Tycondrius and Notaku watched Chieftain Yanaba leapt off of her high rock, lashing out with long and difficult-to-predict swipes of her chain-daggers.
It was... as Tycon expected.
He was a Gold-Rank, himself... however, the half-step Ancient was several times his age. With that advantage, she'd reached a level of speed and agility far beyond his own.
...In as few as a hundred more years, she might even reach Adamantine-Rank.
pαndα noνɐ1,сoМ Tycon was glad he fought with a giant metal bear instead of the Elven Chieftain. Though he had the assistance of Beatrice, the force behind even one of the cackling woman's chain-strikes was enough to severely damage Talks-With-Fire's hull.
Notaku shook his head, "(Venerable Ancient he may be, my sister's attacks will not cease 'lest her foe tastes defeat.)"
"That's... rather annoying," Tycon frowned, "(Will they fight for suns, then?)"
"(Your meaning?)" Notaku crossed his thick arms.
Tycon pointed over to the two combatants, "(The Ancient known as King ignores the chains like water against smooth river stones.)"
The Elven tongue was... tiresome, but Notaku immediately understood.
The elf's face began to twist more and more as he watched the fight... "(Warrior Tycondrius...)"
"Yes?"
"(This humble warrior would ask for more wine.)"
"Hm? Oh, sure," Tycon flicked his wrist, resummoning the wine-skin and passing it to the gentleman.
"Eat this, mother-F*CKER!!!" Yanaba shouted, solidified mana-spikes of rock shooting past her even as she continued her onslaught of attacks.
King danced and flipped to dodge spell and dagger, both, suffering no inconvenience.
"Thy words are of... disrespect," He swept back his long hair with his offhand before pointing his palm forward, "⌈Gentle Summer Breeze⌋."
Yanaba halted her attacks, crossing her arms over her chest and face a blink before being struck by an invisible force.
She flipped backwards and stabbed her daggers into the hard-packed dirt to stop her momentum.
"Keep it up, C*CKSUCKER, and I'mma stretch out that *SSHOLE enough to jam your stupid F*CKIN' head in there!" She stood up and made an obscene gesture with both of her hands, "FFFF*CK YOU!!"
Tycon coughed into a closed fist, "(Growling-Bear... You say you do not understand?)"
Notaku nodded, "(My sister is a gentle woman of kindness, virtue, and nobility. With her great mastery of the common tongue, few in our tribe have felt the need to learn it.)"
Tycon quietly closed his eyes and took a breath. While he initially wished to provide a translation for Notaku's benefit, that... was no longer a welcome proposition.
"Hrmm," Notaku grunted... "(The venerable Ancient edges close to defeat. ⌈Ebon Rock Tomb⌋ is my sister's most powerful attack.)"
Tycon opened an eye. Yanaba had disappeared... and so had King. In the Ancient's place was a black, jagged rock formation a bit larger than the elf.
"(Growling-Bear?)" He raised an eyebrow, "(Why do you make such a face?)"
"(Once... I have suffered this attack,)" The elf sighed... "(Even with the blessing of my Bone Mask, I was rendered immobile for fourteen suns.)"
"Empty night," Tycon felt his eye twitch, "(Why would she do that?)"
"(I-- ah... In my foolishness, I broke a jar of her lavender-scented facial cream.)"
...So he deserved it.
Tycon was relieved that the woman operated, at least, on base logic.
The infuriated Elven Chieftain burst out of the sands, rocketing at a ludicrous speed towards the black rock.
"FUUUUUUUUCK!!!! YOUUUUUUUU!!! BEEEEE-AAAATCHHHHHHHHH!!!!" She screamed as her tiny fist shattered the stone. As it broke apart, King was sent hurtling backwards, bouncing along the uneven ground.
"(Your sister...)" Tycon raised his chin... "(She angers easily.)"
"Ah?" Notaku raised his heavy brows in surprise, "(How did you know?)"
An eruption of sand appeared at the whereabouts of the Ancient. He had recovered, standing tall and proud in a perfect circle cleared of debris by his aura-burst.
Tycon took slight vindictive pleasure in the fact that the finer grains of sand would still permeate that fellow's clothing.
"Seldom have I met with a Shaman so gifted," King's eyes glowed, "Despite the flagrant disrespect thou hast shown me, Sapling... I offer thee the chance to surrender. Show thy deference and I shalt forgive thy slights."
Tycon pursed his lips.
The thought crossed his mind that... King was perhaps being *too* lenient. The ability to grant mercy was the right of the strong... and thus far, the gap shown between the two's abilities was not so large.
"Not gonna happen, bucko," Yanaba rolled her eyes as she walked towards the Ancient, casually whirling the chain-dagger on her left. "I respect my elders as much as the next elf, but if you are who I think you are... you shouldn't be here... *Sir*."
"Oh?" King's eyes shone with an oddly cool light, "Thou... art *not* one of my direct descendents... Thy eyes shine with a different light.
"Still..." The braggart spun his body around, his blades whistling through the air as he flourished them, "Thou must realize, Sapling, that this King has yet to act."
"Yeah, uh-huh?" The Chieftain woman shrugged, "But that's because I-- oh, f*ck me."
A loud explosion sent a splash of sand at Tycon and his Elven companion, even at the distance they were watching. Tycon wiped his eyes and calmly spat out the debris in his mouth while shaking his head, "Ugh."
Faster than he could follow, King had closed with Yanaba, and a swift barrage of sword and fist strikes forced her into a frenzied defense.
Tycon... wished he wasn't surprised.
In a regular clash between two Metal-Ranked adventurers, each combatant kept a few abilities hidden to conserve their mana-- among other reasons. From how fast the Ancient was attacking, however, he hadn't even shown Yanaba half his potential.
King was faster than Tycon thought was possible...
Further... judging by the dirt trails under Yanaba's feet from how far she was being pushed back, he was not sacrificing power for speed.
That man was not a mere Gold-Rank.
The Elven Ancient that called himself King was... Half-Step Adamantine.
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