to this request and determined the efficiency of acquiescing to it. Time was of essence right now, for the Collector knew not whether dwarven reinforcements would appear.

Yet, simulated calculations proved that reinforcements, though they likely would arrive, would do so slowly. The fleet had been utterly cut off from all communications, and it would take an extended period of time for their absence to be noted.

Judging from calculations extrapolated by the level of messaging technology they likely had and their engine and thruster capacities for their aircraft, the Collector estimated it still possessed three days before any real external dwarven presence would be noted.

What was difficult to consider, however, was that when the dwarven absence was made known among their kind, it was not only their kind that would respond, but also that this information would be disseminated among other tinkering variants such as the humans.

The Collector had to leave this area and cross the Rift before then.

Yet, before that time, the Collector had significant time to assess its new capabilities which included some level of further experimentation with its Higher Calling ability and its recovered adaptation to create drones.

And beyond that, the Collector now had to consider the needs of the swarm, particularly with the development of the two elite units now having their own minds. There was the flash of pride in their eyes, and so too did this pride show with the carrier unit.

Breaking off an engagement here would only further resentment between the units, for the desire to vie for pack supremacy was one the Collector was familiar with as it being a primal part of evolutionary development, though the Collector itself had never engaged in such for the Collective was a Hivemind wherein all hierarchical structure was permanently set and never questioned.

"I will allow it," stated the Collector. It was also curious of the newfound battle capabilities of the goblins now that they were infused with the Breath of Life. In addition, the goblin elites, with their own minds, could also observe more strategic usage of their physical skills.

It was apparent that the elites possessed a great deal more experience in wielding their bodies than did the carrier unit. How that difference was expressed the Collector was also curious of.

The rest of the swarm were beginning to arise as well, and the Collector moved to organize them and speak to them such that they were not confused.

Five minutes later, and the Collector had an entire swarm of goblins bowing before it, proclaiming it as a deity. The elites and the elder hailed the Collector specifically as of the blood of Gob and a 'Sovran'. As to what that truly meant, the Collector would ascertain later.

For now, after having calmed from the novelty of being pulled from death, the goblin swarm crowded around in a ring with the elite united Goromir and the carrier unit Thokk in the center, roaring and cheering on for a duel.

The fall of Grain raged around two elites as they circled each other tentatively.

Thokk was tense, pale white lips curled back in a half snarl as he kept his body tensed up.

Meanwhile, Goromir moved with an air of ease, his steps light and casual about the snow, his body swaying and his breathing even with a smile on his face, almost as if he was playing a game.

Of the two, Thokk was physically far larger and more imposing, being approximately eleven kilograms heavier and a head taller. In terms of magical energy levels, they were around equal, but with that being equal, Thokk's physical advantage would grant him considerable leeway.

A larger frame, thicker bones, and stronger, denser muscles from being born and adapted in this harsh environment would grant Thokk more resilience and striking strength.

Goromir, however, was obviously more well versed in the martial movement of his body, to the degree that he exuded complete confidence.

The elder presided over the circle, holding his wooden supporting staff in the air. Behind him, the Collector stood, observing.

"A proper duel is one the likes of that has never been seen among this generation of Gob," said the elder, wrinkled hands visibly shaking with excitement. "The rules…ah, they escape me."

Kandak spoke out from beside the elder. The elite's arms were crossed as he peered at the battle with rather disinterested eyes. "It is simple.

A duel among those of the same flesh line, especially that of the Elite, will fight with all that is allowed to them. They will fight with the resolve to kill, though death shall not be encouraged. As weapons have not been agreed upon, they will be forbidden, though that which is in the environment is fair game."

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Kandak scanned the empty snowy lands around him. "Though there is not much to use regardless."

"Yes, yes," nodded the elder, remembering. "That is it. Ah, to hear tales of duels such as this and to hear them once more. A true marvel! Now then, fight! Fight and tear each other apart!"

"Battle to your utmost limits," reaffirmed the Collector. "By being bound to me through the life crystals that nourish your cells, I may charge these cells with my magical energy and simulate accelerated cellular restoration.

Thus, so long as you maintain proximity to me, injuries shall be of no concern."

"Hear that?" said Goromir. He flashed a fanged grin to Thokk. "We can fight to our heart's content. No excuses now, eh?"

Thokk beat his chest with his fist. "I will win! Prove to Sovnar I am still leader!"

Goromor pointed to Thokk's head, where twin blue tendrils extended out in a dreadlock – the sign of his connection with the Collector. "You are blessed by the Sovnar. But that is because the Sovnar has not had better, more suitable elites to choose from."

"Enough talk!" said Thokk. "I show you power not with words, but with fists."

"A language I am familiar with. Then get on with it. Show me what you have to offer." Goromir waved Thokk forwards with one of his hands.

Thokk charged forwards, powering his legs with magical energy that sent him surging ahead. The color of Thokk's mana was of red chaos like the Collector, so his preferred style of combat would likely focus on explosive bursts of powerful movement and blows.

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A circle of snow crashed out from Thokk's charge, and it was only when Thokk was right upon Goromir that the snow was making its way back down to the ground at gravity's behest.

With a roar, Thokk sent a double punch with his two right arms towards Goromir.

Goromir saw the punches coming towards him and swayed backwards, dodging the attack. The wind pressure from Thokk's dual punches sent Grain particles flying away, and he did not let up the attack, using his two other arms to shoot out two more wild punches.

Goromir bobbed backwards, weaving his head from side to side to let each fist sail right by without hitting anything.

Thokk grunted and began to unleash a mighty flurry of blows with his four arms, and to the average human observer, the rush would have been a blur of flashing white as Thokk's arms shot out at rapidfire pace.

But Goromir swayed back, using precise head movement to evade head strikes and side stepping body blows with complete ease. The elite's movements were extremely fluid, and magical energy flowed through his body in an aura of green, indicating a mana affinity of Flow that was suited for balanced, fluid combat.

Goromir was like living water, his entire body coordinated and moving with a precise, efficient fluidity that let him evade attacks at the last moment. This was compounded by his superb flexibility and agility, and as Thokk's red chaos mana surged, making his rush of punches even faster and wilder, Goromir adapted.

At first, when the rush intensified, a few scratches appeared on Goromir's face, chest, and arms as he struggled to keep up with the sudden burst of power, but he adapted, using his agility to the fullest extent now. He twirled around to evade strong blows, swayed backwards almost ninety degrees to avoid two mighty haymakers, and pushed himself with a handstand to soar back into the air and make distance.

When Goromir landed lightly on the snow on the tips of his feet, completely balanced on a single toe, he was left smiling while Thokk huffed and puffed, his muscled barrel chest straining due to the explosively powerful yet inefficiently managed nature of chaos affinity mana.

In terms of battle, if a chaos type mana user did not end a battle quickly or in a short burst of power, then they were left at an increasing disadvantage against fighters with Flow who could regulate their mana far better, albeit with less powerful short term spikes in ability.

"Your wasted movements are uncountable," said Goromir as he eyed Thokk up and down. "You are larger than me. Your flesh has grown used to this land of cold and scarcity. But you have no grace about you. It is known to me now that some time has passed since I and my brother wandered these lands proper."

Goromir shook his head sadly. "It seems the art of Gobeira has not been passed down."

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