Tryg analyzed the battlefield — memorized the positions of every stone and protruding root, every frozen puddle, every place that could hinder him — without losing sight of his enemies' actions.
The two Tatzelwurms snarled and advanced, entering the ground and digging through the earth toward him. The Revenant, on the other hand, remained still, staring at him and laughing sinisterly.
A moment later, she attacked, puffing out her chest and spitting jets of poison. Tryg predicted the attacks and ran with his sword raised, circling the chamber. First, because he did not want to be poisoned, of course. Second, because he wanted to create distance from the two beasts beneath the earth.
They insisted on their hunt, pursuing Tryg swiftly and relentlessly. Far enough to avoid being attacked, but close enough to attack, the Tatzelwurms sprouted from the earth and fired concentrated, yellowish electric blasts from their mouths.
Tryg leapt forward and rolled across the ground, letting the lightning pass harmlessly above and below him. Then he pushed himself forward again, focusing on getting closer to the witch.
His plan, in general, had not changed; it was still quite similar to the one he had used against the Raven Keeper — hitting the Revenant with the magic of others to make her tangible. He would have to be cautious, however, when redirecting the Tatzelwurms' shots.
When he had faced those beasts for the first time, Tryg had been struck by an electric blast that had left him paralyzed on the ground, convulsing frantically. If there had not been only one beast, and if it had not been far away, things would certainly have ended much worse. Tryg did not want to repeat that experience.
After missing, the Tatzelwurms returned into the earth, digging and then resuming their pursuit. The Revenant did not remain still either. Screaming harsh, incomprehensible words, she planted the tip of the staff into the ground and pushed it forward, sending a trail of poison in Tryg's direction.
He jumped to the side and ran. A few steps later, he reached the witch... and threw himself at her, delivering a thrust. The Revenant's body shimmered like a mirage, letting Tryg pass straight through her, without resistance. He felt as if he had tried to stab clouds of mist.
The witch laughed, wicked and pleased, then violently swung the staff at his face. Tryg felt a chilling, satisfying déjà vu and, holding his breath... grabbed her weapon with a single hand. He laughed too.
Yes, most of what he had planned was similar to the previous plan. But there was one difference — a small addition he had created from a fact that had occurred to him after reliving several times his first and bitter defeat against a Revenant.
More specifically, the staff blow that had struck his head so hard back then. A physical attack that could only have been delivered if part of the witch had become tangible, material... Her weapon.
Still holding his breath, Tryg pulled the staff with force, jumping back, and disarmed the Revenant. Then he ran to the nearest wall of the labyrinth and smashed it against it, breaking it into several pieces, greenish clouds and splinters of wood flying through the air.
The Revenant stared at him for a moment, then screamed, even more furious. The corners of Tryg's lips rose further. However, there was no time to savor his enemy's anger.
The Tatzelwurms returned, emerging at the same time, and spat more electric blasts. Running, Tryg analyzed the prophetic shadows and avoided the yellow lightning. Soon after, he also saw the witch spitting green, viscous, gaseous jets. His shadow vision acted again, and he deflected each of the poisonous shots, redirecting them and leaving green puddles along the way.
Tryg deflected the last of the jets, letting out a triumphant shout and drawing a powerful arc with his sword — the same movement Sinmara had been teaching him. Then something occurred to him, something he had not noticed — and could not have noticed — during the training sessions.
He analyzed the battered sword in his hands. The blade felt more precise, lighter... and more familiar... as if it were no longer merely a weapon, but an extension of his own arm. It was a subtle sensation, almost imperceptible, but certainly real. And good.
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And this after only two days of training... he thought, excited.
"Good," pointed out the fox-queen nearby, camouflaged in the snow, "but you do not need to be so loud."
Tryg almost faltered because of that comment. Sinmara was the kind of teacher who tried to motivate students through demotivation, and she was a professional at it. Still, no matter how disconcerted he became, Tryg never lost focus. Only a little bit of his self-confidence.
Why does the praise always have to come with some criticism...? He sighed.
The Tatzelwurms emerged closer this time and leapt at him with their jaws wide and drooling, their enormous fangs crackling with lightning. Tryg made a half-turn to avoid the first. Then, with a slight slide of the sword, he cut the second one's throat. The beast fell motionless to the ground, dark blood flowing and staining the grass. The smell of rust.
The other Tatzelwurm tried to back away again and flee to safety. Tryg grabbed its reptilian tail, stopping it, and hurled it near the Revenant.
She, incidentally, spat more poisonous jets. Tryg accelerated, predicting and defending himself from each of the greenish projectiles. Compared to the Raven Keeper's ice spikes, they were much easier to redirect.
He saw a new crack appear on the surface of his blade. He was demanding too much from such a worn weapon, but he needed to survive and practice.
The witch growled, enraged by her own failure. Tryg finally reached her again and attacked her. The blow would have no effect, true. And that was not his intention. What he wanted, in fact, was to force the Revenant to remain intangible, thus preventing her from attacking, while he waited for the Tatzelwurm's next electric discharge.
However, just before the blade touched the mirage that the witch was, her body spun. Folded into itself several times. Then vanished.
Tryg widened his eyes and braked. Then he shook his head from side to side, searching for his enemy, and soon found her on the other side of the chamber.
And here I thought I'd seen everything she could do... His gaze fell on the white, watchful fox sitting in the distance. He frowned at her, a little exasperated by her inconvenient habit of withholding relevant information. Still, he understood.
Sinmara not only liked using discouragement as a method of teaching and motivation, but also pain. In this case, it seemed she was waiting for Tryg to be hit by a spray of poison to teach him to stop being so reckless during his battles.
Fortunately, Tryg had not yet suffered because of the queen's deliberate quietness... yet. He sighed, foreseeing the injuries he would gain under her care very soon.
Then he accelerated, while conjecturing about the witch's new ability. An ability whose mere existence could completely change his plan, since the Revenant could easily avoid any enemy attack.
...No, not necessarily, he realized. The Raven Keeper, although she was a living woman, was also similar to the Revenants in several ways, including in appearance and magic. Yes, she used ice magic, but the way she used it was very similar to theirs.
Even so, she had never once used teleportation against Tryg, not even to escape the burning pieces of torso that had nearly caused her defeat. Therefore, there had to be a limiter for this ability. A condition for its use, perhaps...
Yes, that's it. In the same way the Revenant could avoid physical attacks, but not magical ones, by becoming intangible, the same should also apply to the new ability. In other words, the witch could teleport when a physical attack threatened her, but not when a magical attack did the same.
Tryg had no way of knowing the reason behind it, much less being certain about the validity of his theory, no matter how logical it was. First, he needed to test it.
With that in mind, Tryg stopped sharply, avoiding another jet of poison from the witch. Then he resumed his run, now toward the Tatzelwurm, which was also coming toward him, digging.
A moment later, the beast leapt, snarling, trying to bite Tryg again with its bladed, lightning-crackling fangs. Tryg performed a low roll, letting the beast pass over him. After that, he shot toward the Revenant, glancing over his shoulder the entire time, waiting for the beast's next attack. Or rather, its shadow's.
Now! He jumped to the side. Roaring, the Tatzelwurm fired a blast of lightning that lit up part of the chamber and produced a thunderous boom. The shot passed exactly where Tryg had been a second earlier and continued mercilessly toward the Revenant.
With his slowed perception, Tryg glimpsed the witch falter, tremble, and then be struck and electrocuted, while screaming in pain to the heavens. Her body, before wavering like mist, became tangible, yellow lightning burning her gray skin, scorching her disheveled hair.
Tryg felt his heart hammering against his ribs. Anxiety. Apprehension. Even so, he stood up and quickly reached the Revenant. He split her masked head in half with the sword. Thick, dark liquid spilled out, painting the snow, the blade, his gloves. The smell of rot and smoke.
I did it...
His ideas, his training, his combat — everything he had been training and planning had led Tryg to complete success, even with a few setbacks. He had truly defeated the same enemy that had once forced him to flee. To lose. To fail.
He should have felt alive, satisfied at the very least. But he did not. The victory had come too easily, but Tryg did not feel victorious. After all, even though he had paid no relevant price, he had still made many mistakes.
He was still very inexperienced, still had much to improve. His precision when using the vision of the shadows; his analytical, physical, and magical abilities; his posture, his technique, his equipment and tools; and more, much more.
If he wanted to endure until the end, he needed to become stronger.