Ragnarök, Eternal Tragedy.
Chapter 49: Limited by man

Chapter 49: Limited by man

Erling’s newly enhanced armor glimmers faintly, its design streamlined for speed and precision. His figure resembles a moving fortress, agile rather than bulky. Tobias, revolver in hand, observes him intently, his mind rapidly strategizing.

Erling moves in a blur, charging forward. Tobias barely has time to react as Erling’s stone-encrusted fist slices through the air like a blade. The cowboy sidesteps, but the sheer force of the swing generates a gust of wind that almost destabilizes him. Steadying himself, Tobias quickly fires two shots aimed at Erling’s knees.

The first bullet strikes, but the armor is thickened, only cracking slightly. The second bullet ricochets upward, clipping Erling’s shoulder and causing a small explosion. Erling grunts, momentarily stepping back, though far from defeated.

"Impressive shooting, Tobias," Erling growls in a menacing tone. "But let’s see how you fare against someone who won’t let you catch your breath."

Erling leaps forward, closing the distance in an instant and bringing down both fists like sledgehammers. Tobias rolls aside to avoid the blow, as the ground where he stood shatters into rubble. Unrelenting, Erling swings again, forcing Tobias into a retreat.

Dodging with precision, Tobias fires another bullet mid-motion. This one hums with electric energy, glowing as it impacts Erling’s chest. The resulting explosion forces Erling to shield himself, revealing cracks splintering across his armor.

"That’s the thing about stone types," Tobias remarks, reloading skillfully. "You’re tough, but not invincible. You just need the right bullet."

Erling smirks, undeterred. "Perhaps. But all I need is one solid hit to finish this. Let’s see who breaks first."

The ground trembles as Erling summons a towering stone pillar and propels himself upward. From his elevated position, he launches razor-sharp rock fragments at Tobias with the force of falling meteors. Tobias maneuvers through the storm, using the terrain for cover.

Amid the chaos, Tobias takes aim, his revolver clicking as he targets Erling’s chest. The bullet arcs gracefully around the debris, striking Erling squarely and detonating in a brilliant flash. Erling plummets from his perch, impacting the ground with enough force to shake the battlefield.

Amid the dust and debris, Erling rises to his knees, his armor visibly compromised, sections missing entirely. Tobias advances cautiously, revolver at the ready for any sudden move.

Erling, undeterred, slams his fists into the ground, unleashing a shockwave of jagged stone spikes that radiate outward. Tobias leaps back, narrowly avoiding them, but the movement disrupts his balance. Seizing the moment, Erling closes the gap.

With a powerful swing, Erling’s stone-covered fist strikes Tobias’s side, sending him tumbling. Tobias crashes to the ground, rolling to lessen the impact. Clutching his ribs, he struggles to stand, his trademark smirk now tinged with pain.

"Alright, big guy," Tobias mutters, spinning his revolver one last time. "Let’s end this."

...

’Thing are getting worse out there, we have to get far from here as soon as possible.’

’Is Erling going to be, okay?’

’I don’t know, this might be the toughest fight I’ve seen him fight. So, we can’t take any risk of staying around to find out’

They run for through the back, they jump over the wooden fence and head towards the castle. On their way there they meet some village guards who are headed to where the fight was. Freyr stops them while trying to catch her breath.

’Is everything okay? I heard there’s an attack at your house.’

’Yes, Prince Erling is trying to fend him off, but I think you guys should go and help him.’

The guards head towards the fight.

...

The guards, spurred into action by Freyr’s alarm, rush toward the source of the turmoil. Dust clouds rise thick in the air, signaling the intensity of the battle ahead. Their disciplined march stands in stark contrast to the chaotic scene that greets them when they arrive. The earth is fractured, riddled with deep cracks and scattered debris. Smoke rises from craters in the ground, carrying the sharp tang of burnt stone. At the heart of it all looms Erling’s towering figure, his armor shimmering under the blazing sunlight like molten rock come to life. His every movement exudes power and precision as he clashes ferociously with Tobias Creed.

Tobias’s gaze shifts to the advancing reinforcements. Their polished armor gleams in unison, reflecting the sunlight as they shout commands to encircle him. He mutters under his breath, his trademark wry grin creeping across his face, though his eyes remain sharp and calculating.

"Well, reckon this ain’t my day," he says, almost to himself.

Without missing a beat, Tobias holsters his revolver in one smooth motion and pivots on his heel, breaking into a full sprint. Behind him, Erling growls in frustration, his voice echoing like thunder. With a mighty slam of his fists into the ground, tremors ripple outward, shaking the already unsteady terrain. The guards pause briefly, torn between chasing Tobias or supporting Erling in his relentless battle.

Tobias’s boots pound against the cracked dirt as he darts away, his hat tilted low to shield his face from the blinding sun. His breathing is measured, his pace unyielding. Every step propels him further from the danger, but he knows the reprieve is temporary. Glancing over his shoulder, he spots the guards—now mobilized—closing in. Though their armor slows them down, their sheer numbers and determined strides make them an undeniable threat.

The terrain grows rugged as Tobias veers toward the outskirts of Scyl Village. He navigates the uneven ground with practiced ease, his sharp eyes scanning for potential escape routes. Then, movement ahead catches his attention. Three figures dart across a winding path, their hurried strides betraying the urgency of their flight. Tobias squints, his vision sharpening as recognition dawns—one of them is Amari. The young man’s silhouette, though distant, is unmistakable. Flanking him are Freyr and Apollo, their faces taut with tension as they sprint further from the chaos.

Tobias lets out a low whistle, his smirk deepening. "Well now, ain’t this somethin’. Looks like I hit the jackpot."

Slowing his pace just slightly, Tobias adjusts his hat, careful to remain undetected. He keeps his distance, his movements calculated and quiet. His eyes follow the trio as they wind their way along the narrow path, clearly aiming to put as much ground as possible between themselves and the unfolding battle. Tobias observes them like a predator sizing up its prey, biding his time.

Behind him, the faint clinking of armor grows louder. The guards’ voices rise as they call out orders to sweep the area. Tobias risks a quick glance over his shoulder, noting their increasingly frantic search. Ducking low, he moves into the cover of dense bushes, blending into the dappled shadows. His heartbeat remains steady, though a spark of adrenaline courses through him.

The trio ahead takes a sharp turn, momentarily vanishing from Tobias’s line of sight. He quickens his pace, his steps light and deliberate, his muscles coiled like a spring. He emerges from the brush just in time to catch sight of them again, weaving through the uneven paths with determination.

"This kid’s got some spirit," Tobias mutters under his breath, his fingers brushing against the handle of his revolver, now securely holstered at his side. "But I ain’t lettin’ him slip away that easy."

Freyr’s voice floats faintly in the air as Tobias edges closer, staying out of sight. She’s urging the group onward, her words hurried and laced with worry. Amari glances back briefly, his face pale but resolute, as if sensing the weight of what’s at stake. Apollo follows close behind, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade, prepared for any threat that might come their way.

Tobias continues his pursuit, matching their pace while remaining unseen. His smirk softens slightly as he observes them, a mix of amusement and intrigue flickering in his eyes. He notes the way Amari moves—clumsy yet determined—as though driven by a force greater than himself.

Behind Tobias, the guards are gaining ground, their shouts growing clearer. One of them barks out an order.

"Spread out! He couldn’t have gone far!"

The cowboy curses softly under his breath, his momentary distraction almost costing him his cover. He slips further into the shadows, adjusting his path to stay ahead of both the guards and his unwitting targets.

"This just keeps gettin’ better," Tobias mutters, shaking his head with a hint of exasperation. Still, the sly grin never fully leaves his face.

As Amari, Freyr, and Apollo disappear around another bend, Tobias tightens his grip on his revolver. The stakes have shifted, and though the odds remain stacked against him, he knows one thing for sure—he’s not walking away empty-handed.