A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

That repulsion was the only thing that kept him standing. It was as thin as a spider\'s thread, controlling his body like a puppet, as his single eye took in the broken images of the world that were now being fed to it.

The Hobgoblin came in again. Beam dodged the sword and looked for a counter – but his movements were even more sluggish now. The Hobgoblin was on him again before he even had a chance. The best he could do was continue to save his life and survive, as he brushed the blows aside with the least amount of energy that he possibly could.

The Hobgoblin sped its attacks up and in a whirl of steel, the two stood rooted to the spot, battling an impossible battle of wills in which neither would allow themselves to take a step back.

It was growing increasingly difficult to follow their movements now… And it was little Nila who\'s sharp eyes saw through the illusion first.

"Goodness… It can\'t be… The Hobgoblin is getting stronger too?" She gasped. Every time the two swords collided, there was a tremor in the air, their raw power obvious to see. And yet Beam delivered these blows with a slack shoulder, with the sloppiness of fatigue more than evident – yet they matched those of the Hobgoblin as its muscles tensed and its veins bulged.

Dominus nodded in agreement. "It would seem so… This is no normal Hobgoblin after all. We knew so many springing up so suddenly was unnatural – but for a creature of its kind to be able to grow so quickly… There is foulness afoot."

"It\'s getting stronger as well?" Greeves joined in with a frown. "I\'d thought the boy was tiring it out, that\'s why he was matching it."

"Nah… Now that you mention it, that bastard Hobgoblin is definitely getting stronger," Judas said, only realizing after Nila had said it.

"Could you take it?" Greeves asked.

Judas shook his head adamantly. "Not a chance. Not as it is now… And Gods, not for as long as the boy has. Look how much the moon has moved, boss! It\'s been ages! They\'re still fighting like dogs."

They\'d noticed the passage of time, but they\'d hardly felt it. Greeves narrowed his eyes as he glared. "Fuck. This is no good for my health, I tell you," he said, dabbing the sweat from his forehead.

Dominus regarded him with a raised eyebrow. "I would have thought you the type to give up on your investment by this point," he said.

"Damn it," Greeves said, looking away. They all knew what it was they were feeling. They knew why they\'d stayed – but Greeves would never admit to that. Not a man like him. Not someone who had committed as many heinous crimes as he had. Who had torn families apart, and tortured the innocent.

For his heart to be swayed in the least, he couldn\'t allow it. It was too childish. To feel that same hope of a youth when confronted with heroism. To dare to dream better for himself. To let that same flame ignite him.

And yet it did. Even beyond his worry for his pupil, Dominus\' own heart was stirred, as he witnessed a strength of spirit beyond which he\'d ever seen.

"The eyes truly are the windows to the soul," Dominus murmured, smiling, recalling his first encounter with the boy and those wild, sparkling eyes that had shocked him. "And he\'ll go further still. This here is a battle of will and of evolution. Whoever completes their evolution first, wins."

Such was the decision that Beam\'s own spirit had come to as he continued his fight. There were no thoughts in his head, yet his heart screamed out. "This isn\'t enough! We need more!"

He searched even deeper within himself, making the demands of his body like a ruthless general would. He felt the three great resources of power – one, his own untapped potential, stoked by years of struggle. Then the shadowy fingers of Ingolsol, begging to rule the mortal realm – and beside him keeping her at bay was Claudia, the Queen of progress.

To both of them, his soul cried out a command. "Kneel," it said.

Even gritting his teeth at this point required more energy than he had. The Hobgoblin was up so close now that Beam could smell its rancid breath as their swords locked up for an instant and slid against each other. The Hobgoblin sought to hold him there, but Beam immediately broke away for another attack.

There he was, now, beyond explanation. The boy had no speed, yet he was fast. He had no strength, yet he was strong. There was no energy to fill these basic fundamental requirements. His body was far too injured to exert itself properly. Yet, beyond explanation, with a zombie-like resilience, he overcame the physical and advanced.

The Hobgoblin forced Beam to perform to even greater heights, as he struggled to keep his life against its overwhelming intensity. His sword grew chipped from their overwhelming clashes, and the grass around their feet had long since been crushed and trampled, quickly giving way to slick mud in places, all of which Beam\'s eye drank in.

His focus was intense as his eye widened. Beyond their little radius of battle, he caught nothing. The same lack of awareness of his surroundings that Dominus had once noted now became his strength, for he could spare no distractions – he still did not know that any observers had arrived, even though they had been there for a very long time indeed by now.

He stared deep into the Hobgoblin\'s eyes as he fought it, as though he could overwhelm its intense madness with an equal and opposite force of his own. He watched those eyes for even the slightest glimmer of intent, reading even the slightest of cues to predict the Hobgoblin\'s next movements, so that he could work himself into a better position to counter.