Back in the arena, Astaroth was watching the timer on his melding slowly run out, and clicked his tongue in disappointment.
ƥαṇdαηθνε|
Just as the meld was about to end, he kicked off his left foot, dashing backwards, as he pulled out his bow and fired two arrows.
While Stinger was busy dodging one and parrying the other, Astaroth summoned White safely. And with him out, the clashing became a lot more unilateral.
Stinger was good in one-on-one combat, and he could find his way in and out of a brawl against most groups, but the coordination White and Astaroth showed was no joke.
They caught him in pincer many times, and even though he always dodged one of the two attacks, he never got out unscathed from these trades.
Slowly, his health started going down, and he grit his teeth, angered at the situation. He was losing to a kid half his age.
Although Stinger knew better than to not judge a person by their age, he could see the lack of experience in his opponent’s moves. So it angered him he was still losing.
‘I’m losing to a pup who barely knows which end of the knife to stab with!’ He thought.
Squeezing the handles of his daggers harder, he used a skill that he didn’t want to use yet. One that he considered his trump card.
Just as Astaroth and White were pinching him again, for the fifth time, Stinger slapped his foot on his own shadow. As he did that, his body melted into it, vanishing from between Astaroth and White.
He reappeared behind Astaroth, both daggers stabbing into his back, as White crashed into his master, unable to stop his momentum in such a short distance.
Astaroth took a massive amount of damage from the two-pronged attack, as Stinger jumped back. He grinned as he watched the two collide and his prey’s health drop drastically.
It surprised him he didn’t outright kill him, as he had done to other players before. But with how much health he took from him, it was now only a matter of time.
Astaroth, on his side, looked up at his health bar and winced. More than half of it was gone.
The only reason he was not instantly dead was that he cast mana skin instantly when he saw Stinger disappear. And he was happy he did.
Close to two-thirds of his health was lost, from a single attack. He could surmise that Stinger had used at least two skills in that one instant, seeing how a normal hit would not half done such damage.
He hoped that his little teleport skill had a long cooldown, because if it didn’t he was now most likely screwed.
Astaroth turned to look at Stinger, who was still in an attack stance, grinning at him from a short distance away.
“Nice skill.” Astaroth said, lowering his stance again.
“Same to you, kid. That was some very impressive reaction time.” Stinger replied, half honestly.
In his mind, he was cursing. When he looked at the boy and the wolf colliding, he saw the shimmer coming off of his body.
He guessed that was the reason Astaroth hadn’t died instantly. A defensive skill, he surmised.
In his skill list, Stinger could see the timer for his Shadow Step skill was just under a minute. That meant if he could hold on for another minute, he could finish this combat in a victory.
Stinger looked at his own health bar, and it was under half. It was not that much health to start with, since he was an agility-based player.
He had a little under two thousand health points left, but he still thought he had more than Astaroth, who was down two-thirds of his.
Astaroth looked at his health bar. He still had fifteen hundred health points left.
It was not good, but it was enough. He had just formed a plan to end this battle.
He quickly explained it to his spirit companion, as he started pacing around Stinger. Stinger did the same, as they engaged in a three-man awkward walk around, Mexican standoff style.
This didn’t go on for long, as Astaroth dashed forward, lunging at Stinger. Stinger also ran, but in a concentric motion, trying to stay away from White. He was trying to make sure he could see them both at all times.
The three of them clashed a few times, White not quite getting behind Stinger, as he kept positioning himself close to the walls. It took almost five more minutes of manoeuvring to pincer him again.
Stinger held onto his Shadow Step for a perfect opportunity, but since he wasn’t letting them pincer him, it took time to get this shot.
But it soon came, as Astaroth and White finally positioned him between themselves. With both of them dashing at him from different directions, he lifted his foot, half grinning.
But something threw him off when he looked at Astaroth’s face. The kid was smiling widely.
Also, his strike stance was off. He was holding his daggers back to back like they were one long pole.
Then, as his food tapped his shadow, he remembered something. But it was too late.
He remembered the kid could use many weapons, but since Astaroth had been wielding only daggers against him all this while, it had slipped his mind. And that stance he was in right now was not a dagger stance.
As he started disappearing from between them from the corner of his eye, he saw White sidestepping. The next thing he saw was Astaroth’s mad grin, as he reappeared behind him.
In his hands were no longer two daggers, but one greataxe. And the axe was already in a swinging motion.
Stinger understood he had been played. Astaroth had been waiting for this exact moment.
The axe came in sideways, aimed at his torso, and he could not defend against it. It passed cleanly through his midsection.
Silence permeated the arena, as half of Stinger’s body was falling from the other half, his eyes wide open.
When it hit the ground, the crowd erupted in a cheer.