The beast survived.
Atheline smiled.
"Good."
The fight lasted nearly an hour. He deliberately avoided overwhelming it with his Peak Mystic strength; instead he watched how it used water.
Every attack changed as he got used to his power. A wave became a whip, the whip became hundreds of droplets and the droplets became needles.
When Atheline cut through one attack, the water simply rejoined. Nothing was wasted or insisted on remaining what it had previously been.
Atheline suddenly understood. With adaptation, water yielded.
That wasn't weakness.
Water accepted the shape of whatever contained it while never ceasing to be water; block its path and it flowed around, give it time and it carved through stone, heat it and it became vapor, cool it and it became ice, also destroy its form and it simply took another.
Atheline lowered his bow.
The beast attacked.
An enormous wave approached; instead of opposing it, he raised one hand and his Water Aether entered the wave.
