Raising Wonders

Chapter 6: Shifting. (Part 3)

Mask stood knee deep in snow admiring the selection of trees in front of him. The forest south of Toren was much larger than its northern counterpart and stretched all the way down to the warmer regions. It wasn't as popular a destination due to its distance and the fact that the beasts and monsters that resided along the border were generally more aggressive than the north. The north however was much more dangerous the further you went in and even went so far as to house creatures that could be a match for a true master.

There were two main reasons Mask had chosen to visit the southern forest. The first was precisely because it was less popular, outsiders wouldn't get involved when he would be inevitably attacked. The second was because it was also home to a particularly handy tree. The dark coloured bark stood out from the white snow, and while the three wasn't tall or held many branches, its properties were perfect for training. Dubbed the swordman's swallow, the wood was widely used to test the capability of martial artists.

"Now how exactly should I cut it?" Mask stared at the particularly wide trunk in front of him and with casual ease bent forward as if inspecting it. At that exact moment a cut of green energy cleaved the trunk where his neck had been. Mask turned to face his ambusher, "Thank you, I was just wondering how to properly cut this. It also seems you have quite the nice blade. Very smooth."

Two men faced him, one large and one skinny. Lars Duntoff and Migter Aren. The larger one, Lars, held a cleaver the size of a small man, the metal still steaming from his furious swing. The two looked at Mask confused at his casual behaviour.

Mask continued, "Seeing as you've helped me so far, do you mind helping me carry it into the city as well?"

"Are you an idiot?" Migter spat. "I don't know if what you did was a fluke or what, but we're here to make a message out of you."

"In other words, we're going to flay your corpse and set it out front of the adventurer's guild as a message to those who defy the city lord," Lars laughed.

Mask shook his head, "Hmm that's quite the pickle. You see I quite like staying alive."

"Then you should have joined us instead!" Lars raised his cleaver and swung it down. The tremendous force was even greater than the first swing and scattered the snow as if it were foam. From his blade a vertical line of green energy shot forward, a stunning display of that of the expert level. Mask however simply stepped to the side as the trunk behind him was cleaved again.

"Oh thanks! If you could cut it horizontally again that would make it even easier to carry," Mask mocked him and smiled.

"You little prick!"

"Hold it you fat oaf," Migter stopped him from charging forwards. "We were told he was at the advanced level at best. Rector was right, he's much stronger than that. We work together."

"Fine, as long as it's my blade that cuts him in the end."

Mask sighed, "It would have been nicer if you just fell for the taunt." He drew his sword. "I warn you, I don't fight fairly."

"And neither do we," Migter laughed and made a show of dousing his daggers in a thick green liquid. The two charged down the path Lars had cleaved through the snow.

Lars showed an impressive nimbleness as he bounded through the snow covered ground despite his weight and mass of armour. Migter was much the same but hid behind the man's larger body making it harder for Mask to predict his movements. The first cut was again from Lars as he swung diagonally intent to stop Mask from retreating further into the forest. Mask dodged the outburst of force, trying to make room between them only to be forced to parry a slim thrust of energy that attacked his side. Migter stood with his dagger poised forward. It was a familiar style of fighting known as close distance sniping and key to the Strike martial art.