A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor
Chapter 1762 - 1762: Clashing Storms - Part 4

His might was effortless, but Oliver could not emulate that. His sword chased after it in the air. He fought his mental image of his Master, and he found himself ever coming up short. He scratched his head continually in his pausing, his frustration boiling over like an overheated pot. He didn't know what to grasp for, what to do. He'd enjoyed playing the Sword up until that point more than anything else. It was that which he knew best. To have a single opponent in front of him, and to confront them continually, and recklessly. To feel the world around them shift, in accordance with their battle, and to have their mighty flow built up, as he acquired his steps of advantage.

He'd been forced to leave that behind, ever so gradually, with the more men that he commanded. He didn't have the opportunity to duel mighty foes for any continued length of time. The rest of the battlefield was likely to collapse if he did. But now with the favour of Minister Hod, he was being allowed exactly that. His only purpose was this duel. He had to keep this mighty man that was King Germanicus in check.

He ought to have been imagining the King in his head as he fought his invisible foes, but he couldn't conjure up a mental image of him. He didn't feel like a man, or even a monster. He was something stranger, like a cloud of thunder. It was far easier to attempt to match Dominus Patrick, before he had ascended to the Sixth Boundary. For Oliver bore a strange confidence that Dominus could have defeated Germanicus, even though to Germanicus there was attributed a level of might that the kingdom shuddered at.

"…They didn't know him like I did," Oliver told himself defensively. "He wounded the Pandora Goblin, after all. He ought to have been weakened from the poison, and he was… But that weakness made him look for other things, didn't it? He was still a man of the Fifth Boundary in the end."

It was that very thought that he carried into the beginnings of battle with Germanicus.

As soon as the day started, and Hod positioned his troops according to their new strategy, with Blackthorn on the north wall and Oliver on the south wall, Tavar could tell what his intentions were. Yet the man had allowed it, and sent Germanicus towards where Hod had intended for him to be sent.

It was something that Germanicus himself had pursued with a keenness, for he'd heard much talk of Oliver Patrick, but he had yet to cross swords with him himself yet. He was already convinced that the likes of General Blackthorn, he could already put down sooner or later.

With warhammer in hand, the two found each other.

"Ah, you bring allies with you," Germanicus had said, noting the Minister of Blades and Gar by Oliver's side.

Oliver's response had been a swift charge. Still, in his head, he was having the internal argument as to whether Dominus truly was stronger than the likes of Germanicus. He'd all but forgotten that which Hod had asked him to do, and he only sought to settle that debate for himself.

With Dominus' sword in hand, he attempted to cleave open Germanicus' stomach, through the chainmail vest that he wore.

"Ha!" King Germanicus laughed, seeing the ferocity in Oliver's eyes. He blocked the blow easily with the shaft of his warhammer, managing to wield the weapon with the deceptive speed that a man of his size ought not have.

Oliver felt the rebound, and the only thought in his head was that of calculation. He compared it to that of Dominus, and how his master might have deflected the strike. He decided that King Germanicus came up short, and in his excitement, he dove in again, using the momentum from his own rebound to spring back around, and slash down at King Germanicus' bare legs.

For a King, he certainly fought with a very light degree of armour. His arms were bare, as were his legs. It was just that same skirt of long chainmail that drifted down to protect his upper thighs. There was a question to be asked as to whether such a thing was done for practical purposes, or merely to reveal the swirling blue war paint that King Germanicus covered his body in.

Again, King Germanicus blocked, more swiftly this time. He turned the block into a counterattack, and drove his shoulder into Oliver's chest.

Oliver felt the wind being knocked out of him. That was something that Dominus had taken to doing all that time ago as well. He was so many steps ahead, that rarely did he just block a strike. He would always turn it around on Oliver, in a counterattack, to point out the weaknesses Oliver had let show so that he might attack more swiftly.

"Dominus would have put his sword to my neck for that," Oliver muttered to himself under his breath, feeling nothing but a slight bruising to his ribs. "He's lacking, I declare it."

The Minister of Blades rushed in from the left, given the opening, and Gar rushed in from the right. They'd allowed Oliver the opening moments of battle, but neither had forgotten the position that they were put in for. And, if they were being honest, just like Oliver, they delighted in the opportunity to cross swords with a mighty man.

King Germanicus pushed them both back at once. A single wide sweep of his hammer, and they were both made to jump out of the way, lest they be crushed. Then, with the time he'd gained, King Germanicus stepped in closer to the Minister of Blades, and drove a fist into the plating of his stomach, denting the metal. Gar rushed in, as did Oliver, to take advantage of the King's misplaced attention, but he was already turning around to face them long before they could make anything of the opportunity.

He laughed at them, as he pushed them back once more, warning them away with his hammer. "Is this it?" He said. "Great warriors – mighty foes. You be the Minister of Blades. You be Oliver Patrick. And you be no one. And none of the three can match me. Is this the strategy of your great Minister of Logic?"