A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

192  The Shadows - Part 17

Ingolsol tempted him towards the path of dark domination.

Claudia wanted to make a hero out of him.

Beam turned on his foot, to face off against the charging Titan. Its eyes opened in momentary surprise, as Beam's sudden decision to attack caught it off guard. It was in so close now that its fist passed easily over Beam's ducked head.

But the beak was there to take its place. Like a pair of scissors, its jaw opened, going for Beam's neck.

Darkness swirled around him. He wanted the beast to submit, but he didn't have the power to make it do so. It was a hero's power that he needed, something to lend his blade strength. It was the overwhelming style of swordsmanship that he had begun to train, unconsciously drawn towards the path of its light.

His sword came down on the beast head-on. He calmed his fears and faced it anyway. His shoulders bunched up as he put more power into the blow than he had ever managed before.

There was a brief moment of struggle, as the creature tried to hold his sword at bay, and as Beam tried to force it down. But then it flicked its head, and Beam's sword was forced off to the side, the boy alongside it.

Claws flashed from the Titan, as those dagger-like weapons slashed down the length of his back, and Beam was flung a distance away.

"Gaghh!" He cried out, as he finally came to a halt. He could feel the burning pain running down the length of his back. Three distinct rivers of it. There was a warmth to it too, as blood gushed from wounds.

He rolled over and climbed his way back to his feet. Despite the wound, Beam was smiling. He could feel it now. A path that he could walk to seize victory. The attack that the Titan had so narrowly defended – next time, he would make it land.

The Titan seemed to be able to feel it too, for it was still rooted to the spot, paused midmotion, as it struggled to process what had just happened. So suddenly, where there was no competition, no resistance, there'd sprung up a fierce struggle. n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

Beam stood up, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth, a smile on his lips. Better than anyone alive, he knew what it meant to struggle. He was not about to turn away from a fight – especially when there were not such delightful rewards on offer.

He could finally feel it – the same potential that Dominus seemed to see in him. Ever since that fight with the evolved hobgoblin, he had seen his progress coming faster, coming easier, and he had assumed that was the limit of his achievement. He'd been more than content with that. After all, in the past, he had no progress to his name.

And now, he was finally tasting it. The world of talent that had been denied to him when Ingolsol cursed him all those years ago. His true talent, which lay beyond struggle, that Dominus had claimed even rivalled Arthur's.

But Beam was not Arthur. He could sense that in himself now. Though he had no part in it, his soul was eternally placed in a precarious balance, forcing him to endure constant resistance. The interference of the Gods held him back. Ingolsol through his maliciousness, and then Claudia afterwards, in her attempt at compassion.

Now Beam could feel a use for both of them. Though dangerous, he dared to ask them for their assistance. Claudia for the strength of a hero, and Ingolsol for the might of the devil.

They said nothing, and yet, all at once, Beam's aura swelled, as two opposites that had warred for all eternity were forced into a union, under Beam's rule.

Beam felt his skin tingle. The pain on his back slowly faded away, though the wound still continued to pour with blood. He held his hand up in front of him. Slowly but surely the shaking began to die down.

There was power to be had, his body now realized. With the stars above him, and the temporary union inside of him, he was in a zone of perfect potential. Tonight, he was offered a seat at the banquet of progress – and he was determined to eat all that he could.

This time, it was Beam that took the step towards the Titan, as it eyed him from a distance away. With that step, the Titan trembled a moment, before it moved to meet him, the dismay obvious on its face. After all – it was born to be a calamity. It was its destiny to rule. It was a physical phenomenon of the highest order.

For something to resist it, to fight back, it wasn't just a surprise, it was downright unnatural.

But its soul merely claimed its opposition to be a fool, and its confidence returned. No, in fact, it surged. His limbs were animated in a vicious excitement, as its muscles bunched up beneath it, and it shot forward, even faster than before.

It swung its claws, using their extra range, rather than the brutish force of its fist as it had before.

Beam caught the claws on his sword and brushed them off to the side. Just in that brief moment of contact, he could already feel his knees begin to buckle from the force. It was more than clear to him that it would be reckless to attempt to take the hit on.

But even merely brushing the blow aside was beyond the Titan's expectations. It had swung its claws with the full intent to kill. He was sure the tiny creature in front of it would dodge, just as it had for the rest of the fight. And yet, Beam didn't even take a step back.

The Titan swung its claws again, this time in a combination. It leaned its weight on its hind legs, before swinging down with the left and the right and then the left again, its movements but a blur in the air.

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