NOVEL WEB 397. Clash of the Fragments
Ike and Llewyn slammed into one another. Sparks flew as the Hungry Sword gnawed into Llewyn's shiny gauntlets. The two of them struggled, both about at the same strength. Their eyes narrowed, and they both flashed into motion. In the space of a breath, they exchanged a dozen blows. Ike, manipulating a heavy two-handed sword, should have struggled to keep up, but his speed was enough to match Llewyn's fists even with the comparatively greater weight of the Hungry Sword. Llewyn hammered down on him, his fists heavy, but not as heavy as his blows had seemed during their first battle. They'd both grown, doubtlessly, but Ike had grown more.
Llewyn drew back. They circled one another, watching for the first opening. Mag fluttered over to a nearby puppet's head to watch the battle. Wisp had built a hammock from spider thread and settled in, snacking on something Ike couldn't, and probably didn't want to, identify. Brightbriar, somewhat to Ike's surprise, was watching as well, sitting in a chair he'd summoned from gods-only-knew where and watching with alertness and curiosity. It didn't feel aggressive or domineering, but like… well, like a father watching his two sons scrap in a recreational game of ball.
He snorted under his breath. Regardless of whether he or Llewyn won, Brightbriar won, from the madman's perspective. Of course he wouldn't be tense about this battle… though to be completely transparent, he was pretty sure Llewyn was the only one who was fully engaged. Mag and Wisp were enjoying themselves, and he was still easily able to hide his true strength without even coming close to losing the battle. With Brightbriar right there watching, he didn't want to reveal too many of his cards, but on the other hand, Llewyn hadn't forced him to yet.
Of course, from Ike's perspective, Brightbriar lost if he won, but that was a conflict for Ike and Brightbriar to resolve after he took down this loser.
Llewyn noticed Ike's distraction and dashed in. Ike widened his eyes, then laughed. He vanished, leaving behind an after-image, and reappeared behind Llewyn, hammering the man with blows from behind. Llewyn had had to give up his speed to change to his heavy-weight blows mode, but Ike didn't have to give up anything. He was fast and strong. He'd trained for a long time, practiced for ages and ages, engaged in battle after battle, to gain this strength. He hadn't just absorbed other fragments, after Brightbriar or whatever, whoever, had weakened them for him, he'd gone out and fought and struggled, and obtained the fragments with his own strength. Llweyn was the favored child, but Brightbriar's favor had only weakened him.
Ike snorted. Maybe Brightbriar really had been self-sabotaging right from the start. Maybe the only way for him to ever succeed, was to throw a child away the way he had Ike, and let that child grow on their own with no 'assistance' or 'supervision.' Brightbriar's assistance only hindered his children's progress, but he seemed totally unable to realize that.
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I wonder if that's what Brightbriar's punishment was, Ike wondered, as he continued to pummel Llewyn. The inability to see past his own flaws. Then again, he'd certainly met ordinary people who also lacked the ability to see past their own flaws, so it wasn't as if it was locked in as his punishment.
The gentlest punishment… but perhaps, also the harshest. He still didn't understand what that meant, not even now that he was looking at Brightbriar and fighting right in front of him—but then, he didn't know what or who Brightbriar had been, or what had happened to him. The fog spirit he didn't need to ask about; he doubted she'd started her life as a wisp of fog, unable to leave that foggy valley. The gentle part he understood. Brightbriar was still human, after all. Still able to wander the world and live in it, take uncountable wives and produce uncountable children. Hell, if I had my way, this man would never make another kid in his life, but clearly whoever punished him disagreed, Ike thought, suddenly annoyed at whatever being had punished Brightbriar. Sure, he wouldn't exist if Brightbriar couldn't run around spreading his wild oats, but on the other hand, they wouldn't be in this situation at all.
Then again, he had the distinct feeling that whatever had punished Brightbriar, considered his current actions as part of his punishment.
Llewyn snarled and whipped around to face Ike, only for Ike to dance around behind him again. As he spun, he hooked his fingers under Llewyn's armor, jumped up, and braced his feet against Llewyn's hips. The puppet's bonus arms grappled backward, fighting Ike as though he were facing Llewyn, but he ignored the puppet's attacks. His healing skill could handle that level of damage. Instead, he just pulled, pulling with all his might. The hinges creaked, and the leather straps strained.
"What are you doing?" Llewyn snapped, lifting two hands to land a hammer blow on Ike's head.
Ike released his armor and hopped back, just to grab the Hungry Sword and hammer him from the side. The damaged hinges and straps broke lose. The armor began to fall. Llewyn grabbed at it, but Ike was already there. He snatched the armor by its intact shoulder and yanked it off Llewyn, tossing it away.
Llewyn growled. The empowerment on his body faded, and he returned to his usual speed and strength.
Ike laughed. "Like I thought. You never properly absorbed the other fragments, did you? Just transformed them into clothes instead. All I have to do is take your armor away, and you're helpless!"
"Hell yeah! Strip him nude!" Wisp cheered.
Ike glared at her. He'd realized it even as he was saying it, but he didn't need the peanut gallery chiming in to remind him.
"Even if you've realized it, you can't—"
Ike sighed. He was about done with this farce. Llewyn was no challenge to him. If this was the best Brightbriar had to offer, then he wasn't worried at all.
Of course, there's always Brightbriar.
Stepping forward, Ike wound up. Llewyn's torso rotated, but he didn't wait to let the man finish equipping the next fragment. Instead, he hit a home run into Llewyn's ear, taking the puppet's head directly off. It flew off, spinning into the mess of puppets. Llewyn kept fighting, even headless, but Ike knew what to do this time. He thrust his hand into the empty hole where Llewyn's head had been, deep into his torso, and absorbed.