The Boys' Battle I

The rage-driven young Shlank bounded up the thin dirt hill, readying his spear as his stare bore into Quentle. He closed the distance quickly and twirled the spear at him, gripping it from the middle.

Quentle stayed calm, defending the blow while maintaining his stable posture. The Shlank continued attacking, whipping both sides of the spear at him repeatedly. Quentle ducked under several blows, before blocking another. He couldn’t counter-strike with the frequency of the attacks, so he decided to step back and force the Shlank to follow him uphill.

“Right, just run away,” the Shlank taunted, pursuing him. “Lead me to the sword while you’re at it, and then I can kill both of you on my way out of here!”

“Tch…” Quentle grumbled, stopping in his tracks. “You’ll never get to see the sword, pal.”

“Oh?” the Shlank asked, closing the distance.

“That’s right, not with me, the true Heir, right here in front of you!”

Quentle swung his spear’s head into the dirt in front of him, scattering it into the path of the attacking Shlank. The Shlank threw his arms out to shield his face from the dirt. Meanwhile, Quentle hopped to his right and stepped into a powerful spear jab directed at his face—but the blow only grazed his cheek. He had seen the attack coming, and craned his neck over just in time, while quickly executing a counter-strike.

The blunt end of the Shlank’s spear wacked Quentle on the side of his head, staggering him. As he stepped back, attempting to regain his wits, the twirling attack came once more, pushing him back further.

He blocked most of the strikes, but several managed to graze his arms and neck, one cutting across the side of his head. He continued backpedaling, until he felt the dirt cascading downhill.

Shit… I’m at the edge!

Forcing his left leg to a skidding stop, he contorted his body to the right as the Shlank threw all of his momentum into a powerful straight jab.

Thanks to his balance, Quentle dodged the blow, and reared his own spear across his body as the young Shlank’s torso followed into Quentle’s hip and planted left leg. While the young man tried to curb his momentum from falling over Quentle’s hip, Quentle thrust his spear into his exposed back.

Because of the angle the spear did not stick deep, but Quentle used its leverage to push the Shlank over his planted leg, flipping him. The Shlank helplessly left his feet, gliding over the edge and falling below with a frustrated grunt.

Quentle gazed over the edge, taking deep breaths as he watched the Shlank roll to the volcano’s base where the others remained, unconscious.

“Heh, looks like I’m a better candidate for the red sword than even a Shlank Heir,” he said, glancing over at Mel’s group as the combatants began a mad dash toward the canyon-like base, led by the Shlanks.

“I’ll leave that to you, Mel… though your plan is going up in flames. Well… I guess it’s up to me to get Cedric out of here, then.”