A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

A blow that earlier wouldn't even have cracked its carapace was the same blow that sent it skidding off the path.

By just the slightest amount, Oliver had changed its direction. An overwhelming strike – a counterattack. A hero's strike. Of course, Claudia applauded. In that void where he'd felt only pain from her thought, he now felt something approaching elation, the promise of power, fingers reaching towards him.

If he'd looked, he might have seen the faint glow about his hands. The same glow that had afflicted Jok as he ascended to the Third Boundary, and received his second Blessing from Varsharn.

It was faint, but there was something there. Something beyond who Oliver currently was. A door to a different world, the key to a box that likely should not have been opened.

"That's it," Ingolsol cooed. He was afflicted by Oliver's own excitement.

The Boulder Crab took a moment to recover. It seemed shocked. Uncertain. Perhaps it sensed something in Oliver's eyes. Those joints that it had were suddenly looking considerably weaker. Oliver thought that if he levelled all his strength against one, then he could likely break it.

The beast must have sensed his intentions, for it lowered its body, making its legs harder to reach. But that also should have made it slower, or so Oliver thought – else what would have been the advantage of keeping its legs so long earlier?

Indeed, it didn't attack in that form. It scuttled along the bottom of the cliff, circling Oliver, looking for a better opportunity. All the while Oliver watched. Even without swinging his sword, he was drinking it in, learning, evolving.

The Poison Water Style. Trickery, Overwhelm, Monstrosity. What more could he add to it? What more was there?

It was founded on flow. That idea that he attempted to imitate from Dominus. But he didn't have a form that included flow specifically. That sense for flow had become a constant part of his battlefield attention. Maybe he could add more in? Another form, the form of mind?

Ideas that previously were denied to him, no matter how hard he thought about them, came to him in abundance. Every thought that popped into his head seemed to be filled with endless richness and connection.

With his attention to the Form of Mind, he took in even more of the scene around him. It wasn't just the crab, but the plateau, and everything to the front of his vision, with the same detail as though he was looking directly at it. Even slightly behind him, the Form of Mind extended. But not all the way back. That limitation continued to afflict him even there.

He knew that the Boulder Crab would charge even before it did. He saw the dust beneath the snow that its claws kicked up, as they scraped off the top layer of rock.

His muscles tensed. He motioned with his arm off to the left, feeling the flow, feeling the crab's minute response to even that action. He pivoted off to the side, weaving his web, moving through the battlefield. Again, the crab moved in tandem. Half a step in Oliver's plan.

A slight pivot to the right, and the crab adjusted accordingly, following, following, frantic, all the while being led by Oliver's guidance, as he conserved his speed, and led it into its momentum of imbalance.

It was surprised when it swung its heavy claws to find nothing there. It was even more surprising to feel such a force belting into its back. Oliver had leapt – using the edge of the cliff face – right on top of it, and he swung down his sword with even more force than he had before. The light around his wrist grew bright. He felt the crab tremble from the force of the blow. He heard something creak.

Almost – almost he managed to crack it.

He changed Form and left the crab's back. A sudden spark of insight: the Forms themselves didn't matter. It was the mindset that they brought as he wielded them. They trained different parts of his body as his mind imagined different things. He moved differently. It almost allowed him to approach a problem as separate people.

The style of Poison Water grew to include the perceptive Form of Mind. It grew again, to include the General, an approach similar to his form of Trickery, but more methodical, without the darkness that clung to his other movements.

Ingolsol spat at the idea. But another voice did not.

Everso faintly, he heard her. "Beam!" She whispered.

"Oliver now, wench. The game has changed," Ingolsol said, though he didn't sound displeased to hear from her.

"Dangerous… Dangerous…" She told him, in a voice ever so faint, as though calling to him through a dream.

"That has been established," Ingolsol said again, this time with the faintest trace of irritation.

It was working, whatever it was. Oliver could feel it through him. A boundless energy. A sealing of the void within him, a bridging of that gap. It ran so strongly it almost seemed to want to burn his insides. But it was a good burning, at least for now.

"Beam!" Claudia said again, more strongly this time. Oliver had recovered his footing, after returning to the ground. He continued to face off against the crab, as he used the Form of Mind to drink everything in. Their positions had been reversed again, and now the Form of Mind extended out towards the adjacent plateau, where his friends still stood.
Enjoy new tales from empire

Was that an awed expression on the face of Jorah? But there was fear tight in his jaw. What did Blackthorn see, through those eyes of hers? She seemed to be gripping her sword rather tightly. Even her retainers had recovered, they were on the very edge of the platform, watching with hands clasped as Oliver did battle.

He imagined he must have looked quite a sight, with his upper body exposed to the elements, and that cut running down his bank.

Galvin still had not moved to interfere. He stood with his sword between his legs, a grave expression on his face. He and Verdant seemed to see what the others could not. The man was muttering gravely under his breath, whilst Verdant shared a similar look. The priest was looking in his direction with enough intensity that Oliver was certain he could see through him.