Chapter 32: 32 – Cross-counter

“Forfeit or your knee goes,” he seethed, taking hold of her kneecap. As if an addendum, he muttered “Cloud-scattering Sacred Breath…” to himself, taking in another sharp inhalation. She knew he would be able to maim her well before she could take a proper breath, that feeling of impending danger screeched in the back of her head like a wild beast. The world briefly slowed to a crawl as her mind rushed, her eyes locked to his. 

Zelsys dug as deep as she could, exhaling every last wisp of Fog she had left and hoping it would render her upward kick to his head fast enough to get him off her. His head whipped to the left, and the grin vanished from his face as his fingers slipped from the fabric of her pants.

A sharp breath, rolling to the right, then up to her feet in a wide stance. His stomping boot threw up dust where she had laid moments prior as he quickly handsprung back to his feet, flowing after her in that low stance like his body was the head of a giant snake, his hands the fangs. 

Just then, she realized. If he wanted to fight like a beast, then it would only be appropriate to treat him as one. “Come on! Come at me!” she mocked much in the same way she had mocked the rot-bear, grinning ear to ear as she sidestepped his charge with a larger exhalation, moving just barely out of his reach and landing securely on her feet. Fury filled his features in a split-second and he redoubled his pursuit, turning on a dime.

Mid-turn, he was as open as he would get, and Zelsys saw the opportunity clear as day. She stepped forward as if she were going to punch him again, placing her weight on the heel of her left so it could act as a pivot point. When his raging face turned to a grin, she knew she had him. “Like an open book,” she inwardly chuckled to herself.

A twist on her heel and an exhalation, raising her right leg into a kick straight to his chest. His ribs against her heel, she felt them bending under the force as she sent him careening across the cobbles again. Halxian slid over the ground, eventually brought to a stop by the foot of a man in the audience. He laid there motionless for a few seconds, until he struggled to his feet, retching and puking blood.

The boy struggled to take a breath, and he did - but it wasn’t an explosive one, it wasn’t a breath of Fog. It was a wheezing inhalation of one who had the breath completely knocked out of them and didn’t know how to regain it. “Wghr…” he tried to speak, only to spit out a tooth.

Halxian’s left eye twitched, his face twisted into uncontrolled rage. He took an implosive breath, and without any regard for his own safety charged Zelsys in an erratic dance of punches and claw-like swipes of his immaculately manicured fingers. There was little to no technique or consideration in his assault, his strikes had long wind-ups that she had no issue reading and countering.

She managed to dodge the first two strikes, but he slipped past her guard with a low gut-punch. A full-force elbow strike to his forearm forced the boy back, his arm bending under the force like a branch in the wind. Three consecutive punches, she blocked with her forearms. Halxian swiped at her, which she answered with a light uppercut to his wrist. He wound back, grunting in pain as he unleashed a right jab. A slight movement of the head to avoid the strike, whilst cross-countering with a right-handed jab of her own, exhaling as she did. He ducked under the jab long before it would have struck, well before she had committed. She turned it to a slightly downward right hook.

Her fist, his temple.

The young man spun around and fell to the ground trailing a spiral of Fog, having lost consciousness. Still riding the body high of combat Zelsys stepped towards him, oblivious to how this all must’ve looked to the bystanders.

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To the bystanders, the fight was more of a violent light-show than a duel, a dance whose lows were higher than any mundane fistfight’s highs, and whose highs were visual overload to the vast majority of those watching.

Makhus caught pieces of it all and managed to even recognize individual moves, but his eyes were confused by the ribbons of Fog that obscured everything. Even with her Homunculus Eye Zefaris had to pay close attention, lest she lose track of what was happening. And Sigmund… He didn’t even try to keep track of the fight, entirely content to be just like the other bystanders. Even still, he had a good idea of the general course of the duel from beginning to end.

It was obvious the audience that had gathered expected some sort of flashy technique to end off the fight, much like it often happened in choreographed martial arts shows during festivals. Perhaps that subversion of their expectations was part of what made the simple right hook knockout so impactful, a sudden wave of silence spreading through the crowd as the young beast-hunter spun in place and fell to the ground.

The silence grew into a discordant choir when the bronze-skinned amazon took a step towards her unconscious opponent, her eyes gleaming like those of a predatory beast and her face contorted into the snarl of one. A few even called out to her to stop when she ducked down and reached for his face whilst Fog slowly poured from her half-open mouth, but none dared intervene, waiting with bated breath for what she would do.

Surely, she had been consumed by bloodlust over the boy’s insult of her honor. 

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Her body still coursing with adrenaline and who-knew-what else as she began the descent from the peak of that exhilarated battle-trance, Zelsys thought it would only be a good idea to make sure she hadn’t done something worse than knock Halxian out.

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