Archer x Lancer_I DARE YOU

Chapter 7: First Trial

When Lancer opened his eyes after dark claw-like hands pull away from him, he was relieved to see that they were transported in a room filled with monsters, rather than something more inconvenient than that. (^^ Bedwum!) The room was wide but much like a giant cube with unstained white walls and barren except for these fleshy residents. There were no other doorways in sight as the portal they utilized closed from behind, sucking in the scent of the other dusty room.

Lancer felt Archer loosen his grip from his wrist, which has brought a devastating wave to his despair. He can't help but think his emotions are getting a little too ridiculous for his liking. He is actually crushing like some sort of little girl!

But wait monsters? Oh, they can handle them. Pieces of cake waiting to be eaten. Lancer eyed the first to challenge him, a monster that looked like rotting wood twisting together just as while smoking from it's obsidian dusted skin, outlines of runes into the air, faced them; at least, that was what it looked like to be doing. These weren't things that existed in the real world, but more of relics of the past and something the demi-god has familiarized with during encounters with dark mages.

A ticking sound radiated from outside of the room, muffled. They were both correct on the assumption of a time-limit. Naturally, Lancer wasted no time leaping up into the center of the field for the purpose defeating this place and getting away from Archer.

At mid-air, he thrusted his spear into a tall monstrosity and grabbed hold, rotating his body at the pole, kicking off nearby fiends and swinging himself while throwing the stabbed monster into an approaching cluster that caused them to topple like bowling pins. Quickly at landing, he had disposed of three more monsters. His halberd flashed the same red dripping bright from the wounds gaping on the monsters he slashed earlier.

They almost all looked the same except that they took the shape but not the form of living creatures such as animals or in between, as abstract abominations with red linings and insignia where necromancy was controlling them. While he was busy with slashing the fiends that assault him, he saw a flash of Archer between a narrow gap between two monsters aiming to crush him and all too eager. Cuts of blade on skin and pops of explosion around Lancer and he was aware of what was happening currently.

Archer was quickly disposing of them like domino with a volley of arrows; switching from his arrows and unlimited traced blades. Lancer smiled, taking on the challenge for there was no such thing as losing to his arch nemesis. But during the duration of the battle, he watched Archer fight and could not deny the man was graceful in battle and almost perfect with his timing and prowess of inflicting critical damage to their nerves, that he learned how to tell them more easily.

One time, their eyes met and there was the slightest of vulnerability before they tore it away with their proud warrior hearts and the thought to 'not get distracted while in battle' especially 'not by admiring the one whose number of kills is gaining rapidly over the other'.

Together, they had disposed of the monsters altogether that are scattered across the white plane with red blossoming pools beneath them to taint the perfect whiteness of the trap room. From the right, a thick black line appeared and stretched into a door. The swirling sound of wind emanates from it, as the monsters dissolve into the floor.

Lancer landed a hand on Archer's shoulder, grinning behind him. His lance clinked when slid across his shoulder guard and rested on a broad shoulder. "I know I killed ten more than you."

Archer lifted his chin and mocked him with a flat tone. "Cockiness is always your primary trademark. I killed more than you did."

"Admit you lost already," Lancer smiled, looming his face closer to Archer's.

Like the proud man with eyes that look down on everything as inferior, Archer replied sarcastically, "Don't get ahead of yourself."

Lancer gave up, rolling his eyes and taking away his hand. "Think what you want."

He was only joking he killed ten more because miraculously, they killed an equal number and neither side would admit to a draw because they were quite tired with those results. Lancer decided to boost his speed the next time.

"But don't you think that was a little to easy to handle?" Lancer told Archer, narrowing his eyes at the gaping square hole ready to swallow them and transport them to the next trap. For now, the ticking sound had ceased. What was worrying Lancer right now was the unpredictability of the witch and refined control over destructive and cursive magic. He had never warmed up to those kind of people in the first place.

Archer didn't readily reply, staring pensively at the same thing, the door.

"Was it too much for you Lancer?" He smiled-sarcastic as always-as they walked towards the door.

Lancer tossed his head to a side, "It wasn't even close to a warm-up."

"Warm-up..." Archer muttered, his searing gaze cooled to a slate of blank and absent presence. His eyes are hollowed by far-away thoughts and this was nothing akin to him, to ponder on a word like that...

"What are you even talking about?!" Lancer cried out, words had just popped out of his mind and flushed embarrassment

Archer tipped his head up, realizing his mind slip-off. But Lancer noticed he was again acting on strange, covering his mouth and contorting his face into distress. They had made eye contact long enough to see the glazed null clear with prohibition of emotions.

For now, a sort of depression staged between them, had strangely caused them both to fall silent and refrain at staring at the other man's reddened face as they held hands again to avail transport to the succeeding room into the second trial.