Reflections on the Warpath - [An Isekai Progression Fantasy]

A streak of orange flames blazed towards Jay. He watched it close in, trusting Ping to defend him while he tried to find the man who'd thrown it.

Jay sprinted towards the firebolt's origin, listening for the fire harmoniser's footsteps.

Racing towards the man flinging fire at him wasn't the most elegant way to reach his opponent, but it was certainly the quickest.

And believing that Lyra and Akira were holding off four gladiators, speed had elegance beat.

Not seen any of Amaya's strings in a minute.

Maybe they're up against five…

Jay sprinted with renewed fervour as Ping deflected the fireball into the ground. He caught a glimpse of the Ashwraith in his peripheral vision.

He didn't change course.

Unless he was within a metre of his opponents, Jay's attacks were harmless. Juggling him between each other was exactly what they wanted.

Jay kept to the unnamed fire harmoniser, eyes and ears scouring the jungle for any traces of movement. He wondered if they'd met during his day-long spell at the Flaming Tomb Alliance, but soon discarded that thought.

If it didn't make him faster, Jay didn't need it.

snap.

Jay twisted his foot, grinding a mulchy plant into the dirt as he cut right. He sprinted towards the sound, once more trusting Ping to block the blazing coals pelting him from behind.

Light followed sound. Jay spotted his opponent's black leather armour after hurdling past a giant root.

The gladiator raised both arms. Twin streams of orange flames spewed out from his palms.

Jay arced around his opponent. The flames followed, jetting out of the harmoniser's hands like a fiery tornado, refusing to let Jay get any closer.

Jay called Ping back to his side as she deflected a smouldering lump of coal into a moss-covered tree. The damp moss ignited, releasing a spurt of steam into the jungle.

He tried to round the oncoming flames again but Jay's opponent shifted to match his every move.

Ping flew in front of Jay, instantly understanding her role.

If he couldn't evade the fire, he had to run through it.

Jay sprinted towards his opponent, shielded from all but the most aggressive flaming tendrils.

Heat pressed into Jay's skin. The more concentrated flames pushed Ping back towards him.

She pushed back.

Through the relentless flaming onslaught, Ping flew forward, her electrical trail galvanising Jay as he followed behind her, shielded from the flames.

When Jay reached the gladiator's wrists, Ping stopped resisting the flames. Instead she redirected them.

Both jets of flame shot skyward as Ping tilted her angle, opening a corridor below for Jay to exploit. Jay ducked beneath his shield. He lunged forward, almost dropping into a squat.

He considered spearing through his opponent's waist before remembering the Ashwraith. A scrappy brawl here would only earn him a burning coal to the chest.

Jay needed to be quick; he didn't need to rush.

His bandaged right fist socked the gladiator in the ribs. His left initiated the grapple, surging up to the fire harmoniser's neck and pressing down against the base of his skull.

Jay wound up another punch.

A streak of ash grey ripped his attention backwards.

Jay activated Eye of the storm. The Ashwraith's projectile burst towards him.

Ping flew up to block it.

Jay returned to the grapple.

The fire harmoniser wrapped his hands around Jay's neck. He felt them heating up, preparing to launch a point-blank attack.

Oh no you don't.

Jay feinted a punch. His opponent blinked. Jay redirected.

With his right fist taped up, Jay didn't have the dexterity to grab his opponent's elbow and break his grip.

Instead he resorted to violence.

He hammered his right fist down into the crook of his opponent's elbow, skewering through his tendons with his one unbroken Conqueror's fist. The serrated blade caught on the stringy sinews. Jay kept pushing.

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The gladiator's screams tore through the jungle.

His grapple broke instantly. Jay wasn't finished. He repositioned his left arm, swinging it beneath his opponent's armpit and driving his left shoulder forward.

Behind Jay, Ping cut towards the oncoming spear of coal and ash.

She swerved.

It flew straight past her.

Jay dropped to his knees. He twisted his opponent, pulling down with his right while lifting through his left shoulder.

The fire harmoniser flipped over Jay's chest.

Directly into the path of his teammate's attack.

The ashes detonated upon contact with Jay's human shield, searing the man's torso jet black.

The gladiator whimpered. Jay slammed his body into the jungle floor, he ripped his right fist free before caving in the man's skull.

One down…

Lyra parried the oncoming baton with her axe, pivoting before another puppet struck where her arm once was.

She'd seen a future twin survive this exchange while taking only one hit. She clenched her teeth, knowing the blow was coming.

Thwack!

The impact jolted her ribcage. It seemed Amaya knew better than to use bladed weapons against Lyra, as all her puppets used either batons or clubs. The blunt metal weapons extended out from the puppets' bronze arms, welded to their wrists almost like a third arm segment.

Lyra flicked her rapier towards her attacker. Another puppet defended against her attack.

She knew only her own future, not theirs.

A pirouette with both weapons extended forced the puppets away from Lyra, earning her a moment to think.

Watching her own futures die had helped her avoid damage so far, but she'd made no headway towards defeating even one of the six puppets before her, let alone finding Amaya somewhere within the jungle.

She had to try something new.

She had to take a risk. Even if that meant forsaking her future.

Lyra's potential futures vanished.

Six puppets still loomed over Lyra, suspended mid-air by crimson strings.

Start with one. Work your way up.

Grey outlines of the leftmost puppet flooded into the jungle. Fragments of possibility waiting to be actualised.

In the four weeks since her first fight at the Shattered Cages, Lyra had greatly improved her twin foresight and was comfortable observing two futures at once. She'd tried attempting more, but only ever aimed for two. There were only two people she wanted dead, after all.

Six was uncharted territory.

The puppets launched a coordinated assault. Lyra tried to piece their plan together with one sixth of the evidence.

Using her opponent's future was far more complex than her own. Before, all Lyra had to do was watch her twins die and make opposing decisions. Now she gambled her life with every step.

She swiped her axe at an oncoming baton, stifling the first puppet's attack. Another swung for the gap she created. Lyra jumped aside to dodge.

Directly towards another puppet.

It swung a club towards her chest. She ducked, nudging the attack further up with the head of her axe.

Another puppet rushed in. Luckily, ethereal clones preceded this one. Lyra watched the puppet's potential futures falter as she raised her rapier. She subtly repositioned her guard, guiding her opponent to the future that suited her best.

Lyra used the attack's momentum against it, pushing the baton into a second puppet. She glanced over her shoulder. Instead of an escape route, she only saw another puppet.

Twin futures sprang from this one too, spreading left and right as Lyra extended her foresight to a second opponent.

The overlapping futures blurred Lyra's vision. She felt her world tilt, just for a second, before her mind snapped it back in place, acknowledging all the futures.

She ran towards the puppet, knowing that less distance meant fewer possibilities.

It also meant less room to escape.

Two unwatched puppets boxed in Lyra as she ran towards their ally.

The possibilities narrowed. With two puppets flanking the first, it didn't need to do much.

The three puppets swooped towards Lyra. She rushed the one in front. Her rapier shot forward, slashing towards one of its futures. It chose another path. The two flanking puppets loomed closer. One hammered a club towards her chest. Too heavy to block. She stepped back, twisting to dodge an ethereal baton aimed at her head.

Crack!

The third puppet's baton crunched into Lyra's elbow. She flailed her axe at it but crimson strings yanked it away from her. The puppet retreated into the rainforest as two more took its place.

Even two's not enough.

Whenever Lyra tracked three futures at once, the battlefield splintered into a sloppy mess of ethereal futures. Each fighter's twins overlapped with each other creating an indecipherable cacophony of potential. There were simply too many variables, too many conflicting goals and plans.

Lyra backpedalled deeper into the forest, struggling to keep all the puppets in her line of sight.

She'd struggled with three, yet before her stood six.

But what else can I do?

Akira flicked Ezekiel's sword aside, knocking the quicksilver blade into Draeven's path. He tugged on Jiki, accelerating his retreat before Ezekiel launched another attack.

A second Ezekiel ran out from behind the first.

Akira whipped his head between them, trying to catch Azrin's illusion before the real Ezekiel could attack. Both swordsmen advanced. Stances identical. Swords held aside.

The wrists.

The left Ezekiel held his sword loosely, letting it drape across the ground. He didn't need to grip the quicksilver blade tightly until he willed it back to rigidity.

The right Ezekiel matched his attack, leaving the sword in its whip-like form. He clenched his fingers around his sword in a more conventional style.

He didn't need Ezekiel's versatile grip.

Because he wasn't holding Ezekiel's sword.

Akira blinked. Azrin's disguise vanished. The illusionist swung his curved sword forward.

Akira reached into his quiver, searching for Jay's dagger. Its explosive charge was spent but that didn't mean it was useless.

Akira raised the weapon just in time. Sparks careened off the dagger as Azrin's sword hammered into it.

Ezekiel lunged even further right, opting to flank Akira instead of joining his ally's assault.

Akira focused back on the illusionist.

He parried the curved sword downwards before flicking the dagger at Azrin's neck.

He raised his arm and pulled.

Azrin snapped back, remembering his teammate's near miss. The dagger whistled past his head.

Akira still pulled.

"The same trick won't work twice!" said Azrin, smirking as Akira's attack flew by. "I'm not an i-"

A neck full of denatured steel silenced the gladiator.

While Azrin focused on Akira's 'same trick', he forgot what it had left behind. Instead of pushing on the dagger, Akira had pulled on the mangled Conqueror's fist he'd thrown earlier.

Jay's broken old weapon had gone untouched since Akira had last used it, but it hadn't gone unforgotten.

"I guess it did work twi-"

Ssskt.

A tiny pinprick poked at Akira's ankle.

He turned instantly. The cut barely nicked him, but he wasn't worried about the cut.

Ezekiel backed off. His sword returned to his side, a single drop of blood on its tip.

Across the clearing, Jay's exploding dagger plummeted from the sky, embedding itself into the dirt. The Soulsnatcher raised his offhand, twirling his fingers before reaching out to it.

The dagger soared towards him, its grip landing perfectly in his palm.

Ezekiel held the dagger out in front of him, intensely staring at the blade while levitating its metal three inches above his hand.

He flicked his eyes onto Akira.

"This should be fun..."