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As Joe slid around the corner, he stopped and froze a bit. He’d already fought one of these on the lower floor, but never a higher one like this two core one. All the two core ones, like the spark and slime, had gotten bigger, although the slime had grown at quite a bit more than the spark, growing to almost his height at three core, although it was still a good foot or two shorter than him. The spark had grown larger, but only slightly, only doubling in size by its ten core size. This one seemed unchanged in size compared to its cousin on the third floor. However, the snow seemed to have coalesced into a more proper spherical shape while also seeming to grow some ‘fins’ all over its body in some form of pattern Joe found difficult to figure out.
He stepped back and went back to his back, slipping out a large buckler to fit on his left forearm which didn’t require his hand to grip. Seating it firmly on the bracer designed for it, Joe headed back out to fight.
The snow still twirled in the middle of the room without any seeming concern. While how he could ‘read’ the expression of a snowball with fins certainly confused him, Joe was fairly certain he knew what the snowball was ‘thinking.’ It was calm and unconcerned. Reading his opponents was something that had been drilled into him since he was a kid so while the unusual opponents threw him for a loop, his experience killing several dozen on the third floor let him know the difference between a snow that was relaxed in contrast to those which were agitated and spoiling for a fight.
Huh. Skills for a global socie… wait, no… a galactic society. Joe felt a bit of hysterical humor bubbling up inside, his nerves fraying a bit. He glanced up at the snow a bit, noticing it was still having a merry time and took the moment to step back and close his eyes, focusing on calming down. No time to fall apart now, still another dozen stats to get to my minimum. Then I can take a rest.
A few breaths to calm himself and Joe snapped his eyes open again, his thoughts slipping away, his body loosening, surroundings fading into a cloudy unimportance while the snow took on a hyper clarity in his sight; the white of the snow brilliant against the unimportant walls, the fins of the snow highlighted as an unknown as Joe worried about what danger they might have.
Caution at ten meters, snow focused now, fins spinning when in caution, subtle glow on fins edges at five meters, spinning faster. Joe came forward and settled into his stance where he felt comfortable, close enough to initiate a strike but far enough to retreat if necessary. He waited.
The snow slipped forward, fins spinning and glowing and Joe was glad he had his wooden clubs. Magic seems to like to screw with physics. At least my wooden clubs should insulate my … wait, magic screws with physics… will wood do anything? Joe began chasing the rabbit down a meaningless trail and wrenched himself back to the fight.
The snow charged towards Joe as it began glowing brighter and spinning faster. Suddenly, it stopped with a fin pointed directly at Joe and the glow from the other fins seemed to dim and crawl amorphously but rapidly across the snow’s surface towards the fin facing Joe. The fin brightened rapidly and Joe reflexively shifted his left forward, bringing up the bracer to cover his chest while dropping quickly and scuttling to the left to try and throw off the snow. Really wish I’d used the bigger shield.
Sliding quickly, Joe tried to duck and weave a bit and quickly noticed that the fin continued to face directly towards him, seemingly pointed directly at a spot about half way between heart and throat. He brought the buckler up to block his throat and upper chest and continued his rapid movements with much more relief as he saw the fin still pointed directly at his upper chest and throat. He was conflicted, glad to have his buckler seemingly blocking the snow’s strike, but concerned with how the snow seemed to know where to strike him. Intelligence? Instinct? But most animals go for the throat? So…
Joe grunted, the fin striking him with physical force that actually punched Joe back and would have landed him on his back if he hadn’t had the training to take falls. When the fin hit his shield, the strike hammered into the buckler and slammed the buckler and forearm back into Joe’s left bicep, shoving him backwards. He felt himself falling and simply crumpled, letting the strike push him back while rolling backwards. He had to fight the urge to tug his head forward to protect it from the fall and jerked his head back, allowing the fin to deflect off the buckler and pass just under his jaw as he fell backwards onto his right shoulder. He then quickly tucked his head forward and left so he could roll over his right shoulder and completed a backwards somersault before he came back to his feet and leapt to the right quickly to dodge any follow up strike.
His leap to the right didn’t do much as the snow seemed to have put most of its effort into the strike although it did charge forward to continue fighting, and Joe’s sudden leap to the right put Joe out of range. Even as he leapt without thought, his eye’s fixed back on the snow immediately and followed the snow’s movement, seeing it dash forward to continue the fight and Joe saw it was settling into a fight similar to the one core snows on the third floor.
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Joe glided through the air, his mind racing in thought even as he seemed to float. More aggressive. Slightly faster. One more strong attack; flashy lights. Still basic snow attacks. Joe’s legs flexed, preparing to charge into the fight as he saw the snow settling into a basic fight. His legs collapsed slightly more under him than would be normal as he dipped a bit deeper than necessary to cushion his landing and quickly turned his landing into a leap back to the snow. Left forward. Buckler up. Twist, right club into side.
Joe’s left arm dangled at his side even as his right hand club came screaming into the snow’s left side as he twisted his torso heavily. The club hit the snow, splashing into its side hard as a puff of snow scattered into the air. Left back, right forward. Twist, left club strike to right!
What? Why… Joe leapt back with some confusion as he realized he’d missed the snow with the left strike but then quickly realized he had no feeling of any kind in his left arm. He brought his arm and buckler up in front of him and blinked when he realized it wasn’t moving. He felt nothing. Left arms …
The snow swiveled towards him and charged once again, Joe dropping his thoughts about his left arm and also leapt towards the snow, but aiming too far to the left, bringing his right arm up in a hard swing using the momentum of his leap as well, aiming to strike the snow in the exact same location, the club pounding down in the small crater on its left side.
Another poof of snow exploded into the air and Joe turned his leap into a dash, running past and behind the snow while also turning and keeping himself face on to the snow. The snow didn’t seem inconvenienced by the powdered snow hanging in the air and turned to chase Joe easily enough. No sight? Doesn’t need it? Joe pondered even as he kept moving to the side around the snow.
Wait… repairing itself! Joe leapt forward almost immediately once again, in a bit of a frenzy when he saw the snow slowly pulling powdered snow out of the air and into the crevice he’d beaten into the snow with his two strikes. His strike hammered down once again, but this time he couldn’t get his club to land in the same crack as before since the snow didn’t seem really turn to face him. Huh, omnidirectional attack!
Joe didn’t ponder on that and continued to hammer the snow with forehand and back hand strikes that soon had the room covered in a beautiful haze of white crystal. Joe soon found his breath fogging the air around him, but didn’t think much of it, simply keeping up his strikes while dodging what the snow threw back, the temperature still plummeting.
Soon, the snow stopped and began to quiver, charging its frost wave attack and Joe didn’t feel comfortable trying to block that attack with his buckler when he’d already lost the use of his left arm. He turned and sprinted away from the snow, leaving it behind easily and turned when he’d reached about ten or fifteen meters away from it. He waited, tense, until the snow released its frost wave, then sprinted as quickly as he could perpendicular to the frost wave. The wave raced towards where he had been standing and Joe smiled as he cut in, passing the wave on his left and began to hammer against the snow once more, although he shivered violently as the temperature seemed to have dropped significantly more in only a few seconds. Not much time, gotta get it fast!
Joe began to wildly hammer at its left side, his cudgel pounding into the same fissure as his original strike and soon had a deep wound into its innards. His strikes were rapid, but controlled, and offered some relief as his body temperature rose, struggling against the overwhelming cold. His strikes hammered home a few more times until he finally heard a crack and suddenly his left arm began to deeply ache, the numbness fading. Joe grimaced, teeth grinding as a bone deep freeze echoed painfully throughout his left arm and he looked up, worried about the snow’s next strike.
But the snow lay crumpled at his feet, a simple pile of snow that seemed to have lost all coherence and fallen as just a lump of snow. Joe stepped back and found pieces of a shattered core laying around the ground at his feet. Most of it must be buried in the snow still. Doesn’t seem to be enough for a two core? Broken though, so doesn’t matter.
Joe turned his thoughts away from the snow and slipped his right club into a sheath. He looked to his left hand and found he still held the left club, although his whole arm held a blue tinge that really made Joe nervous about frost bite. He grimaced and began moving his arm. The grimace turned to a growl as the pain intensified. The arm moved, with the sound of crackling ice and Joe pushed himself to keep moving his arm. Need to get the blood moving, get some heat into it.
He began moving it, slowly, raising it up slowly and twisting it around in a full range. Even as his arm warmed up, its movement growing in range and speed, Joe felt his core drop, a violent shivering coming over him. A sigh slipped through his lips. Well… crap! Cold blood into my torso… not … good.
Joe took a few steps away from the corpse of the snow and quickly sat down on the ground where began balancing with his feet in the air and torso leaning back, legs and torso in a V shape, or boat, as his abdominals began working hard to keep his body upright. He began rolling his body from the boat onto his right arm into a one handed side plank before he continued rolling face down into a more traditional plank and one handed push up, pushing his abdominals and pecks to burn. He did a few pushups before he let his frozen left arm join in with only a few reps then onto his left hand to do a left sided plank before rolling onto his back and returning to the original boat. He continued this until he felt the his core temperature return to normal and then added his left arm back into the exercises with more and more frequency until he felt like his arm was back to normal.
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