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Chapter 9 - VIII.Silva Gravis

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VIII.Silva Gravis

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Quintin's sword hung loosely in his grip, as the Lion smiled and released his blade. He took a cautious step back from Olan. The Lion's eye tracked his every movement. That mocking grin still plastered on his face as if he were watching a child play a game.

Quintin didn't think of Olan as invincible, but the fact remained that he was a force too strong, too resilient, and much too experienced. And now, Quintin needed to approach him differently. He had to survive long enough to figure Olan out and find an opening.

In every fight, every opponent revealed their weaknesses through their movement. The way they shifted on their feet. How they balanced. How they struck. But Olan, despite the obvious metal in his body, didn't move like someone weighed down by armor. His stride was unbothered, almost effortless, as he stood his ground.

The problem was, Quintin had barely exchanged blows with him. There hadn't been enough time to analyze his fighting style, and with the kind of raw power Olan possessed, every second counted. Quintin stepped back a little further, trying to distance himself. He knew patience was the key. That he had to wait for Olan to make a mistake with his overconfidence.

Without warning, Olan closed the distance in two strides with his blade swinging down toward Quintin's head. Quintin barely managed to dodge, not expecting him to move so swiftly, but still sidestepped the attack to avoid the impact of the sword.

Quintin countered immediately. He swung with precision at Olan's side, but the Lion simply batted him off, moving with unnatural ease. Quintin's boots dug into the ground, but the force of Olan's folow up strike sent him stumbling back again. He regained his footing quickly, but Olan didn't advance. Instead, he stood there, letting Quintin come at him again.

Quintin didn't hesitate, charging again, this time with a faster, more aggressive strike, his blade aiming for Olan's shoulder. But Olan didn't move an inch. Instead, he simply stepped aside, letting Quintin's sword pass harmlessly through the air before shoving Quintin back with his shoulder.

Quintin staggered, the force of Olan's push sending him sideways in frustration. He quickly adjusted, keeping his distance and eyeing Olan closely, trying to figure out what made him tick. Every time he tried to gain an edge, Olan was there to knock him back! The Lion's strikes were devastatingly powerful and his defense undeniably impenetrable.

Olan finally spoke, his voice booming with mocking amusement, "You're not even worth my time. Shit on my boots," he sneered, "You are a pathetic Fox."

Quintin's teeth ground together, and he tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword. He had to keep moving. Find his opening, but it was then that Olan took a step forward, closing the distance between them. For the first time, Quintin watched his feet and saw the Lion's movement up close. Something shifted in his mind.

Olan's movements were wild. More like an unstoppable force, than the controlled, calculated motions Johanus spoke of the other revenants. His gait wasn't refined, but more akin to a battering ram. Heavy and unrelenting. He didn't rely on footwork or finesse like most fighters. The Lion just plowed through everything in his path, pushing forward with sheer brute strength.

Quintin's mind raced, "This isn't a trained style. Hell, this isn't even a style at all!"

Olan was a walking weapon. He used his body like a shield, absorbing hits and then delivering blows that were designed to crush. His metal-enhanced body made him near invulnerable. And with the kind of strength he possessed, Olan had no need for agility. If fighting were the jungle, then he truly was king. His strength and the hard metal fused onto his bones made him too dangerous.

Quintin felt panic well inside as he began to fully realize that Olan wasn't just strong, he was unstoppable. His body had been reinforced under the armor he already wore with no need to avoid attacks when he could just tank them.

"If he has a brain and a heart, he can be killed," Quintin thought, remembering his father's lesson. He snapped back into focus, panic subsiding as he began to adjust. This time he was moving with greater speed and precision. Looking for a weak spot once again. Anything that he could exploit.

Quintin dashed forward, spinning behind the massive warrior, his sword aiming for a gap in Olan's shin guard. The strike landed and Quintin's sword cut into muscle, just above the joint where Olan's foot met his leg. But Olan's body didn't flinch. Instead, he kicked Quintin away, sending him tumbling across the dirt.

Quintin's breath left him in a sharp gasp. His mind raced as it seemed it was impossible to injure him that way. The metal inside Olan's body was his muscle now. It's what's holding him together, allowing him to perform feats that would break most men. His body was a true fortress after all.

Olan laughed, stepping toward Quintin with surprising speed, in spite of the wound Quintin had caused, "You thought you could take me down by cutting muscle? Those pesky revenant teachings of weakspots in the human body. I'm far from human anymore, little fox," Olan taunted, his eyes gleaming with an animalistic amusement, "It's impossible for you. Accept death, as I have other business here, even if she's a little out of my age range now."

Quintin noted the glace in Selena's direction and pushed himself up, his breathing heavy. The Lion may have broken a rib, but Quintin ignored it. His mind was still racing. Trying to work something out, but he knew time was almost up.

Olan closed the distance again. His eye locked on Quintin as he raised his sword, the golden hilt gleaming against the sunset. Quintin had no choice but to launch another attack. This time, with full confidence, he swung at Olan's chest, knowing this would be his last chance. But Olan didn't block.

Instead, he moved his hand from his sword to catch Quintin's blade once again in his bare hand as a loud clang filled the air, and blood ran down Olan's hand. Quintin's eyes widened as Olan tightened his grip, his bare hand ripping the sword from Quintin completely and punching him in the face with his sword holding fist.

Olan chuckled, watching Quintin's expression shift from shock to disbelief as he sat in the dirt, "Now you can see, fox," Olan said, his voice dripping with contempt as he looked at Quintin's sword, then plunged it into the ground. He sheathed his own blade and approached slowly, "Tell me," Olan said, reaching down and lifting Quintin by the throat with both hands, "Why do you wrap the sword and hide it's standing? Are you that ashamed of your father? Did he die a pathetic death in the end just as you will?"

Quintin's eyes burned with fury, but he could barely breathe. His throat was being crushed. He gritted his teeth, looking Olan directly in the eye, refusing to back down, "My father died fighting. As will you, Lion."

Olan's face twisted into a look of malice as he began closing his grip, "Hah. Shit last words."

Quintin's reached up, tightening his fingers around Olan's arms as the Lion's iron grip squeezed the life from him. His vision blurred, his breath ragged, his muscles burning from lack of air. He struggled at first, trying to pry Olan's hands free, but the revenant's strength was monstrous and unyielding. But then, something shifted.

A power deep within Quintin stirred, awakening like a sleeping beast. It coursed through his limbs, igniting every nerve with raw strength. His grip tightened. Quintin wasn't just trying to escape anymore, but to overpower the Lion.

With a guttural growl, Quintin pressed down on Olan's armored shoulders, his fingers curling into the steel. Olan's smirk faltered. Then came a metallic groan as the golden armor buckled beneath Quintin's hands, bending inward under the immense pressure. Olan winced, his fingers loosening just enough for Quintin to take a sharp gasp of air, but Quintin wasn't finished.

With a roar, he ripped the shoulder plate free, the force tearing away part of Olan's chest armor as well. Half the lion emblem split from his breastplate, falling to the ground with a heavy clang. Olan stumbled backwards, his hand clutching his collarbone and eyes flickering with shock.

For the first time in the fight, the Lion looked unsure. The vibration from the impact had sent a shockwave through to his body, rattling the one thing he thought untouchable, his heart. He exhaled heavily, but then, his lips curled back in a snarl as he steadied himself, "A fucking fluke. That's all it was."

Quintin staggered, his hands shaking, his breath ragged, but he had done it. He had torn through Olan's defenses and exposed him. But now, he was unarmed. Olan realized it, too. The revenant drew his sword once more, his golden hilted blade gleaming with desire for more blood. Quintin's pulse pounded in his ears.

But Quintin could see it. Olan's heart. It was pulsing beneath the linen of his undershirt, exposed just for a moment as the Lion moved. Olan charged in with an aggressive swing of his blade, but Quintin moved in an explosion of speed.

Quintin slid under the Lion's swing, his body ducking beneath the heavy slash that would have cleaved him in two. As he passed beneath Olan, he twisted his body, and with every ounce of his strength, he drove his fist upward. His knuckles collided with Olan's collarbone and the connected mass. A direct strike to the heart of the monster.

Olan's body seized as his eye widened and his breath got caught in his throat. The monstrous revenant and walking fortress, dropped to his knees. His head tilted downward slightly, his chest heaving, struggling to function.

Through labored breaths, Olan let out a low, pained chuckle, "A cunning fox indeed. I…"

But before another word could leave his lips, a blade flashed as Selena appeared from his blinded side. Her face was a mask of cold fury as her dagger plunged into his patch-less eye. Olan jerked as she pulled it back out, a soundless gasp leaving his lips as his body fell forward into the dirt with a small clang. The Lion was dead.

Selena spun to Quintin, her hesitation and fear had subsided. She was happy to rid the world of Olan, "Quintin!" she exclaimed, not completely believing their victory herself as she turned towards him.

He was staggering, his breath short and his expression dazed. She didn't understand why he was so distracted. They had won. Her eyes shifted from his, downward. And then she saw it. Olan's sword.

The golden hilt was sticking out as the blade sat buried deep in Quintin's right side. Quintin followed her gaze, his own eyes widening in realization. He hadn't even felt it before. The adrenaline, the focus on Olan… He hadn't noticed that he didn't fully dodge Olan's last strike.

Selena took a step toward him, reaching out, but Quintin stumbled backward. There was nothing behind him but air. The fighting had taken him to the cliffside of the road.

Selena's eyes widened in horror as Quintin's foot slipped over the edge, his balance lost from the disorientation of it all, "No!" she cried out.

Quintin tried to grab for something, anything, but his fingers met nothing but empty space. Selena lunged, sliding in the dirt, reaching for him, but it was too late. He fell. Quintin vanished over the side, his body disappearing down into the dense forest of Scion below.

Selena froze, staring down into the darkness, waiting, praying to the gods to just hear something. A sound. A cry. Anything. Only silence carried. Her heart pounded as she searched frantically, scanning the rock face for a ledge, a branch, anything he might have grabbed onto. There was no sign of him. Tears welled in her eyes, but she had no time to break down.

The rumble of hooves reached her ears. She quickly turned towards the echoes, spotting soldiers on horseback rounding the corner from the ravanger's camp. Selena had only seconds to make a decision. She glanced at Quintin's horse, then at her own that was cleaved in two. Her eyes landed on Quintin's sword still standing upright in the dirt.

Without another thought, she grabbed the blade, slung her pack over her shoulders, and slapped Quintin's horse causing it to run in the opposite direction of the ravangers. With a final glance toward the scene of bodies above, she slipped over the road's cliff edge, carefully navigating the unstable rock face, and disappearing into the depths of Scion's forest below.

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End Part 8

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⋆༺𓆩The.Fellow𓆪༻⋆

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