Ryan did not see Sorin coming. He was fast – faster than a man his size should be.
The first punch.
Sorin's fist struck an ice shield that Ryan formed on his left arm at the last moment. But the shield shattered like glass. The punch was incredibly heavy – heavy as a boulder.
Ice shards flew in all directions. Ryan staggered backward, feeling a vibration in the bones of his left arm.
The second punch.
Sorin did not wait. He lunged again. This time, Ryan was ready. He ducked under the punch, and a sharp ice shard shot from his right hand toward Sorin's chest.
But Sorin did not even try to dodge.
The shard struck his chest plate – but it did not penetrate. Instead, it shattered as if it had hit solid rock.
The earth was enhancing his body. Making him heavier, stronger, harder.
Sorin raised his leg and kicked Ryan in the stomach. Ryan could not dodge – it was too fast. He felt as if a boulder had struck him.
Ryan flew backward, crashing into the wooden wall. He heard the wood crack under his weight. He fell to the ground, gasping, nauseous.
Lyana shouted involuntarily.
"Sorin stop!"
Soren looked at her but said nothing,he had orders and therefore could not obey her.
Then he turned his gaze back to Ryan.
Ryan rose slowly. Blood on his lip from the kick. His left hand was trembling.
He understood now: he could not face Sorin head-on. Every punch from Sorin was like rock. And all of Ryan's ice shattered against his enhanced body.
Ryan whispered to himself,
"If you are a mountain...then I will make you fall."
Ryan raised both hands together. Not to form a shard or a rod. But to pump the spark in his body into the ground.
But raising his hands was merely a distraction,the ice didn't come out of his hands.It came from his feet.
Ice spread from beneath his boots like a frozen river. Fast. Violent. It covered the entire wooden floor in seconds. The wood creaked under the weight of the ice. Cold filled the small room.
Everyone's feet froze in place.
Lyana gasped. She looked down – her boots were embedded in the ice. She could not move her feet.
Lena too. She was frozen in place, her knife still in her hand, but she could not move.
Ren – she was standing near Lyana. The ice reached her feet suddenly. She cried out in fear: "What is this?!" She tried to move her feet but could not. She was frightened, trembling.
As for Ella – she was still sitting in the corner, a little away from the center of the ice. When the ice reached her feet... it stopped. As if Ryan – despite his pain and exhausted rage – had stopped the ice before it touched her.
He did not want to hurt her. He did not want her to be more afraid.
No one noticed this detail. Everyone was preoccupied with the ice and the shock.
Except Lyana. She saw that Ella's feet were on dry ground. She looked at Ryan.
Sorin looked down. Ice covered his boots up to his ankles. He shook his right foot. The brown veins flared. The ice cracked and shattered.
He freed his right foot. Then his left. Easily. As if the ice were nothing but dry dust.
he asked in a deep voice.
"Are you done?"
Ryan did not answer.
He drew his sword. Then he slid on the ice he had created. He did not walk. He slid like a wasp – his left hand behind him for balance, his right hand gripping the sword.
He circled Sorin once. Twice. Three times. Fast.
Sorin tried to follow him with his eyes, but his enhanced body was heavy. He was strong but slow.
Then Ryan struck. The sword was not aimed at Sorin's chest – but at his right shoulder, where the armor was lighter, where the skin was exposed beneath the shoulder joint.
Sorin dodged – but not completely. The sword cut through his leather armor and sliced the flesh of his shoulder. Red blood ran down his arm.
Sorin growled. But he did not scream. He looked at his wound. "The first to hurt me in years..."
But Sorin did not wait. His right punch – his injured arm – shot toward Ryan's stomach at a speed that should not be possible for a wounded man.
Ryan saw the punch coming. He raised his sword to block – but the punch was too heavy.
Sorin's fist struck the flat of the sword. The fist did not pierce the blade, but the force of the punch transferred through the sword into Ryan's body.
Ryan flew backward. He crashed into the wooden wall with tremendous force – he heard the wood crack and break behind his back.
He fell to the ground. His sword flew from his hand. Fresh blood ran from his other shoulder. He tried to get up. He could not.
He was gasping. His stomach hurt. His back hurt. His shoulder was bleeding.
But he was still alive.
Lyana shouted. Her voice pierced the silence.
"Enough!"
But Sorin did not lower his fist. The brown veins were still flaring.
"I cannot, my lady. The king's orders are not open to interpretation."
He took a step toward Rayan.
Lyana tried to step between them, but Lena grabbed her arm.
"Stay back, my lady."
Ryan was on the ground, gasping. He saw Lyana trying to protect him. He saw Sorin determined to kill him. He knew he would not survive if he stayed here.
He thought quickly: 'How do I distract him?'
He looked at Lyana.
Then he knew.