Rise of the Godking

Deep inside that the city, the orb of light throbbed, and Daneel felt it course towards him, ready to smash away any opposition that might dare to go up against him.

Like a coiled whip, the Will's incredible ability to practically freeze anyone into submission called to him, sang to him until he was tempted to let it loose, and let the carnage ensure. Yet, he wasn't unaware of the fact that it was a secret that had to be kept against anyone who might keep their lives after being affected by it, and right now, he did not know for sure whether he would be able to successfully end all three of those who had come to his land, and tried to kill him.

He hadn't even brought along any weapons, but he wasn't worried about himself, at all. The strength of a Neophyte was probably nothing when compared to that of those he was up against, but he had something else up his sleeve that could counter even those with twice as much might.

"System, activate direct combat aid. Objective: evade attacks, obtain weapon, kill."

[Objectives received. Activating combat aid. Taking control.]

In battle, unless one was an absolute master, there were always tiny signs that could be read that indicated where one was going to move, or what one was going to do. Even if they were a master, their eyes belied things that might seem so minuscule that no one human should be able to decipher them, but with the system, all of these tiny details could be studied and interpreted to great effect.

If he had the reflexes and the body of someone much more powerful, he could have replicated this feat, too, as he had done many times before on Angaria. Right now, though, he had no choice but to rely on the system, and of course, as it always had done, it delivered.

The two armored men had moved forward to protect the middle-aged man between them, who seemed to have run out of needles. His face was filled with frustration and his hands were grasping at the air wildly as if he wished that he could close them around the necks of all those in front of him, but he still stayed where he was, exposing the fact that he was not suited for direct combat.

His guards seemed more than capable, though. They did not possess incredible speed, but their movements had a surety to them that hinted at their experience. Besides, with all that armor, it might even have been impossible to be as fast as those underlings of the master, and in a way, this was what sealed their fate.

Both of their swords rose in the air, points first, and as Daneel neared them, the one on the right slashed down diagonally while the other chose to use an upward thrust. If he tried to dodge one, the other would surely hit him, but at the exact moment when it seemed that he would be cut into ribbons by those gleaming, curved blades, his legs slipped and he dropped to the floor on his knees, skidding beneath both the attacks.

He came to a stop precisely a step behind the two. Ignoring the third man, Daneel watched as the system made his body rise up, then leap forward to the man on the right, who had just begun to whirl around.

Extending his leg, he sent a kick to the man's shin, targeting the exact moment when he put his weight on it. The man had no choice but to shift his bulk to the other foot, and before he could stabilize himself, Daneel's hand went into the damp mud below it and pulled.

The man collapsed, armor clinking without rhythm as it fell to the ground, but Daneel had to jump back as his partner had sent a thrust straight at his neck while he had been absorbed in dealing with the other one.

As he turned to him once more, he saw the eyes within that dog's head helmet open wide as it must have seemed as if he had eyes on the back of his head.

'Leave him to me.'

With a wolfish grin, Daneel gave the system this command and calmly walked forward. The armored man regained his composure in a moment. Lifting his sword high again, he waited for Daneel to come close enough so that he could send forth his attack. On the way, Daneel stopped, though, and actually began to walk back, beckoning at him to come forward if he dared. With a glance at his partner who was still trying to struggle to his feet on the ground that was muddy due to the constant spray of the sea that kept it wet, he bit out a growl and ran forward, the sword holding steady in the air as it waited to be sent down, down through his flesh, down through his bones.

Yet, the moment he reached the spot near where Daneel had first stood before the attack, he stared once more as his opponent actually changed direction, ran to the sword and moved away just a moment before it could slice through his skin. The wind of the blade descending even lifted his hair, but he seemed unperturbed. A punch flew at the man, but he merely sneered, knowing that he would be unscathed within the armor. However, an instant later, he bit his tongue in shock as the punch precisely shifted his center of gravity so that he had to step back or fall to the ground, and in his mind, the thought that he was extremely out of his depth flashed.

Daneel laughed as he read all of this in the eyes of his opponent. The thrill of battle coursed through him, making his blood barrel through his body and his heart beat almost out of his chest. He danced with the man, the sword a desperate lover that wanted to kiss him, but would always be kept at bay. He didn't even need to look at it to follow its path; he always knew where it was going to land, so he could always shift his body so that it would pass within an inch of his waist, his hand, and even his head.

All the while, he kept sending punches to unbalance the man. When the man slashed down, a punch would go for his exposed underarm that made him stumble to the left. When the sword came up, Daneel would jump away from it and shoot a punch at his waist that caused him to curse and stumble forward. When the sword was sent forth in a thrust, Daneel would bend his waist so that it whistled so close to him that it cut a hole through his shirt, but his fists struck the chest of the man who stepped back and finally… fell.

Behind him, his partner had finally managed to get up. Daneel taunted him, too, with a sneer, but before he could take a step forward, he was stopped by the middle-aged man.

With a shaking hand, the superior pointed at the guard at Daneel's feet. With a gasp, the other guard saw that the man's armor was smoking…and then, he remembered the needle that had struck the ground there and had been forgotten by almost everyone.

A cloud instantly came into existence behind them. The man in beggar's rags had to pull his guard, but eventually, he relented, and together, they floated away, faces fraught with frustration and anger.

With a condescending smile, Daneel waited until they were out of sight. It was only then that he turned to the guard they had left behind, and shook his head when he saw that the man had turned into a puddle, too, albeit a slightly silver one.

Beside him, Reese stepped forward and exclaimed, "Damn them! Well, at least they left behind—"

The sound of someone choking made both of them turn around. Daneel almost began to run forward in a desperate attempt to stop what he was seeing… but he stopped himself when he saw that he was already too late. The face of the outsider had begun to melt, too, and in barely a few seconds, all that was left of him was a third disgusting, sticky puddle.

"He had that all along. Maybe he was hoping that he would be saved…but his master left him behind. Why, though? We just wanted to buy some stuff! Why did they want to kill us?"

The same questions were going through Daneel's mind, and because he had no answer, he grimaced and said, "We just have to find out."