The door at the end of the corridor burst open. Sven halted as a group of soldiers rushed out, escorting a man in royal robes who kept his head lowered, as if to avoid arrows. The soldiers, clad in deep navy blue—the color of the King's Guard—didn't stop to look at the corpses. They were prepared for the abilities of a Lightner.
Opening a side door, they pushed their charge inside, several of them pointing their spears at Sven as they backed away.
Another figure emerged from the king's quarters, clad in a gleaming blue armor made of intricately interlocked plates. Unlike ordinary armor, however, this one bore no visible leather or chain at its joints—only smaller plates, fitted together with precise craftsmanship. It was magnificent: deep blue plates with golden inlays along the edges and a helmet adorned with three rows of small, hornlike protrusions.
A suit of Soulplate—the customary complement to a Soulblade, which the newcomer also wielded; a massive weapon over six feet in length, adorned with flame-like engravings and forged from argent metal so polished it seemed to glow. A weapon built to slay shadow gods, a larger version of the one Sven held.
Sven hesitated. He didn't recognize the armor; he hadn't been warned of this task, nor given time to memorize the many Soulblade and Soulplate variants the Mitrezians possessed. But he would have to deal with this Lightner before pursuing the king. He couldn't leave such an enemy at his back.
Besides, perhaps the Lightner could defeat him—kill him and end his wretched existence. His Projections wouldn't work directly on someone shielded by Soulplate, which would also enhance the man's strength and resilience. Sven's honor wouldn't allow him to betray his mission in pursuit of death… but if it came, it would be welcome.
The Lightner attacked.
Sven launched himself to the side of the hallway, flipping to land on the wall. Then he backed off, Soulblade raised. The Lightner assumed an aggressive stance, one of the favored combat forms in the East. He moved with surprising agility for a man encased in such bulky armor. Soulplate was a wondrous tool, as ancient and magical as the Soulblades that accompanied them.
Sven didn't own armor—nor did he want it. His Projections interfered with the gems that powered Soulplate, and he had to choose one or the other.
The Lightner struck. Sven leapt to the side and projected himself to the ceiling as the opponent's blade smashed into the wall. Thrilled by the intensity of the fight, Sven dove forward, slashing down toward the Lightner's helmet.
The man ducked to his knees, and Sven's Soulblade sliced nothing but air.
Sven flipped back as the Lightner thrust upward, tearing into the ceiling, then turned to face him as Sven dashed along the roof. As expected, the Lightner struck again. Sven veered aside, rolled, and projected back to the ground, landing behind the Lightner and aiming for an exposed flank.
Unfortunately, the Soulplate offered a significant advantage: it could block a Soulblade. Sven's strike slammed hard, sending a web of glowing cracks across the rear of the armor, leaking Soulight.
Soulplate didn't dent or bend like common metals. To break through, Sven would have to strike the same spot at least twice.
With a spin, he moved out of range as the Lightner thrust fiercely at his knees. The storm within Sven gave him many advantages—including rapid healing from minor injuries. But it wouldn't restore limbs severed by a Soulblade.
Circling the Lightner, Sven chose his moment and lunged forward. The Lightner struck again, but Sven projected momentarily to the ceiling to dodge, then back to the ground. He attacked upon landing, but the Lightner recovered quickly and executed a flawless counter that narrowly missed.
The man was dangerously skilled with that blade. Many Lightners relied too heavily on the power of their weapon and armor. This one was different.
Sven jumped to the wall and launched a flurry of quick thrusts like an aggressive eel. The Lightner parried with sweeping motions. The length of his blade kept Sven at bay.
This is taking too long! Sven thought. If the king reached a proper hiding place, he would have failed his mission, no matter how many bodies lay behind him. He pressed forward and struck again, but the Lightner forced him back. Every second more of this battle was a second Gravok had to escape.
It was time to be reckless.
Sven launched himself into the air, soaring to the far end of the hallway, feet aimed at his opponent. The Lightner didn't hesitate—he struck—but Sven pushed himself downward, dropping immediately. The Soulblade sliced through the air above him. Landing in a crouch, Sven used the momentum to drive his blade into the Lightner's flank, right where the Soulplate had been cracked earlier.
The blow hit hard. That section of the Soulplate shattered, sending fragments of glowing metal into the air. The Lightner grunted, dropped to one knee, and clutched his side. Sven kicked him with soulight-boosted force.
The heavy Lightner crashed into the king's chamber doors, splintering them as he fell inward. Sven left him there and veered right, down the hallway where the king had fled. The corridor bore the same red carpet, and its soulight lamps allowed Sven to draw in fresh reserves.
Energy flared within him again, and he quickened his pace. If he was fast enough, he could deal with the king and return to finish off the Lightner. A Full Projection on a door wouldn't stop a Lightner, and that armor made the man inhumanly fast.
It wouldn't be easy.