Dance of Ice
Before the huntsman, Striker could strike Talon, a blade of ice materialized in Damian's hand, poised just inches from the huntsman's throat. Damian's cold gaze never wavered as he held the icy weapon steady.
Once more, the temperature in the meeting room plummeted, a chilling signal to the other three huntsmen.
"Rein in your hound, Paul!" Archer demanded, her expression betraying her concern. Damian was a formidable adversary, one they couldn't afford to engage without facing significant losses.
Paul spared a glance at the terrified Talon before locking eyes with Archer. "I suggest you do the same, or I won't be held responsible for what my 'hound' might do next!" Paul's threat hung in the air, Damian's icy weapon poised, a silent but deadly warning.
"Don't push your luck, Paul! Why defend a catastrophe?" Archer's demand cut through the tense air, seeking justification from Paul.
Despite his sympathy towards his kind, the figure before them represented nothing but a harbinger of destruction, a future murderer whose actions spared no one, a true calamity unleashed upon the world.
Talon's thoughts were interrupted as Striker, disregarding Damian's warning, swiftly dropped to the ground and delivered a powerful uppercut aimed directly at the heart of the ice blade.
The impact shattered the weapon instantly, but not without consequence. Shards of ice embedded themselves into Striker's hands, yet instead of drawing blood, they froze his fist, the icy tendrils creeping upwards.
Just as it seemed the frostbite would engulf his hand, it vanished without a trace, leaving no sign of injury on the huntsman's hand.
"Both of you STOP!" Archer's voice clearly showed authority. In normal circumstances, the two would stand down and listen to reason. But now, neither Striker gave up the idea of stopping a true catastrophe from being born, nor Damien gave up on defending Talon.
The other three huntsman sat back down on their chair, completely aware that the two wouldn't stop, and not planning to interrupt their little ruffle.
Paul just patted Talon's shoulder, "Don't worry brat, I will tell you everything in time. But now, just enjoy the show, heh." Paul did his best while trying to comfort the boy.
"A-Aren't you worried about Damian?" Asked Talon, stuttering from the overwhelming situation that he never asked for.
"Oh please, if you want to worry about someone, you should be worried about us if he decides to go all out, heh." As Paul chuckled, Talon calmed down a bit, and then the two sat down on their chairs, ready to spectate the fight.
Unbothered by the happenings around them, Damian and Striker slowly circled, observing each other's every step, their eye movement, and even their breathing.
It was striker who made the first move, his hand flew towards Damien's abdomen with staggering speed, yet before it could reach him, ice materialized from the ground, the ice shattered instantly when it made contact with Striker's fist.
Striker's vision was blocked by the ice for a moment, before he could search for Damien, he already conjured two blades of ice, slashing towards the huntsman's throat.
With inhuman reaction speed, the huntsman stepped back, his gray hair getting cut from his head.
Before Striker could distance himself even further, Damien stomped on the ground, a trail of ice traveling on the ground toward Striker, this time, he couldn't dodge the attack coming from the terrifying gifted.
The trail of ice changed into sharp shards of ice, multiple of them stabbed into the body of the Huntsman.
Talon smiled at Damien, expecting his victory. But the next moment, he could see that the four huntsman before him just smiled mysteriously, like their fellow huntsman did not get impaled by shards of ice.
The impaled Striker's previous dark expression changed as if he thought that the tides had changed. The Other three huntsman's expressions showed that too.
The ice he was impaled by started to melt, while the wounds closed on their own, not even leaving a scar. Simultaneously, Striker equipped a pair of rad gloves, that emitted heat waves.
It looked like that Striker was equipped just so he could take down Damien if things turned south. Everything is in the favor of the Huntsman, Striker.
Except Damian's expression did not show someone who looked like he had the odds stacked against him. He picked up a strange twin swordsman stance with his ice blades and just simply stood there.
Striker flashed an iron ring with a mysteriously glowing green ring and a weak yellow hue surrounding it. "Thanks to you Damien, I managed to get myself some pretty neat stuff. That bald street rat had, at least some use for in his life." Said Striker as he rubbed his ring with great satisfaction.
For the first time during their confrontation, Damian's facial expression abandoned its usual nonchalance.
"That bastard did nothing in his life but hurt others for his gain. I know… I know, but this still makes my stomach churn. But you know what? That ring will help the kid greatly. I will cut it down from your fingers!" he declared, then turned toward Talon with a sly smile on his face. "Talon, would you fancy a cool ring?"
'Is that… is that ring made from Zachary?' Talon couldn't hide his shock, he couldn't even say back a word to Damian.
"I know what you feel right now." Said Paul from beside him. "Everything the hunters wear is from beasts or us… and let me tell you, they didn't earn their fame for hunting beasts."
Before Talon could even process what was happening, the clash between Damien and Striker reignited.
The latter, now regenerated, charged at Damian with blazing gloves. In response, Damian discarded one of his ice blades then extended his left hand, took a deep breath, and exhaled.
His breath left a frosty trail that rapidly spread, almost freezing the entire room within seconds. Fortunately, Paul and Talon remained untouched by the icy blast.
On the other side of the room, an unusual shield protected them. Crafted from a mystical beast, the shield emitted a warm red glow, faintly tinged with a yellow hue.
The ice froze Striker entirely, but the flame from his gloves melted the ice in seconds, Damien did not plan to give him these seconds for free. He appeared beside him instantly and executed a swift slash with his right blade, leaving a deep cut across Striker's upper body.
Recovering from the frost, Striker pounced at Damian, managing to hit him for the first time, before he could rejoice or ignite his gloves, Damien conjured ice that shot out from his body, stabbing out the right eye of Striker who screamed out in agony but immediately distanced himself from Damian.
'Doesn't feel good, right bastard?' Talon chuckled to himself which made Paul turn his head, he felt a little disturbed while watching a 17-year-old laughing at someone who screams out in agony from having his eye stabbed out, but he didn't say anything, instead, he turned his attention back at the fight between Damian and Striker.
The bleeding stopped entirely thanks to the ring crafted by Zachary, but his eye socket became empty. "I'm going to fucking kill you first, then the child!" Roared Striker as he rushed straight at Damien, who picked up his strange twin swordsman posture again after conjuring another ice blade.
The two collided once again, exchanging blow after blow, Damien pushed back the huntsman while he delivered his wild slashes.
From Talon's perspective, it looked like a violent dance, and with the frosty aura that surrounded his eccentric savior, it truly looked like a dance of ice.
Damian completely overwhelmed the Huntsman, and he was ready to finish the bastard once and for all. With a powerful wide slash of his blades, he tried to behead him. But his blades connected with something else entirely. One of the four Huntsman, Aegis rushed to his comrade's side and deflected the blades with his shield.
"Both of you had your little fun, but you went too far you arrogant piece of shit!" Shouted the furious Aegis as he joined the battle against Damien.
As Talon watched from the sidelines, his heart began to beat loudly. This time, Damian was in real danger Paul probably couldn't do a thing, and Archer, the only one who could maybe stop them, silently sat still in her chair.
'No, no, no, no. He can't die. The first person who didn't treat us like garbage, he even saved us, he can't die!'
"Then why don't you do something for once about it in your miserable life?" A strange voice insulted him, but the source of the voice could not be seen by the young boy. He couldn't even ask anything before the voice shouted.
"Act fast, you have the means necessary to help him, yet you do nothing but sit here you usable rat!" Hearing the word, 'Rat' again, made his body tremble as he remembered his life back in the slums.
'No, I won't let him die!' Talon steeled his heart and activated his Gift, his consciousness slowly faded, while mist oozed from his body at a speed incomparable to to the times before.
In a second, the whole room was filled with the red mist. But even amongst a sea of red fog, a single blood-red eye shined like a bloodthirsty beast in search of prey.