Chapter 58
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Due to mutual agreement, the timing for breakfast had been shifted to an hour before noon, along with the start of the ceasefire. The group had long since finished their meal and were lazing around the room seemingly in a stupor. A stupor filled with schemes towards the upcoming 'training' session.
Seeing the clock on the wall was now only two ticks away from striking midday, Rykar was the first to get up, followed by the others, as they took their positions on either side of the empty area. For the last three months, this space was used almost exclusively for their sparring sessions, which only became more intense by the day.
Without fail, after each session, the twins were on the receiving end of the 'treatment' spray which was supposed to 'cure' their aches and pains. Although unwilling, they had already resigned themselves to their fates, now stripping themselves without the aid of others and standing stock still whenever it came to that fated moment. Towards the beginning, they had struggled with all their might, however, eventually they refused to allow Chance and Rob the satisfaction of seeing the discomfort it brought onto them.
A minute before noon and all of their equipment was coated in a fine layer of the waterproofing spray. Clenching and unclenching his fists, Rykar performed some light stretches across from Loki who was now swiveling his akimbo daggers between his palms confidently.
Seeing their seemingly relaxed attitude, Rob and chance felt sweat on their backs while they tried to warm themselves up. They didn't know what, but compared to the usual atmosphere in the room, something was up. And with no time to prepare any countermeasures, they could only be on the receiving end.
"Same rules as usual, or do you want to switch it up for a change?" Rob asked testily but was met with no answer as the twins continued watching the seconds hand of the clock tick away.
Just under the clock was the board with the scores still tallied up. The twins were still even as of now, while still nowhere even close to that of Chance and Rob. However, the discrepancy was no long as obvious as before. Breaking a thousand, Chance was well in the lead due to his continued sneak attacks and obvious dominance in the beginning, but this soon reached a plateau.
Rob was obviously in third place with six hundred points, while Rykar and Loki had actually drawn very close with 470 and 458 respectively. Over the months, their styles had developed in completely different directions, showing superiority in different situations. While Rykar was very suited to prolonged fights and direct confrontations, Loki gained the majority of his attacks from well times strikes which were usually followed by a swift retreat.
Looking over to Chance at his side, he was unsure as to what he should do. Usually he would step in and close the distance but, over the last month, he was gradually becoming unwilling to stand anywhere close to Loki for obvious reasons.
Without any more time to think up a contingency…
*Dong*
The sound of a bell rang through from the open window. Not only did the tone destroy the silence but also the stillness of the room. Loki bent his knees, remaining in a slightly crouched and springy posture as he inched forward with his daggers still jumping in his grasp at irregular intervals. Despite Loki's slow and deliberate footwork, all Rob could concentrate on were the dancing daggers which drew on his natural responses due to the sudden movements.
The slow advance on Rob's side was nothing like the events of the other side of the arena. Just like usual, Rykar had gone straight for him, closing the distance and sticking close to him to the point of being completely uncomfortable.
Due to his smaller size, his ability to slide in and between Chance's strikes made it that much different. He would stick close while attacking with anything that could be used, whether it be his head, shoulders, knees, toes, elbows, you name it.
Attacks would come in at unpredictable angles and timings. The biggest challenge to overcome when it came to facing Rykar's style of fighting, was the accumulation of pain over time. One finger jab in the ribs or chest was a nuisance which stung, but could be brushed off. However, six jabs in the same area? Oh, now that's a whole other kettle of fish.
Honestly, if not for the waterproofing spray which blunted not only his fingers and toes, but the sharp spikes on his elbows and knees, Chance would most likely resemble something along the lines of a beehive.
Not to mention, this intensity would continue until he was either restrained or defeated. He seemed to be like a nuclear reactor, possessing unlimited energy until the final moment where his engines totally stopped. It was like there was no concept of 'tired', only on and off.
The be 'spars' with Rykar were literally all out brawls and after nearly three months, he was getting good at taking a beating. It was a competition of who could tenderize who the best. And despite winning, Chance was definitely tender. Instead of the joy he felt at the beginning, these spars began to fill him with dread but despite trying to bargain with Rob, he refused to trade sparring partners.
At one point, he even resorted to asking Rykar if he wanted to switch partners to try something new, only for a vehement refusal. Rykar was totally and utterly driven to overcome him before moving onto anything else.
With only three days left to the auction, this was as good a time as he was going to get. Waking up, having slept with his back against a wall as usual, he had spent the entire morning going over all the experience had acquired over these months, hyping himself up from the very crack of dawn.
While Chance was taking his tenderizing session, Loki and Rob were still in a stalemate. The complete opposite of Rykar, Loki's style was comprised of hit and run tactics, using feints and misdirection to strike soft and or vital spots with precision each time. Each movement was efficient and clean, everything slotted into place with its own purpose in his game plan.
If Rykar's style was like a bull in a china shop, Loki's was more comparable to being sat down in front of a chess board. Rob would always come out in a better situation than Loki would, but that's totally due to the layer coating his daggers. In the recent half a month, if it had been an unrestricted blade, he would have had his vitals hit and bled out, if not having died instantly, many times over.
. . .
Five minutes into their brutal battle, both Rykar and Chance were covered in bruises and sweating profusely. Behind their masks, neither were able to read their opponent's expression or gather a reading on how fatigued they actually were. This sense of unknowing caused Chance to slip into a bottomless pit, feeling his energy slip away faster every second.
Struggling to hold on, he was head butted in his chest, causing him to stumble backwards a step while Rykar stuck to him tightly. He didn't even have time to completely regain his footing before an elbow shot towards his face from his bottom left. With no other options, he tilted his head upwards, taking advantage of the height difference to escape Rykar's reach.
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With the Elbow trailing under his chin, Rykar's arm suddenly extended before retracing its path, latching firmly onto Chance's head before cementing its grip with a handful of head. Pupils dilated in panic, Chance had no way of escaping when Rykar took a light jump, leveraging his opponents head in order to elevate further while forcing him down.
Feeling as though everything was moving in slow motion, Chance sighed in his mind as he saw Rykar's eyes flash behind his mask as he curled his core in on itself, dragging his knee up to meet the side of his face.
'Is this son of a bitch is trying to kill me?' Was Chance's last thought before his lights were turned out. Thoroughly.
. . .
While Chance and Rykar were getting up close and intimate on the other side, Loki and Rob had already completed multiple exchanges themselves. Rob found it too difficult to engage on Loki for any extended periods of time due to his fast strikes which would fill his heart with alarm.
Trying to put an end to his hit and run tactic, Rob began to use the rest of the room as a ring at one point, forcing Loki into a corner and locking him down finally! Who would have thought that Loki would take a mere spar seriously enough to attack with full force on his crown jewels? With no option left but to dodge, Loki used the chance to dive and roll out from the corner before once again initiating his frustratingly effective tactic. Each exchange wouldn't last more than three of four moves, after that, whether or not he landed a solid blow, he would move backwards.
While Rykar and Chance were both sweating from their furious exchange, It was only Rob who was drenched in this match up. Sweating and panting, he cursed at Loki before diving in hoping to somehow grapple him to the ground.
Within the range of Rob's closing arms, Loki didn't move to evade, instead pushing his daggers forward simultaneously, striking at Rob's armpit and pelvis. Whether or not these would be clean strikes, he knew he would regret it for a long time if he continued. Forcing himself to roll of his left leg, Rob swirled around the blades but was once again at the same distance from his target as he was initially.
"Fuck!" He finally swore in between a breath. Unable to think of another way out of the situation, he decided he would go all or nothing. At the end of the day, as long as he doesn't lose, everything was fine. If he was hurt too badly tomorrow, then that would only give him an excuse to postpone any other matches for the foreseeable future.
Taking a forceful step forward, he planned to drive Loki into a corner once again but was astonished to find that instead of maintaining the same distance, Loki took a step to his left before both blades flashed. Assuming a backhanded grip, he lunged forward at a low angle, striking level with Robs thigh.
Similar to Chance, dealing with the height difference was once fun but now it was nothing but detrimental. Crouching down and lowering his blades to block the strike, he literally lost his mind as he watched Loki's daggers swerve into the ground around half a metre in front of him.
With his eyes focused so intently on the odd movements of Loki's daggers, he didn't have time to comprehend the change in Loki's body movements.
It wasn't simply the two daggers that had rotated downwards and his strike gone off target. Loki's entire body was now airborne as he performed a summersault fueled by the momentum of the initial lunge. The blades which were initially moving forward were then replaced by his feet as he reached 180 degrees, which gradually increased in size and definition as they honed in on Rob's face.
It wasn't even fifteen minutes past noon when the same thought was repeated once again.
'Is this son of a bitch trying to kill me?' Lights out.
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Due to mutual agreement, the timing for breakfast had been shifted to an hour before noon, along with the start of the ceasefire. The group had long since finished their meal and were lazing around the room seemingly in a stupor. A stupor filled with schemes towards the upcoming 'training' session.
Seeing the clock on the wall was now only two ticks away from striking midday, Rykar was the first to get up, followed by the others, as they took their positions on either side of the empty area. For the last three months, this space was used almost exclusively for their sparring sessions, which only became more intense by the day.
Without fail, after each session, the twins were on the receiving end of the 'treatment' spray which was supposed to 'cure' their aches and pains. Although unwilling, they had already resigned themselves to their fates, now stripping themselves without the aid of others and standing stock still whenever it came to that fated moment. Towards the beginning, they had struggled with all their might, however, eventually they refused to allow Chance and Rob the satisfaction of seeing the discomfort it brought onto them.
A minute before noon and all of their equipment was coated in a fine layer of the waterproofing spray. Clenching and unclenching his fists, Rykar performed some light stretches across from Loki who was now swiveling his akimbo daggers between his palms confidently.
Seeing their seemingly relaxed attitude, Rob and chance felt sweat on their backs while they tried to warm themselves up. They didn't know what, but compared to the usual atmosphere in the room, something was up. And with no time to prepare any countermeasures, they could only be on the receiving end.
"Same rules as usual, or do you want to switch it up for a change?" Rob asked testily but was met with no answer as the twins continued watching the seconds hand of the clock tick away.
Just under the clock was the board with the scores still tallied up. The twins were still even as of now, while still nowhere even close to that of Chance and Rob. However, the discrepancy was no long as obvious as before. Breaking a thousand, Chance was well in the lead due to his continued sneak attacks and obvious dominance in the beginning, but this soon reached a plateau.
Rob was obviously in third place with six hundred points, while Rykar and Loki had actually drawn very close with 470 and 458 respectively. Over the months, their styles had developed in completely different directions, showing superiority in different situations. While Rykar was very suited to prolonged fights and direct confrontations, Loki gained the majority of his attacks from well times strikes which were usually followed by a swift retreat.
Looking over to Chance at his side, he was unsure as to what he should do. Usually he would step in and close the distance but, over the last month, he was gradually becoming unwilling to stand anywhere close to Loki for obvious reasons.
Without any more time to think up a contingency…
*Dong*
The sound of a bell rang through from the open window. Not only did the tone destroy the silence but also the stillness of the room. Loki bent his knees, remaining in a slightly crouched and springy posture as he inched forward with his daggers still jumping in his grasp at irregular intervals. Despite Loki's slow and deliberate footwork, all Rob could concentrate on were the dancing daggers which drew on his natural responses due to the sudden movements.
The slow advance on Rob's side was nothing like the events of the other side of the arena. Just like usual, Rykar had gone straight for him, closing the distance and sticking close to him to the point of being completely uncomfortable.
Due to his smaller size, his ability to slide in and between Chance's strikes made it that much different. He would stick close while attacking with anything that could be used, whether it be his head, shoulders, knees, toes, elbows, you name it.
Attacks would come in at unpredictable angles and timings. The biggest challenge to overcome when it came to facing Rykar's style of fighting, was the accumulation of pain over time. One finger jab in the ribs or chest was a nuisance which stung, but could be brushed off. However, six jabs in the same area? Oh, now that's a whole other kettle of fish.
Honestly, if not for the waterproofing spray which blunted not only his fingers and toes, but the sharp spikes on his elbows and knees, Chance would most likely resemble something along the lines of a beehive.
Not to mention, this intensity would continue until he was either restrained or defeated. He seemed to be like a nuclear reactor, possessing unlimited energy until the final moment where his engines totally stopped. It was like there was no concept of 'tired', only on and off.
The be 'spars' with Rykar were literally all out brawls and after nearly three months, he was getting good at taking a beating. It was a competition of who could tenderize who the best. And despite winning, Chance was definitely tender. Instead of the joy he felt at the beginning, these spars began to fill him with dread but despite trying to bargain with Rob, he refused to trade sparring partners.
At one point, he even resorted to asking Rykar if he wanted to switch partners to try something new, only for a vehement refusal. Rykar was totally and utterly driven to overcome him before moving onto anything else.
With only three days left to the auction, this was as good a time as he was going to get. Waking up, having slept with his back against a wall as usual, he had spent the entire morning going over all the experience had acquired over these months, hyping himself up from the very crack of dawn.
While Chance was taking his tenderizing session, Loki and Rob were still in a stalemate. The complete opposite of Rykar, Loki's style was comprised of hit and run tactics, using feints and misdirection to strike soft and or vital spots with precision each time. Each movement was efficient and clean, everything slotted into place with its own purpose in his game plan.
If Rykar's style was like a bull in a china shop, Loki's was more comparable to being sat down in front of a chess board. Rob would always come out in a better situation than Loki would, but that's totally due to the layer coating his daggers. In the recent half a month, if it had been an unrestricted blade, he would have had his vitals hit and bled out, if not having died instantly, many times over.
. . .
Five minutes into their brutal battle, both Rykar and Chance were covered in bruises and sweating profusely. Behind their masks, neither were able to read their opponent's expression or gather a reading on how fatigued they actually were. This sense of unknowing caused Chance to slip into a bottomless pit, feeling his energy slip away faster every second.
Struggling to hold on, he was head butted in his chest, causing him to stumble backwards a step while Rykar stuck to him tightly. He didn't even have time to completely regain his footing before an elbow shot towards his face from his bottom left. With no other options, he tilted his head upwards, taking advantage of the height difference to escape Rykar's reach.
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With the Elbow trailing under his chin, Rykar's arm suddenly extended before retracing its path, latching firmly onto Chance's head before cementing its grip with a handful of head. Pupils dilated in panic, Chance had no way of escaping when Rykar took a light jump, leveraging his opponents head in order to elevate further while forcing him down.
Feeling as though everything was moving in slow motion, Chance sighed in his mind as he saw Rykar's eyes flash behind his mask as he curled his core in on itself, dragging his knee up to meet the side of his face.
'Is this son of a bitch is trying to kill me?' Was Chance's last thought before his lights were turned out. Thoroughly.
. . .
While Chance and Rykar were getting up close and intimate on the other side, Loki and Rob had already completed multiple exchanges themselves. Rob found it too difficult to engage on Loki for any extended periods of time due to his fast strikes which would fill his heart with alarm.
Trying to put an end to his hit and run tactic, Rob began to use the rest of the room as a ring at one point, forcing Loki into a corner and locking him down finally! Who would have thought that Loki would take a mere spar seriously enough to attack with full force on his crown jewels? With no option left but to dodge, Loki used the chance to dive and roll out from the corner before once again initiating his frustratingly effective tactic. Each exchange wouldn't last more than three of four moves, after that, whether or not he landed a solid blow, he would move backwards.
While Rykar and Chance were both sweating from their furious exchange, It was only Rob who was drenched in this match up. Sweating and panting, he cursed at Loki before diving in hoping to somehow grapple him to the ground.
Within the range of Rob's closing arms, Loki didn't move to evade, instead pushing his daggers forward simultaneously, striking at Rob's armpit and pelvis. Whether or not these would be clean strikes, he knew he would regret it for a long time if he continued. Forcing himself to roll of his left leg, Rob swirled around the blades but was once again at the same distance from his target as he was initially.
"Fuck!" He finally swore in between a breath. Unable to think of another way out of the situation, he decided he would go all or nothing. At the end of the day, as long as he doesn't lose, everything was fine. If he was hurt too badly tomorrow, then that would only give him an excuse to postpone any other matches for the foreseeable future.
Taking a forceful step forward, he planned to drive Loki into a corner once again but was astonished to find that instead of maintaining the same distance, Loki took a step to his left before both blades flashed. Assuming a backhanded grip, he lunged forward at a low angle, striking level with Robs thigh.
Similar to Chance, dealing with the height difference was once fun but now it was nothing but detrimental. Crouching down and lowering his blades to block the strike, he literally lost his mind as he watched Loki's daggers swerve into the ground around half a metre in front of him.
With his eyes focused so intently on the odd movements of Loki's daggers, he didn't have time to comprehend the change in Loki's body movements.
It wasn't simply the two daggers that had rotated downwards and his strike gone off target. Loki's entire body was now airborne as he performed a summersault fueled by the momentum of the initial lunge. The blades which were initially moving forward were then replaced by his feet as he reached 180 degrees, which gradually increased in size and definition as they honed in on Rob's face.
It wasn't even fifteen minutes past noon when the same thought was repeated once again.
'Is this son of a bitch trying to kill me?' Lights out.
Due to mutual agreement, the timing for breakfast had been shifted to an hour before noon, along with the start of the ceasefire. The group had long since finished their meal and were lazing around the room seemingly in a stupor. A stupor filled with schemes towards the upcoming 'training' session.Seeing the clock on the wall was now only two ticks away from striking midday, Rykar was the first to get up, followed by the others, as they took their positions on either side of the empty area. For the last three months, this space was used almost exclusively for their sparring sessions, which only became more intense by the day.Without fail, after each session, the twins were on the receiving end of the 'treatment' spray which was supposed to 'cure' their aches and pains. Although unwilling, they had already resigned themselves to their fates, now stripping themselves without the aid of others and standing stock still whenever it came to that fated moment. Towards the beginning, they had struggled with all their might, however, eventually they refused to allow Chance and Rob the satisfaction of seeing the discomfort it brought onto them.A minute before noon and all of their equipment was coated in a fine layer of the waterproofing spray. Clenching and unclenching his fists, Rykar performed some light stretches across from Loki who was now swiveling his akimbo daggers between his palms confidently.Seeing their seemingly relaxed attitude, Rob and chance felt sweat on their backs while they tried to warm themselves up. They didn't know what, but compared to the usual atmosphere in the room, something was up. And with no time to prepare any countermeasures, they could only be on the receiving end."Same rules as usual, or do you want to switch it up for a change?" Rob asked testily but was met with no answer as the twins continued watching the seconds hand of the clock tick away.Just under the clock was the board with the scores still tallied up. The twins were still even as of now, while still nowhere even close to that of Chance and Rob. However, the discrepancy was no long as obvious as before. Breaking a thousand, Chance was well in the lead due to his continued sneak attacks and obvious dominance in the beginning, but this soon reached a plateau.Rob was obviously in third place with six hundred points, while Rykar and Loki had actually drawn very close with 470 and 458 respectively. Over the months, their styles had developed in completely different directions, showing superiority in different situations. While Rykar was very suited to prolonged fights and direct confrontations, Loki gained the majority of his attacks from well times strikes which were usually followed by a swift retreat.Looking over to Chance at his side, he was unsure as to what he should do. Usually he would step in and close the distance but, over the last month, he was gradually becoming unwilling to stand anywhere close to Loki for obvious reasons.Without any more time to think up a contingency*Dong*The sound of a bell rang through from the open window. Not only did the tone destroy the silence but also the stillness of the room. Loki bent his knees, remaining in a slightly crouched and springy posture as he inched forward with his daggers still jumping in his grasp at irregular intervals. Despite Loki's slow and deliberate footwork, all Rob could concentrate on were the dancing daggers which drew on his natural responses due to the sudden movements.The slow advance on Rob's side was nothing like the events of the other side of the arena. Just like usual, Rykar had gone straight for him, closing the distance and sticking close to him to the point of being completely uncomfortable.Due to his smaller size, his ability to slide in and between Chance's strikes made it that much different. He would stick close while attacking with anything that could be used, whether it be his head, shoulders, knees, toes, elbows, you name it.Attacks would come in at unpredictable angles and timings. The biggest challenge to overcome when it came to facing Rykar's style of fighting, was the accumulation of pain over time. One finger jab in the ribs or chest was a nuisance which stung, but could be brushed off. However, six jabs in the same area? Oh, now that's a whole other kettle of fish.Honestly, if not for the waterproofing spray which blunted not only his fingers and toes, but the sharp spikes on his elbows and knees, Chance would most likely resemble something along the lines of a beehive.Not to mention, this intensity would continue until he was either restrained or defeated. He seemed to be like a nuclear reactor, possessing unlimited energy until the final moment where his engines totally stopped. It was like there was no concept of 'tired', only on and off.The be 'spars' with Rykar were literally all out brawls and after nearly three months, he was getting good at taking a beating. It was a competition of who could tenderize who the best. And despite winning, Chance was definitely tender. Instead of the joy he felt at the beginning, these spars began to fill him with dread but despite trying to bargain with Rob, he refused to trade sparring partners.At one point, he even resorted to asking Rykar if he wanted to switch partners to try something new, only for a vehement refusal. Rykar was totally and utterly driven to overcome him before moving onto anything else.With only three days left to the auction, this was as good a time as he was going to get. Waking up, having slept with his back against a wall as usual, he had spent the entire morning going over all the experience had acquired over these months, hyping himself up from the very crack of dawn.While Chance was taking his tenderizing session, Loki and Rob were still in a stalemate. The complete opposite of Rykar, Loki's style was comprised of hit and run tactics, using feints and misdirection to strike soft and or vital spots with precision each time. Each movement was efficient and clean, everything slotted into place with its own purpose in his game plan.If Rykar's style was like a bull in a china shop, Loki's was more comparable to being sat down in front of a chess board. Rob would always come out in a better situation than Loki would, but that's totally due to the layer coating his daggers. In the recent half a month, if it had been an unrestricted blade, he would have had his vitals hit and bled out, if not having died instantly, many times over.. . .Five minutes into their brutal battle, both Rykar and Chance were covered in bruises and sweating profusely. Behind their masks, neither were able to read their opponent's expression or gather a reading on how fatigued they actually were. This sense of unknowing caused Chance to slip into a bottomless pit, feeling his energy slip away faster every second.Struggling to hold on, he was head butted in his chest, causing him to stumble backwards a step while Rykar stuck to him tightly. He didn't even have time to completely regain his footing before an elbow shot towards his face from his bottom left. With no other options, he tilted his head upwards, taking advantage of the height difference to escape Rykar's reach.Find authorized novels in Webnovelfaster updates, better experiencePlease click www.webnovel.com for visiting. With the Elbow trailing under his chin, Rykar's arm suddenly extended before retracing its path, latching firmly onto Chance's head before cementing its grip with a handful of head. Pupils dilated in panic, Chance had no way of escaping when Rykar took a light jump, leveraging his opponents head in order to elevate further while forcing him down.Feeling as though everything was moving in slow motion, Chance sighed in his mind as he saw Rykar's eyes flash behind his mask as he curled his core in on itself, dragging his knee up to meet the side of his face.'Is this son of a bitch is trying to kill me?' Was Chance's last thought before his lights were turned out. Thoroughly.. . .While Chance and Rykar were getting up close and intimate on the other side, Loki and Rob had already completed multiple exchanges themselves. Rob found it too difficult to engage on Loki for any extended periods of time due to his fast strikes which would fill his heart with alarm.Trying to put an end to his hit and run tactic, Rob began to use the rest of the room as a ring at one point, forcing Loki into a corner and locking him down finally! Who would have thought that Loki would take a mere spar seriously enough to attack with full force on his crown jewels? With no option left but to dodge, Loki used the chance to dive and roll out from the corner before once again initiating his frustratingly effective tactic. Each exchange wouldn't last more than three of four moves, after that, whether or not he landed a solid blow, he would move backwards.While Rykar and Chance were both sweating from their furious exchange, It was only Rob who was drenched in this match up. Sweating and panting, he cursed at Loki before diving in hoping to somehow grapple him to the ground.Within the range of Rob's closing arms, Loki didn't move to evade, instead pushing his daggers forward simultaneously, striking at Rob's armpit and pelvis. Whether or not these would be clean strikes, he knew he would regret it for a long time if he continued. Forcing himself to roll of his left leg, Rob swirled around the blades but was once again at the same distance from his target as he was initially."Fuck!" He finally swore in between a breath. Unable to think of another way out of the situation, he decided he would go all or nothing. At the end of the day, as long as he doesn't lose, everything was fine. If he was hurt too badly tomorrow, then that would only give him an excuse to postpone any other matches for the foreseeable future.Taking a forceful step forward, he planned to drive Loki into a corner once again but was astonished to find that instead of maintaining the same distance, Loki took a step to his left before both blades flashed. Assuming a backhanded grip, he lunged forward at a low angle, striking level with Robs thigh.Similar to Chance, dealing with the height difference was once fun but now it was nothing but detrimental. Crouching down and lowering his blades to block the strike, he literally lost his mind as he watched Loki's daggers swerve into the ground around half a metre in front of him.With his eyes focused so intently on the odd movements of Loki's daggers, he didn't have time to comprehend the change in Loki's body movements.It wasn't simply the two daggers that had rotated downwards and his strike gone off target. Loki's entire body was now airborne as he performed a summersault fueled by the momentum of the initial lunge. The blades which were initially moving forward were then replaced by his feet as he reached 180 degrees, which gradually increased in size and definition as they honed in on Rob's face.It wasn't even fifteen minutes past noon when the same thought was repeated once again.'Is this son of a bitch trying to kill me?' Lights out.
