Darkness fell over the village of Baile, as the grumbling orc and his dark-haired companion approached the large mansion on the edge of town. The miniature castle was lit up so brightly the stars in the sky couldn’t be seen, the ominous orb of the moon floated amongst the clouds a dozen miles over Capital City, far south from the pair.

“Ilgar what the Hell is that?” Michaelis whisper-shouted to his companion, as the pair looked down on the massive estate from the cliff’s edge.

“It’s a sword.” He stated bluntly, pulling the immense greatsword from his back, holding it in his right hand.

“Yes, I gathered, but how on earth did you get the Sand Gods weapon?”

“I asked the guildmaster, I left my axe somewhere and I can’t find it.”

Michaelis rubbed the bridge of his nose as he took a deep breath, beginning to slide down the cliff face, before being followed by Ilgar who held his new weapon high in the air.

“I decided to call it The Mind Blade,” Ilgar commented, being ignored by Michaelis.

“Do you want to know why I called it that?” He continued, the pair landing on the paved ground just outside of the mansion, approaching the grand doors. “Because it’s like it has a mind of its-” Michaelis cut the orc off, his face turning red.

“Ilgar I don’t care!” He roared, the large wooden doors swinging open, a man in a white toga stepping out of the building. Within the man’s hands were dozens of jewels, with brown sandals under his feet and long black hair. The pair of mercenaries stared at the man for seconds, which felt like hours.

“Shit!” The man shouted, dropping all of his gemstones before running back inside the home, slamming the wooden doors behind himself. Ilgar immediately charged a blast within his metal palm, as he ran towards the large doors and unleashed his power straight ahead.

“Dandelion!” He roared, throwing his right hand into the entrance of the estate, a massive yellow burst of power erupting and eviscerating the front of the building, revealing the interior.

The pair entered the foyer of the mansion, a staircase leading upstairs on either side in front of the god hunters. A deep hallway stretched dead ahead of the pair, though the greener warrior ignored it as he dashed forward. The orc launched an explosion below himself with his left hand, skipping the stairs entirely, landing on the landing with a thud, a bridge connecting either side of the staircases, with the man that the pair chased down arriving at just the tip of the left stairwell.

Yellow thunder roared around the orc’s hands, fists clenched in front of himself before the warrior aimed those fists backwards. Crackles emitted from the green and metal hands, before explosions burst, rocketing the orc like a missile towards his target. “Dandelion!” He bellowed, charging an additional blast in his metal hand as he closed in on his target.

“Trathnona!” The toga-wearing man screamed, covering his face with his arms, as a woman erupted from the wall to the right of Ilgar, her head and legs tucked tight like a ball as she smashed through the masonry. The human-appearing woman rocketed her leg upwards mid-air, slamming against Ilgar’s elbow from below, knocking his metal arm into the air. The golden blast escaped his hand, intended for the fleeing party, it decimated the ceiling above, leaving a gaping hole and causing rubble to rain down.

The woman landed on the ground amidst the roof debris, with brown cheek length hair bobbing faintly. Her body was covered with black leather, mixed with iron armour across her body, and upon her head were a pair of bulls horns that extended from the sides of her temple.

“Rio, take your leave,” She spat on the ground, as she cracked her knuckles, “I’m going to show this green freak my wrath.” She announced with a callous glare toward the orc.

Ilgar shuffled his feet into a battle stance, as he formed a red sphere in his left hand. The orcs fingers dug into the ball, as it was absorbed by each individual digit, five smaller red orbs resting on the tip of each feeler.

“You’re a lifesaver Trathnona!” The man announced, rushing further down the upstairs hall, before smashing through a window and falling out of the building. Michaelis looked up towards the landing of the two staircases, where Ilgar faced off the horned warrior, stopped in his tracks.

In the corner of his left eye, Ilgar noticed his ally, roaring as he kept his gaze focused on the fighter that had obstructed him. “He just ran outside! Chase after him! I’ll handle her!” The orc’s enemy looked to the remnants of the building doors in confusion, causing an opening Ilgar immediately ceased. The green-skinned goliath thrust his left hand forward, the five blazing blasts leaving his control and zooming towards his opponent.

The five orbs of power diced through the air, the woman dashing forward and evading each blast effortlessly before closing the gap between herself and her foe. “Rhinoceros Thrust!” She yelled, slamming her left elbow into Ilgar’s stomach from below, raising him off of the ground. She leapt into the air as Ilgar’s eyes popped out of his head, pain painting his face, before a roundhouse kick slammed into his right arm, launching him downwards to the first floor, having him bounce off the ground and ricochet out the hole left in the front door.

Ilgar landed, scraping across the stone decking and coughing from the damage he had taken, with the woman leaping down to the foyer floor shortly after, touching down with a powerful thud and a menacing smile stretching across her face. “I’m disappointed, for assassins you’re not only not very sneaky, but you’re also not very well informed.” She goaded, the ground beneath her as she landed completely shattered and reformed by the physical force she exuded.

Ilgar rangled himself to his feet, bringing his arms to his sides as he charged energy within both of his fists, the woman continuing to look down on him. “If you were well informed, you would’ve never thrown your life away.”

###

Michaelis dashed through the outskirts of Baile, chasing after the pompous man in a dazzling white toga. The man turned on his heels, stopping, as Michaelis continued his dash forward with his dagger tight in his hand.

“Do you want money? I can give you money!” The man bellowed, pushing his hands in front of himself, closing his eyes as Michaelis ignored his pleads for life.

“Alright, we’re doing this!” He shouted with worry, as an immense mound of liquid gold erupting from his palms, like a dam breaking it flowed towards Michaelis with intense size and force.

“Shit!” The mercenary bellowed, throwing his dagger to the right and grabbing the chain as the knife left his grasp. Appearing in a puff of purple particles, he panted softly before beginning to run around the attack, only to find the man he was opposing continuing his poor attempt at a dash.

The golden manipulator ran and ran, looking behind himself to spot Michaelis, only to turn forward again, to find the Godhunter falling down from above, faint purple smoke flowing behind him, Mick bringing the dagger down on the God from above.

The being threw his left palm up towards the dagger, gold flowing from his hand and wrapping around the blade, leaving it entrapped. Michaelis attempted to tug and tug at it but was unable to release the knife from the goops grasp. The God, aiming his right palm now directed towards the mercenary, who began panicking as he was unable to pull his blade from the gold.

“Sayonara!” The God announced, another flood of riches pouring from his hand, Michaelis leaping to the right, leaving his weapon behind as he grimaced, facing off against the God before him.

“God of Gold, you are craftier than you first seemed,” Michaelis remarked, stretching his palms out in front of himself, as liquid gold spilled from the deities hands. A thin layer of gold began to form, covering around half of the Baile marketplace as it spread from the origin point that was the God.

“But, I’ll still kill you.” Michaelis spat, blood dripping from his right palm after it had been slashed by his own blade.

“You still plan to kill me? You’ve been disarmed- and even managed to injure yourself. I’ve dealt with stronger assassins, so I see no reason to be threatened by a joke like you!” The God roared, relieved, as he gained a chilling composure.

A black aura surrounded Michaelis’s right fist, as he expanded his palm upwards, blood flowing from his wound, slowly taking form. The assassin reverse gripped his floating item, a short scimitar made of crystallized blood. He held the sword in front of himself, as the God raised himself on a pedestal of gold, Michaelis’s dagger ingrained in the throne.

“I hope Ilgar is getting along better than I…” The Godhunter muttered, beginning a sprint forward.

###

“I hope Mick is doing better than me…” Ilgar muttered to himself, throwing blast after blast of energy towards his opponent, who strafed each attack as she commenced closing the distance once again, the pair battling it out in front of the damaged mansion.

“Come on green man, at least try to hit me!” The woman taunted, cackling to herself.

“Sunflower!” Ilgar bellowed, enraged. He charged energy within his metal fist, a golden power erupting from his palm as he launched a powerful yellow blast directly towards Trathnona who stood in front of the estate’s obliterated entrance.

The woman’s eyes widened as she pulled her own arms to her sides, palms wide before thrusting her hands forward, a flood of liquid iron emerging, clashing with the powerful explosion.

As if consuming the light, the explosion was completely nullified by the river of metal, which slumped down as the orcs attack finished, before the woman hopped on top of her metallic construct which had hardened in seconds. Trathnona reached her hand into her mound of metal, turning to liquid around her palm as her hand emerged, enwrapped an elbow-length gauntlet. The knuckles were spiked, with similar decorations throughout the armament, the woman hopping down towards the ground, and approaching Ilgar slowly with a cheeky grin on her face.

Ilgar looked to his hands, before drawing the blade on his back with his metal fist. “Good luck,” Ilgar muttered to himself, gulping as he cut his left palm with the Mind Blade, blood dripping down his wrist and the edge of the sword. He sheathed his blade across his back once again, as a red energy flowed around his palm, clasping together his flesh and metal hands.

“Oho?” Excited, Trathnona halted, then began scraping the ground with her right foot like a bull ready to charge, her eyes twinkling slightly.

Ilgar separated his painted red palms, a pair of hand-axes made of crystal blood emerging in his grips. Ilgar crossing his forearms arms as he stared down at his opponent.

“Alright, green man!” The woman roared, the stone beneath her feet cracking, “Show me what you’re made of!” She bellowed, dashing towards the orc with her right fist raised in the air.

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