Chapter 126: Outmatched

Chapter 126: Chapter 126: Outmatched

POV Switch: Paul

They attacked together, their movements synchronized.

Cheeky charged first, her body surging forward. Her iron skin gleamed in the firelight, the metal reflecting. Her fists were raised, the hands clenched. Her expression was fierce, the features set. She was the tank, her role clear. She was the shield, her purpose defined. She was the one who would take the hits, her body the barrier.

Paul followed behind her, his steps quick. His wind swirled around him, the air moving. His hands were raised, the palms open. His eyes were sharp, the gaze focused. He was the range, his role clear. He was the support, his purpose defined. He was the one who would deal the damage, his power the weapon.

Lord Ashworth watched them, his eyes fixed. His flames burned brighter, the light intensifying. His eyes glowed redder, the color deepening. He was smiling, a cold, amused smile that twisted his features.

"Interesting," he said, his voice flat. "The elf tanks. The human attacks. A classic strategy."

Cheeky reached him, her form closing. She threw a punch, her fist flying. Her iron fist connected with his chest, the impact thunderous. The ground cracked beneath his feet, the stone splintering.

But Lord Ashworth didn’t move, his body still.

He just stood there, his form steady. His flames burned brighter, the light intensifying. His smile widened, the expression twisting.

"That tickled," he said, his voice flat.

Cheeky’s eyes widened, her pupils dilating. She pulled back, her arm retreating. She threw another punch, her fist flying. And another, the impact sharp. And another, the force immense. Each blow landed with the force of a battering ram, the impact thunderous. Each blow cracked the ground, the stone splintering. Each blow shook the air, the atmosphere trembling.

But Lord Ashworth didn’t move, his body still.

He just stood there, his form steady. His flames burned brighter, the light intensifying. His smile widened, the expression twisting.

"Are you done?" he asked, his voice flat.

Cheeky screamed, her voice piercing. She threw everything she had, her body surging. Her fists, the hands flying. Her feet, the legs kicking. Her iron skin, the metal hard. Her metal, the weapons forming.

Lord Ashworth took it all, his body steady. He didn’t block, his arms still. He didn’t dodge, his form unmoving. He didn’t even flinch, his expression unchanged.

"You’re strong," he said, his voice grudging. "For an elf. For a slave. For a piece of property."

Cheeky’s face twisted with rage, the features contorting. She punched him in the face, her fist connecting. His head snapped back, the neck cracking. He stumbled, his balance wavering. He caught himself, his form steadying.

He laughed, a cold, mocking sound.

"You have spirit," he said, his voice amused. "I like that. I’ll enjoy breaking it."

He raised his hand, his arm extending. Fire gathered, the flames swirling. A blade formed, the weapon solid. He slashed, his arm swinging. Cheeky raised her arms, her limbs extending. The blade hit her iron skin, the impact sharp. Sparks flew, the light bright. She flew backward, her body tumbling. She crashed into a wall, the stone crumbling.

Paul attacked, his body surging.

He threw a wind blade, his hand extending. It cut through the air, the projectile flying. It hit Lord Ashworth’s shoulder, the impact sharp. He winced, his expression tightening. He turned, his body spinning. He looked at Paul, his eyes cold.

"That hurt," he said, his voice flat. "A little."

He threw a fireball, his hand thrusting. Paul dodged, his body moving. He threw another, the projectile flying. Paul dodged, his form twisting. He threw another, the fireball surging. Paul dodged, his body shifting.

But Lord Ashworth was faster now, the speed increased. Stronger, the force greater. More relentless, the assault unceasing. His attacks were coming faster, the pace quickening. Harder, the impact heavier. More deadly, the threat greater.

Paul was struggling, his body failing. He was dodging, his form moving. He was blocking, his arms raising. He was countering, his hands striking. But he was losing ground, his position weakening. He was being pushed back, his body retreating.

Cheeky pushed herself up, her arms straining. She charged again, her body surging. She punched Lord Ashworth in the back, her fist connecting. He stumbled, his balance wavering. He turned, his body spinning. He grabbed her by the throat, his hand closing.

"You’re annoying," he said, his voice flat.

He squeezed, his grip tightening. Cheeky gasped, her breath catching. Her face went pale, the color draining. Her eyes bulged, the pupils dilating.

"Let her go!" Paul shouted, his voice desperate.

Lord Ashworth looked at him, his eyes meeting his. His smile widened, the expression twisting.

"Why should I?"

He threw Cheeky, his arm swinging. She flew across the plaza, her body tumbling. She crashed into a building, the stone crumbling. The building crumbled, the structure collapsing. She disappeared into the rubble, her form vanishing.

Paul screamed, his voice piercing. He charged, his body surging. He threw everything he had, his power releasing. His wind, the air cutting. His fists, the hands flying. His feet, the legs kicking. His rage, the fury burning.

Lord Ashworth took it all, his body steady. He didn’t block, his arms still. He didn’t dodge, his form unmoving. He didn’t even flinch, his expression unchanged.

"You’re weak," he said, his voice flat. "You’re pathetic. You’re nothing."

Paul kept attacking, his body surging. He kept punching, his fists flying. He kept kicking, his legs extending. He kept screaming, his voice piercing.

Lord Ashworth grabbed him by the wrist, his hand closing. He squeezed, his grip tightening. Paul’s bones cracked, the sound sharp. He screamed, his voice piercing. He pulled back, his arm retreating. He stumbled, his balance wavering.

"You’re nothing without your elf friend," Lord Ashworth said, his voice cold. "You’re nothing without your wind. You’re nothing without your talent."

Paul didn’t answer, his silence speaking. He just stood there, his form steady. His body was broken, the damage severe. His wind was flickering, the energy fading. He was exhausted, his strength depleted.

Lord Ashworth walked toward him, his steps slow. Slowly, the pace measured. Deliberately, each step placed with purpose. His flames burned brighter, the light intensifying. His eyes glowed redder, the color deepening.

"I’m going to kill you," he said, his voice low. "Slowly. Painfully. I’m going to make you suffer."

Paul still didn’t answer, his expression unchanged.

"I’m going to make you watch as I kill your elf friend. I’m going to make you listen as she screams. I’m going to make you beg for death."

Paul’s expression didn’t change, his features still. But his eyes were colder now, the gaze icy.

"You won’t touch her," he said, his voice low.

Lord Ashworth laughed, a cold, mocking sound. "Oh? And who’s going to stop me? You?"

"Yes."

"You can barely stand. You can barely breathe. You can barely fight."

"I can still fight."

"Then fight."

Paul charged, his body surging.

He threw a punch, his fist flying. Lord Ashworth caught it, his hand closing. He squeezed, his grip tightening. Paul’s bones cracked, the sound sharp. He screamed, his voice piercing. He pulled back, his arm retreating. He kicked, his leg extending. Lord Ashworth blocked, his arm raising. He countered, his fist flying. Paul flew backward, his body tumbling. He crashed into a wall, the stone crumbling.

Lord Ashworth walked toward him, his steps slow. His flames burned brighter, the light intensifying. His eyes glowed redder, the color deepening.

"Pathetic," he said, his voice flat. "Absolutely pathetic."

Then a metal spike hit him in the back, the impact sharp.

Lord Ashworth stumbled, his balance wavering. He turned, his body spinning. Cheeky was standing there, her form emerging. Her body was broken, the damage severe. Her iron skin was cracked, the metal splintering. Her eyes were fierce, the gaze burning.

"Stay away from him," she said, her voice firm.

Lord Ashworth stared at her, his eyes fixed. His face was twisted with rage, the features contorting. His back was bleeding, the wound deep.

"You," he spat, his voice venomous. "You’re still alive?"

Cheeky didn’t answer, her silence speaking.

"You should have stayed down. You should have given up. You should have died."

Cheeky still didn’t answer, her expression unchanged.

"Now you’ll die. Both of you. Together."

Cheeky smiled, a cold, dangerous smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

"Try," she said, her voice flat.

Lord Ashworth screamed, his voice piercing. He charged, his body surging.

Cheeky charged too, her body surging.

They clashed, their bodies colliding.

Cheeky was the tank, her role clear. She took the hits, her body the barrier. She blocked the flames, her arms the shield. She absorbed the damage, her form the sponge. Her iron skin was cracked, the metal splintering. Her body was broken, the damage severe. But she kept fighting, her will strong. She kept protecting, her purpose clear.

Paul was the range, his role clear. He attacked from a distance, his position safe. He threw wind blades, his hands extending. He threw wind spears, his arms swinging. He threw everything he had, his power releasing. His wind was flickering, the energy fading. His body was broken, the damage severe. But he kept fighting, his will strong. He kept attacking, his purpose clear.

Lord Ashworth was the monster, his role clear. He took their attacks, his body steady. He blocked their strikes, his arms raising. He absorbed their damage, his form the sponge. His flames burned brighter, the light intensifying. His eyes glowed redder, the color deepening. He kept fighting, his will strong. He kept attacking, his purpose clear. He kept winning, his victory certain.

They fought for minutes, the time passing slowly. Minutes that felt like hours, the duration stretching. Minutes that felt like days, the time endless.

Cheeky was slowing down, her body failing. Her iron skin was cracked, the metal splintering. Her body was broken, the damage severe. She was exhausted, her strength depleted.

Paul was slowing down, his body failing. His wind was flickering, the energy fading. His body was broken, the damage severe. He was exhausted, his strength depleted.

Lord Ashworth was not slowing down, his body steady. His flames burned brighter, the light intensifying. His eyes glowed redder, the color deepening. He was not exhausted, his strength endless.

"You’re weakening," he said, his voice flat. "Both of you. You’re weakening."

Cheeky didn’t answer, her silence speaking. She just stood there, her form steady. Her iron skin was cracked, the metal splintering. Her body was broken, the damage severe.

Paul didn’t answer, his silence speaking. He just stood there, his form steady. His wind was flickering, the energy fading. His body was broken, the damage severe.

"It’s over," Lord Ashworth said, his voice cold. "You’ve lost."

Cheeky smiled, a cold, dangerous smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

"Not yet," she said, her voice firm.

She charged, her body surging.

She threw a punch, her fist flying. Lord Ashworth caught it, his hand closing. He squeezed, his grip tightening. Her iron skin cracked, the metal splintering. She screamed, her voice piercing. He threw her, his arm swinging. She flew across the plaza, her body tumbling. She crashed into a building, the stone crumbling.

Lord Ashworth turned to Paul, his body spinning. His flames burned brighter, the light intensifying. His eyes glowed redder, the color deepening.

"Now," he said, his voice low. "Where were we?"

Paul didn’t answer, his silence speaking. He just stood there, his form steady. His wind was flickering, the energy fading. His body was broken, the damage severe.

Lord Ashworth walked toward him, his steps slow. Slowly, the pace measured. Deliberately, each step placed with purpose. His flames burned brighter, the light intensifying. His eyes glowed redder, the color deepening.

"I’m going to kill you," he said, his voice low. "Slowly. Painfully. I’m going to make you suffer."

Paul still didn’t answer, his expression unchanged.

"I’m going to make you watch as I kill your elf friend. I’m going to make you listen as she screams. I’m going to make you beg for death."

Paul’s expression didn’t change, his features still. But his eyes were colder now, the gaze icy.

"You won’t touch her," he said, his voice low.

Lord Ashworth laughed, a cold, mocking sound. "Oh? And who’s going to stop me? You?"

"Yes."

"You can barely stand. You can barely breathe. You can barely fight."

"I can still fight."

"Then fight."

Paul charged, his body surging.

He threw a punch, his fist flying. Lord Ashworth caught it, his hand closing. He squeezed, his grip tightening. Paul’s bones cracked, the sound sharp. He screamed, his voice piercing. He pulled back, his arm retreating. He kicked, his leg extending. Lord Ashworth blocked, his arm raising. He countered, his fist flying. Paul flew backward, his body tumbling. He crashed into a wall, the stone crumbling.

Lord Ashworth walked toward him, his steps slow. His flames burned brighter, the light intensifying. His eyes glowed redder, the color deepening.

"Pathetic," he said, his voice flat. "Absolutely pathetic."

Then a metal spear hit him in the shoulder, the impact sharp.

Lord Ashworth stumbled, his balance wavering. He turned, his body spinning. Cheeky was standing there, her form emerging. Her body was broken, the damage severe. Her iron skin was cracked, the metal splintering. Her eyes were fierce, the gaze burning.

"Stay away from him," she said again, her voice firm.

Lord Ashworth stared at her, his eyes fixed. His face was twisted with rage, the features contorting. His shoulder was bleeding, the wound deep.

"You," he spat, his voice venomous. "You’re still alive?"

Cheeky didn’t answer, her silence speaking.

"You should have stayed down. You should have given up. You should have died."

Cheeky still didn’t answer, her expression unchanged.

"Now you’ll die. Both of you. Together."

Cheeky smiled, a cold, dangerous smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

"Try," she said, her voice flat.

Lord Ashworth screamed, his voice piercing. He charged, his body surging.

He grabbed Cheeky by the throat, his hand closing. He lifted her off the ground, her feet dangling. Her face went pale, the color draining. Her eyes bulged, the pupils dilating.

"You’re annoying," he said, his voice flat. "You’re persistent. You’re stubborn."

Cheeky gasped, her breath catching. She clawed at his hand, her fingers scratching. She kicked, her legs flailing. She struggled, her body twisting. But she couldn’t break free, his grip too strong.

"I’m going to enjoy this," Lord Ashworth said, his voice low.

His flames burned brighter, the light intensifying. His eyes glowed redder, the color deepening.

"Now," he said, his voice cold. "You shall burn."