NOVEL NEXT Chapter 621: Two Devils
Although the fight between Nessa and Mort was agreed upon beforehand, it wasn't an 'official' match. As such, there was no referee, no rules, and no ring. It started when they were ready. It would end when one of them lost. And it would take place where their attacks took them.
Mort took a moment to size Nessa up as they slowly circled each other. It was the first time he saw that kind of armor. It looked alive. It looked like a second layer to her body. It moved with her body, and the joints were connected seamlessly. Nessa's armor had no apparent weaknesses, not even the flat shoulder socket.
However, Mort didn't need to rely on taking advantage of the structural deficiencies of his opponent's armor. He was a miner. He used a pickaxe. He mined stones, ores, and mountains. He was used to breaking things that others considered unbreakable with nothing but a swing of his pickaxe.
Nessa was…not used to her opponents giving her time to prepare. She was not used to them standing idly by and waiting. She was used to them lunging at her or her familiars with crimson bloodlust oozing from their gaping maws.
That was why she was a little stunned at Mort's caution. But after a few moments, she realized that Mort wasn't just watching her because he was confident. He was watching her because he was wary.
While Mort was still considering the best way to break through Nessa's armor and if she hid any other strange abilities, Nessa stopped thinking and lunged forward. She dashed toward Mort in the shape of a black blur, stopping right in front of him and stomping her foot into the ground, gathering her speed and momentum in her fist.
Mort reacted instinctively and raised the pickaxe, blocking Nessa's armor-covered fist with the divine tool, blessed by his god, Mountain Breaker. Her blow struck the wooden shaft with a dull thump.
A moment later, Mort flew backward. The blow was powerful enough to send him flying, even if he blocked it.
But it wasn't powerful enough to damage him through the pickaxe, and he sailed a few steps before gathering his balance. He slogged down the pickaxe into the ground like an anchor and pulled himself to a stop, the axe tip drawing a furrow in the ground twice as deep as the ones from Mort's feet and other hand.
Mort looked up and straight at Nessa with fiery eyes.
They had underestimated Nessa. That much was obvious from the start.
But it was only now that Mort realized how badly.
He also realized something else.
He was used to hitting things that didn't hit back, such as cave walls or lumbering stone monsters that others couldn't deal with as easily as him.
It had been a long while since he had fought other humans.
He pushed off the ground, his feet kicking dirt into the air as he shot toward Nessa, his pickaxe hanging behind his head as he gathered strength for a swing that could crack open a granite boulder the size of a house.
Nessa's pupils shrank as she zeroed in on the pickaxe tip.
If it had been a sword, she would have been confident she could have taken it head-on, as long as it wasn't Yanael's.
On a sword, the full force of that blow would have been spread out on as large a part as the part of the blade that hit her armor.
On the pickaxe, the full force of the blow was concentrated on a tip barely bigger than the tip of a needle.
Nessa hurriedly stepped to the side, the drag from Mort's blow scratching the armor on her front. The blow itself hit the ground and split it four ways. Deep cracks spread like the earth was falling apart before stopping once they had reached thirty strides.
All four cracks looked similar, and they were exactly the same length. They were testament to the perfect control Mort had over his strength.
Nessa's armor was harder than the ground, but it could not withstand a blow like that.
Nessa's eyes widened, and the breath she inhaled was icy cold.
The air she exhaled, however, was fiery hot.
It was a good thing her armor covered her face.
Otherwise, the spectators would have realized that there was not one demon among them, but two.
Nessa didn't feel the grin her face was making. All sensations irrelevant to the fight faded into the background and were quickly forgotten.
Before Mort could pull his pickaxe out of the ground, Nessa spun around on the spot and did half a turn, projecting her armor-covered heel into Mort's face.
Mort ducked low only to see the bridge of her other foot already on its way to send his head to the sky.
A chill ran down Mort's spine. He sucked in a cold breath between clenched teeth as he hastily leaned backward, Nessa's foot grazing the air right in front of his nose.
Mort yanked his pickaxe out of the ground and threw himself backward, doing something in between a backflip and a donkey roll to end up on his feet a stride away from Nessa.
He felt something wet run down his nose and absentmindedly wiped it away while not taking his eyes off Nessa, who stood on the balls of her feet with her hand raised. She was ready to lunge forward as soon as he showed an opening.
That opening came when he glanced at the back of his hand and saw the crimson blood.
A near-miss had been enough to make him bleed.
Nessa wasn't just covered head-to-toe in armor. She was strong.
Mort quickly realized his mistake and raised his gaze to look at Nessa again, but she had already disappeared from the spot.
Mort felt his side suddenly grow cold. He didn't even see it. He moved on instinct again and flicked his pickaxe to the side right as Nessa's glistening, armor-covered fist broke apart the air to reach him even a millisecond faster.