Zeke drops a fist to his stomach. "One," he whispers to himself.
He vanishes.
Before his enemies can make a move he reappears, slamming his blade into the closest of the skinny beasts.
It's sent sprawling, but Zeke cannot rest.
He throws his blade backwards, parrying an oncoming claw. Bouncing off its force, he rolls beneath a high swing from the second.
Once stood he whirls around.
Two quick slices and a parry. His feet dig in, locking strength with the beasts claw.
His eyes flicker, the second comes at him.
Zeke pushes off.
Swipes and blows come thick and fast; the first joining the second in assault. It takes all of Zeke's agility to keep from being struck. All of his skill to keep from a severe injury.
A stray claw comes in. He's unprepared.
He edges away. His path is blocked by an oncoming crawler.
His fist drops to his stomach.
He disappears.
His shoes drag up grass upon reappearing, hoping for friction to halt his speed.
"Two."
His eyes open wide. An aura is sensed. Behind him.
He throws himself down. Rolling from danger.
He finds his feet. His brow creases. He needs to even the numbers.
He focuses his Xylex upon the hand wrapped around the handle of his blade, charging sparks of static.
A crawler comes. He's not ready.
Still focussing his blade, Zeke sidesteps the blow. Tufts of dirt scatter upon impact.
An enemy comes in at his blindside. His senses letting him down. The back of a claw throws his balance.
His blade is charged.
As the crawler raises a claw to finish its prey, Zeke hammers his electric blade into its ribs.
The claw stops in a single moment, statuesque.
Zeke adjusts his grip. In one fatal swoop he lashes out, a second blow slicing straight through its ribs.
A bright glow emanates from the wound, but Zeke cannot stand and admire.
He retreats, taking a few steps to distance himself from the two remaining crawlers. A moment of consideration breaks his mind, debating another burst to escape and reassess. Though, he's already expelled two of his bursts, so in wasting a third would be risky, especially with two more opponents.
Zeke decides against it, instead swinging a stray blow to keep the crawlers far enough at bay.
He takes in a quick gasp of much needed air. His heart pummels his ribs.
Darting in he exchanges blows with the crawlers. No openings appear. Instead Zeke finds himself blocking, parrying and retreating, waiting patiently for his moment to strike.
The crawler's attacks are random and fierce, but several seasons of hunting offer him an upper hand when predicting their movements.
One of the Crawlers lashes out, over exerting their position.
His opportunity opens.
He swoops low, avoiding the spring of the nalite. His grip tightens. His blade charges.
Another step predicts the wayward strike of the other. He pivots, switching his stance
The charge completes.
The exposed nalite gains composure. Too late. Zeke's blade drives into its lower back.
Its skin breaks. Energy absorbed. The nalite stops still.
Leaving the nalite be, Zeke focusses on the only enemy in motion.
He wouldn’t waste any more time or energy. He needs this fight to finish.
Hand to stomach. Disappear. The nalite stops still. Zeke’s blade piercing through its stomach, raising out of its spiny back.
"Three."
He falls to his knees, sweat drips from dampened strands of thick hair.
A bright light glows about the break. This time, he awaits its final breath. In a flash of intense light the crawlers thick skin erodes until completely gone. All that's left is two floating orbs.
Zeke grins through heavy panting. He'll never grow tired of watching such a phenomenon. As much as he loves fighting the beasts, he adores seeing their changing from life-form to orb. In his mind it's even more beautiful than a sunset or a starlit sky.
With a heave seeming heavy enough to pull a tree from its roots, Zeke precedes to the final crawler; the beast he left paralysed just a few moments ago. Completely static, the beast seems almost calm. A claw covers the majority of its face and chest, though without the ability to move, it won't take much to finish it off.
Zeke points the tip of his blade about its weak point, just below the ribs. He doesn't savour the kill, and neither does he prolong it. He respects the crawlers too much to cause one grief. This will be quick and clean.
The tip is forced through. In a similar fashion to the others, a glow emerges. With corroding skin, the crawler is replaced with identical orbs, floating intertwined as the others before them.
For a moment Zeke stands in awe as the orbs dance in the open space before him. A soft wind caresses his cheek, rustling along the grass below and the masses of leaves held within the countless trees all around.
With another heavy breath the boy drops down to the ground. He'd focus his aura to check his energy levels, though he knows it to be worthless. He's almost drained.
Up above a cloud passes in the shape of a dancing lady. A calmness fills Zeke's being. His eyelids grow heavy.
Though his work isn't yet complete. Soon he'lł have to finish the job, but for now he can rest his depleting aura.
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