Chase sidestepped a green flaming sword, swinging his blade at the other that was about to strike his chest.
He could not die in this strange world, both because the voice would not allow it, and because he refused, which simply made it real.
He knocked the flaming sword out of the constructs hand, and kicked it in the chest.
Then he turned around, swinging his blade in a wide arc, slashing straight through the shoulder of another.
"Stop it... Drop the sword."
The voice said, as the constructs stopped in their tracks.
"Why?"
Chase asked, confused and bewildered.
"Because, you are already a fine swordsman with a very developed sense of combat, it is your affinity and energy that is weakest, you have few arts and they require very specific circumstances to be used affectively. Now drop the sword."
He did as she commanded, letting the blade hit the crimson dirt with a rattle.
"Explain further..."
He asked.
"Ugh fine, you lack creativity is what I am saying, Zephyr was half correct when he told you to be flexible with your combat, but it does not necessarily mean to form different styles of combat for specific situations, it means to apply everything into how you fight. You know it well yourself, there are too many factors in a fight to truly determine the outcome beforehand. So learn how to use everything to your benefit. The environment, the energy of both you and your enemy, the distance, allies, bystanders, positioning, use all of it."
Chase frowned, not really understanding what she was saying.
"Okay let me ask you what you see right now."
Chase glanced around, mentally counting each construct soldier, and guessing the heat at which their flames burned, which just so happened to be hot enough to actually burn his skin from getting too close.
"I see about thirty soldiers, each with very powerful cursed flames, they hurt quite bad when I get too close, I see mounds in the ground where I could get high ground and maybe try to force distanced fights."
The voice seemed to agree.
"Good, now use it and apply it."
Chase nodded and took a deep breath, then he axis twitched to the tallest mound of crimson dirt that he could see.
Summoning flames in his hands the constructs began to move again, this time quicker.
"Use their speed against them, momentum is a key force in most fights. It can change a fight at lightning speed just by gaining the slightest of momentum, but it can also be applied litterly as momentum can carry you forward if used."
Chase nodded again, and flexed his forearms, trying to keep the flames steady in his hands.
Then as the soldiers got close, he reeled back and began to launch balls of fire at the soldiers with little to no intent on where exactly they were supposed to hit.
He continued to fire until they got close, then he summoned more flames to imbue his body, along with his axis energy reserves.
Then he lowered himself into a sprint.
Grabbing one of the soldiers that was knocked back by his flame, he threw him to the ground and turned on another soldier, throwing a punch at its helmet.
His hand rung from both the heat and the resistance of the constructs, but he didn't stop.
Dropping to the ground and kicking out the legs of another, pushed himself back up with a force of axis energy, and kicked another construct back with a powerful strike in the chest.
Then a construct grabbed him from behind, singeing the skin behind his leather tunic.
He lifted his knees up to his chest, and rocked backwards.
Using his weight, the construct lost its grip on him and collapsed.
Chase pushed himself up, and began to concentrate, remembering how Poppy had fought against Hans on the day that Leander had been killed.
'Focus Chase...'
He remembered Barren's words.
Then using the Phoenix Flames, he began to a form a long staff in his hands, but not quite a spear.
"This will work..."
He muttered with ragged breaths.
Then he jumped and twisted his body, knocking back the head of a construct, and swiping down at another before he a landed on top of a third soldier.
Even though everything was burning terribly, he refused to let the pain affect him. His hand was black from holding the flame staff, but he didn't care much.
Standing on the shoulders of a construct, he lowered himself, hanging on barely, and grabbing the soldier by the neck.
Letting flames leak through his arms, he began to overpower the soldier in terms of heat.
Burning away the skull of the construct, he launched himself from its shoulders and began to move the staff as quick as he could, swiping and striking everything that threatened to enter his vicinity.
By the team he finally grew too exhausted to even breathe, all he could see were flaming corpses and the barren sands of the underworld.
"Woah..."
Clapping could be heard from the direction of the castle.
"Good, but we are not done just yet..."