Connor wiped the sweat from his forehead, breathing hard. He's stronger than I expected. This man was forcing him to work for every inch of ground. Normally the people he fought fell quickly—not because they were weak, but because Connor was a naturally talented fighter, especially with blades. That talent was why he was the only dual‑wielder in his family.
Connor lunged forward, extending his arm in a clean, practiced strike meant to end the fight before his opponent recovered from their last exchange. But the man shrank rapidly, compressing into a compact form that slipped under the blade. He countered with a punch, fast and sharp. Connor shifted his weight, letting the blow pass, and trapped the man's arm between his torso and the dagger‑bearing arm.
Before Connor could twist or drive the blade in, to gain an undisputed advantage, the man expanded again, his muscles swelling, bones stretching, and ruining the hold with brute force.
Disengaging Connor looked up at the burly man once more, his looming figure less menacing now that they've been fighting. "Can you choose a body and stick with it?"
Every transformation was an entirely new person. He would go back to a new body, but it was uncertain if any were actually their own.
The man flexed his arms, the muscles rippling along his body.
"Why would I ever do such a thing? That's my greatest advantage."
Connor sighed. "Didn't think so."
This entire fight, his opponent had not stuck to a single form, constantly changing his height, weight, and fighting style. No wonder he was so difficult. Mastering so many bodies so he could fight effectively no matter his form had to be effective against his opponents.
Connor glanced around the hallway, noticing the number of holes and gouges in the walls from his opponent's fists and his own dagger. The holes left from the man were wider than they should have been, no matter how much force was behind them.
He must be fighting for something special if this is the kind of damage he's doing.
"Can I have a name? I would like to remember who it is I'm fighting."
The man glared at him. "Gluttony."
Connor gave a slight nod, acknowledging his opponent, and dashed into battle once more.
Knocking the blade aside and only getting a small cut on his thick forearm, Gluttony began another one of his onslaughts of fists and kicks. Connor avoided as many as he could until he realized he was backed against a wall. Seeing a fist shoot straight at his face, Connor ducked and swung his dagger upwards, hopefully this time to land decent cut.
Not only did the slash miss, Connor also noticed as another decent sized hole was in the wall beside him. He moved along the surface, weaving and narrowly avoiding each swing as dust swirled from every impact. The onslaught didn't slow, Gluttony's mass moved him to the next blow easily, but that was fine. Connor was watching for an opening, using the debris as cover.
Hia moment came an instant later when Gluttony paused to catch their breath. Acting immediately Conner went for the heart, knowing that they would obviously dodge or the blade would cause little damage.
Connor didn't expect both, the blade connected but either due to Gluttony being distracted or Connor being more focused, the blade plunged into their chest and connected with a rib. Before Connor could twist the blade deeper, Gluttony leapt backward, tearing himself free and leaving Connor with the weapon, now slightly chipped from the impact.
Connor allowed himself a brief moment of satisfaction, except for the damage done to the building, Gluttony was the first to take significant damage. The only downside was that Connor had to do more maintenance on his blade later.
Even with Gluttony holding their wounded chest, the fight was not over.
"Give up, you won't be beating me." Connor said rather with a yawn.
Not saying anything, Gluttony lunged forward obviously trying to end the fight as soon as possible. Side stepping the fists Connor raised the dagger, preparing to slash the burly arms. Before the dagger landed however, the man shrank again, bones tightening and muscles thinning. A slender figure stood before him, draped in a dark cloak that hid everything except an innocent pale face of a child with long black hair looked back.
Not letting any of this distract him, Connor lunged forward preparing multiple slashes, after all he now had the reach advantage and planned to use it.
This aggression caught him—her—off guard. They stumbled back this time unable to retaliate. The cloak hid the body movements, so he was unsure of what he was aiming for, but Connor was happy to feel resistance on his dagger, and more than any cloak should give.
Pulling the dagger back and seeing red, Connor knew he had hit something but was not sure where he had cut.
The girl hissed, her body beginning to shift again. Connor had seen these enough times to recognize the moment of vulnerability, a brief moment before Gluttony's form fully changed.
He sprinted forward and threw a punch. His fist connected cleanly, snapping the girl's head to the side. She spat out a tooth and blood as her body swelled and reshaped, returning to the hulking man.
Really liking this form big guy?
Before the transformation was complete, Connor tackled the still changing form of Gluttony, once again taking them by surprise. He took this chance to land a few more blows not cutting as they were bleeding from several lacerations on their arms, a deep gash on their chest, split lips, and the most recent, a long slash along their side. The tackle did little more other than push them back as they now weighed more than they did a moment ago but that what Connor had wanted.
Gluttony raised their hands interlocking their fingers and bringing it down with their full might. At the last moment Connor dashed backwards. This sudden blow caused the floor to fall apart and Gluttony to fall where he was.
The entire time they were fighting, Connor had taken note of a rather weak spot in the floorboards and had continuously forced their engagements in that one spot, weakening the floor.
Of course, the entire fight was weaking the floorboards, but that particular spot was the weakest. He had taken note of it at the beginning of the fight my stepping there and feeling more give.
He jumped down after him, landing on Gluttony's back and rolling with the momentum. As the man struggled to rise, Connor grabbed a knife from a nearby shelf and drove it into Gluttony's back.
They let out a painful yell as the knife missed any important organs, but there was no way that a wound like that could be ignored for long.
Leaving the blade in Gluttony's back Connor walked in front of him and crouched down, watching to see if Gluttony had any fight left. Determining that there was little threat Connor stayed right outside of his reach.
"You got a mangled leg from that rather unsightly fall, and now a blade in your back. Make this easy and surrender." There was an air of indifference in the ay Connor spoke. As if Connor was above this man in every way.
Gluttony let out a groan and looked up at him. "You fight dirty."
Connor slammed his head back into the ground. "Wrong answer." Landing a blow to Gluttony's temple and watching as they went limp. Exhaling, Connor looked at the damage caused by his companion's battle.
Many of the shelves and weapons were knocked over and scattered along the floor. Looking up he noticed a second and larger hole in the floor where the other adversary must have fallen to engage the guards left on the first floor.
Connor couldn't help but notice that the fight between the others had found its way outside, but not before completely ruining the inside of the shop.
Having at least two people who have entered the super plain cannot be a good sign.
The super plain was what the West called the unique abilities that people could manifest. It was often frowned upon when people from the West received said abilities because they were often associated with the East.
The abilities may make the Eastern forces stronger, but not undefeatable. Evident from the one called Gluttony laid out on the ground. Connor was certain that one of his guards could have defeated them. Maybe not as quickly or resourcefully as Connor, but they would have won all the same.
None of the guards in their family were weak, and if they were they were quickly made stronger. Afterall, being weak never helped anyone on the field of battle. It helped that their family was by far the strongest in the Western Alliance as well as having the strongest militia force.
There is a more powerful one nearby. An entire district disappeared in one night, and they supposedly tried to lure me into a trap. Not to mention I couldn't even sense them. An ability that hides presences?
Those types of abilities are always difficult to deal with. Standing up to go assist his guards with whatever situation they found themselves in Connor froze.
Cold sweat slid down Connors back.
He turned slowly, afraid of what he might see.
Standing atop Gluttony's crushed skull was a woman.
She was around Connors own height and had a similar build. She was not wearing any armor nor anything that could be considered as such. No visible weapons either. Just a bright yellow dress, the hem now stained red from stepping on her companion's head. Her deep blue eyes locked onto his.
"You said you wanted to fight an heir, did you not darling? Well, now's your chance. Come at me."
Connor was now sweating bullets. His heart pounding in his chest so loudly he could here it in his ears. Her bloodlust was suffocating.
"Making a lady make the first move? Not very manly, are you?"
With that she lunged forward, not drawing a weapon but not making a fist either. Instead, she simply extended all her fingers together, as if her hand was a spear. Connor barely managed to raise his parrying dagger to deflect her attack, but instead it shattered against her nails which then penetrated his armor.
Not only the armor but also into his flesh, causing Connor to stumble back coughing.
"An heir is quite the leap from a squire, aren't they?" she teased.
She caught Connor glancing down at Gluttony's lifeless body and sneered.
"We have no use for weaklings; your family would rather raise him to become stronger. We got dozens of squires; I'll just get a more proficient one."
She looked up just in time to see a throwing knife flying towards her. She seemed rather amused as she lifted her hand and they both watched as the blade shattered against her palm.
Looking up at him she let a small smile slip, matching her cutesy appearance. She was an anomaly, nothing about her matched the carnage around here.
"Oh my, a silent type who has his secrets. You didn't seem that way upstairs though."
She was up there? She must be the one hiding the other presences.
Taking a calming breath, Connor spoke. "I'll ask once, how many of you entered the city? What have you done to the city? And are you trying to stop the peace treaty?"
This time the lady laughed, not only from in front of him but also from the front door of the shop.
Spinning, Connor gritted his teeth seeing the second version of the lady carrying two helmets, blood dripping from them.
"You have two abilities?"
Both versions smiled, identical and sinister.
"You figured it out. I can hide presences and make copies of myself."
More pressure was finding its way onto Connors shoulders now. This supposedly good day was turning rather sour. Sighing Connor shifted and unsheathed his arming sword.
This sword had nothing special about it. It was a one-handed straight blade and not heavy. It was double sided and rather simple to handle and maneuver. That being said the pommel was large enough for two hands if needed. Connor was sure he would be using both hands for this fight.
Although Connor was proficient enough to dual wield his blades, using one blade was sometimes best to fight as it increased both power and control. That being leverage for stronger, faster, more control, and tighter cuts.
Unsheathing the blade did more than just re-arm Connor, he also seemed more confident and appeared to have calmed down immediately. A warming glow found its way to Connor, almost radiating and Connor could feel the nervousness washing away as he felt more efficient.
Sorry father, but it looks like I'll be using your power.
The family head was one of the three people who had made contact with the Super Plain, and his gift was unlike anything else in the Western Alliance. He could mark himself and others, temporarily removing all mental and physical restraints. Those he marked always knew the most effective move to make at any given moment.
In short, until his father's reserve ran dry, Connor would be fighting at his absolute peak, beyond one hundred percent even, without suffering any of the usual consequences. No fear. No pain. No hesitation. No fatigue.
"Let's take this outside. It would be a shame if someone tripped."
The lady beamed. "Like your brother."
Realizing she had been with since this morning would have at least made Connors hear beat faster, but not now. Not while he had his father mark activated.
"But I'd rather finish this quickly, so I'll decline." The lady obviously thought this would be easy.
Maintaining an indifferent expression, Connor replied, "Good thing I was not asking."
Taking a step towards the copy, the one closer to the door, Connor threw a punch with what remained of the dagger. The knuckle guard cracked cleanly against her jaw, sending her stumbling through the doorway. Connor followed her outside.
"Taking the lead now, are you?" The original seemed rather ecstatic as she followed them both outside. "I look forward to this new side of you. Take the lead?"
Standing straight up Connor maintained his indifference. Brandishing his blade and getting into stance there was one thing he could say to such a beautiful woman.
"My pleasure. But just so you know, you're a little older for my taste."