The Fifth Beast (ManxMan Chinese/Celtic Fantasy Story)

Chapter 9

The fight began silently, without neither call nor command. The barbarian drew his sword with his right hand, tossed up the sheath with his left, grabbing it comfortably, and rushed at Niall. So fast that Niall barely had time to accelerate with magic.

Although he did not command lightning bolts from the sky, he had many useful skills in reserve. For example, moving with the speed of lightning.

The sounds became muffled, low, the spectators around froze, barely moving, their mouths gaping, their hands halfway up. Only Cumal's eyes of blue fire were able to follow Niall's movements, for the rest he was too swift.

He easily avoided a blow, not bothering to even draw his sword — otherwise the fight would have ended too quickly. He wanted to play with the barbarian, put him in his place. However, how easily the guy moved, how fast, despite his muscle mass! His curved saber flashed in beautiful arcs through the air, and its movement hardly seemed to be slowed down by Niall's acceleration.

Niall leaned back, moving away from the barbarian's blade, and received a rather sensitive blow from his sheath on the wrist. The barbarian grinned. Niall clenched his teeth, grabbed the sheath, twisted it away from the barbarian's fingers and hit him with it under the knees. It would have been nice to add a lighting charge, but the sheath was made of lacquered wood. No matter, the superhuman strength and speed of the Lord of Lightning was enough.

The barbarian fell flat on his back, arms outspread. Niall slowed down and stood over him, assuming a deliberately bored look. The crowd howled. Cumal applauded. With a small condescending smile, Niall twirled the lacquered sheath in his hands and tossed it aside.

The barbarian grinned even wider and made an impossible leap, like a salmon jumping the rapids with its tail forward, and was on his feet again. While still in the air, he stabbed Niall with his saber, cutting off the sleeve of his hunting cotta. Niall didn't even bother to tie up his sleeves before the fight, not considering the Kirinch a worthy opponent. The blade slid across his arm, ripped open his undershirt, and would have inevitably cut through the skin, drawing the first blood of the fight, if Niall hadn't instinctively cast a shock-armor on his entire arm up to the shoulder. The barbarian, stung by the charge, drew back his saber. The crowd roared. Niall raised his arm, showing that there was no blood, and everyone fell silent.

The barbarian spat and muttered something obviously unflattering. He wasn't smirking anymore.

It was time to end this farce. Niall drew his sword from its sheath and attacked even without accelerating, simply crashing into the barbarian with all the might of the Elemental Lord.

For a while the barbarian held out. He was already breathing hard, time and again wiping sweat from his face. Every now and then he fell on his knee or rolled away from the blow, and his leather pants became dirty. His gorgeous torso was also covered with streaks of dirt, but so far without any blood. The stiletto-like hairpins fell out of the bun at the back of his head, and his jet-black hair spilled down his back.

His eyes burned with hatred. He already understood that he had lost, although the onlookers around him still did not see it and went on cheering him, shouting and waving their arms.

Niall caught the barbarian's saber on his sword. His eyes blazed with white flame, sparks rained from his braid, and a powerful charge went from his hand into the crossed blades. The barbarian flinched and sank to his knees, stunned, and his numb fingers lost their grip on the sword hilt. Niall kicked the barbarian's saber away, smiled triumphantly and drew a bloody line on the barbarian's chest, above one of his pretty dark brown nipples.

He did not expect, of course, that the Kirinches would welcome his victory, but he did not expect such a dead silence either. At least Cumal could have applauded or shouted something nice! Niall looked at his friend and saw that Cumal was looking back at him with open disapproval, annoyance even.

Cumal extinguished the ring of fire, grabbed Niall's arm and dragged him to the horses.

"Let me at least put my sword away," Niall protested.

Truth be told, he wanted to enjoy the sight of the young barbarian on his knees, his long hair falling to the ground. Niall should've lifted his chin and kissed him in front of everyone, branded him the property of the Lord of the Tuatha Dé Danann! Yes, and then he should've bitten his lip hard enough to draw blood. That would be a fitting end to the fight. Pity the thought came to mind too late.

"Don't put it away just yet," Cumal grumbled through his teeth. "Can't say for sure how they will react. Was it not enough for you to win, did you have to humiliate him?"

Niall looked over his shoulder. The red-haired giant offered his hand, but the young barbarian pushed it away and rose to his feet. His warriors huddled around him, some grabbed their swords hilts. The barbarian flashed an angry glance at the Tuatha Dé and said something quietly, but unmistakably threatening.

"Is he swearing revenge?" Niall chuckled.

"He's promising you two will meet again. Yeah, no doubt you'll meet again, Airenn is not that big. Blast you to Anghaine, Niall Mac Nechtan, are you coming or not? Not enough entertainment for one evening? Maybe you are waiting for him to take off his pants and bend over for you right here, right now?

Niall laughed as he mounted his horse. Of course, that would've been nice. Didn't have to be in public, could be somewhere in private, with a bed. Hу was excited by the fight, his blood was running faster and hotter, and lightning was shooting down his spine, ending in his groin. Sparks were still falling from his braid.

As soon as they were under the roof of Da Derga Mansion, he showered Cumal with hot kisses. His friend, however, instead of responding with the same passion, rudely pushed him away.

"Boor! Did you catсh it from Daire, or what? I am not turned on by dirt and blood!"

"I just taught these barbarians a lesson in respect for the Elemental Lords. You flirt too much with mortals instead of showing them the true power of the Tuatha Dé Danann. Rather than drink with them some swill in a seedy tavern, you should have burned that tavern to the ground, preferably with someone still inside. Only then they would show you all due respect. Maybe they would even invite you to their capital at last. The barbarians understand only strength."

Cumal sighed and shook his head. "I have no words, Niall Mac Nechtan, to express how disgusting you are at this moment. You will sleep alone tonight."

And he rushed off to his room, furious as a cat.

Niall went to the bedroom assigned to him, which he had not even intended to use before, and threw himself on the bed, also rather annoyed and angry. For a moment, he considered taking Sencha to bed, at last. No, in this state, unable to contain his magic, he would simply kill the boy. He sent Sencha to sleep in the servants' quarters and stood for a long time before the open window, in the cold draft, until his anger subsided. But it didn't cool down completely.

The firewater and the fury of the fight still boiled in his blood.

Still he saw with his mind's eye the kneeling figure with hair falling to the ground, and a streak of blood above the left nipple.