The Lone Wanderer

The spears pierced through the tree like it was made of cotton, barely giving Percy a chance to dodge.

But his trouble had just begun, as more Yellow mana gathered under his feet. Tilting his body at the last second, he narrowly escaped impalement, though not without a gnarly gash on his upper thigh.

If this had been higher up on the Spire, his opponent wouldn’t be able to manifest his earth constructs through the surface of the giant fungi. Sadly for Percy, the ground on the first floor was made of dirt and rock.

At least, Mana Sense gave him the chance to react a fraction of a second early, but even with Circulation, keeping up with a Yellow core was a tall order.

“What the fuck gave you the confidence to attack me?! And what’s up with the weird mana flow around your abdomen?!” the man asked without pausing.

Percy was too preoccupied trying to survive the barrage of javelins to reply. Another two landed next to his feet, almost pinning him in place. Luckily, he’d managed to step out of their path just in time.

‘I can’t keep this up forever.’

Squarely at a disadvantage, he tried dodging backwards whenever possible in a desperate attempt to put some distance between them. It would give him more time to react, not to mention giving his familiar an opening to escape. However, even the physical capabilities of his opponent eclipsed his own, letting him casually keep up with him while continuing his relentless onslaught.

‘Shit. Micky can’t help. The quarterstaff will snap like a twig. The glove might as well be made of paper. I can’t close the distance for a physical blow either…’